Young inhaled the salty sea air contently. There was just something about the sea that he loved, even if he could not stand the sound of seagulls. The sun setting over the bay was doubling his contentment.

                Young's relaxed attitude and his fixation on the orange and red reflection of the massive ball of plasma dropping below the horizon is likely why he did not hear a man beam into the living room of his large, over extravagant Pacifica, California home.

                It was not till Young noticed the shadowy reflection in the glass barrier surrounding his balcony that he noticed the intruder.

                Young had, however, become accustomed to his friend's covert entrances, and while slightly startled and annoyed, he had broken his habit of diving for the 'summon help' button every time the elder Vulcan appeared.

                “You need to learn to knock,” Young smirked at Salek, pointing to a glass of green liquid Young had already prepared for him.

                Salek casually walked over to the beach chair that sat across from Young and sat down. The drink that was offered to him was something new. Salek, not a drinker at all, was unsure if he wanted to tempt the fates by trying it.

                “It's just tea,” Young said reassuringly, knowing Salek's dislike of alcohol. “From one of the Trill planets. It's actually quite good.”

                Salek did not seem very convinced, but he tried it anyway. Taking a quick sip, he nodded, making sure not to show any sign of his enjoyment of the drink.

                “You're right. And I did knock. It's not my concern if you're too busy staring off into the water to hear me,” Salek finally replied to Young's earlier complaint.

                Salek smiled. “Would you rather meet in my office?”

                Salek shook his head. They both knew a Vulcan in a Federation building would not be welcome, especially one that worked for the Vulcan government. Once Vulcan had seceded, all Vulcan diplomats were expelled, and Vulcan government officials had their immunity revoked.

                Vulcan Starfleet officers were questioned intently on where their loyalty lied and if there was any question, they were at best, removed from duty. At worst, they were arrested.

                Vulcans who lived on Earth began fleeing enmasse, in fear of anti-Vulcan backlash. The ones who remained were subject to the same type of loyalty tests as the Starfleet officers were.

                To anyone who was a student of history, it all seemed awfully familiar.

                “So,” Salek continued, taking another sip of his Trillian tea, “do you have any good news for me?”

                Young laughed as he picked up a couple of PADDs from next to his beach chair. His laugh drew the famous raised eyebrow from Salek, but Salek did not question him, instead allowing Young to explain himself first.

                Young plopped his feet up onto the railing of the balcony as he read off the reports, almost like a sports reporter reading off football scores.

                “Near Starbase 21. Two Vulcan science vessels refuse to obey an order from the U.S.S. Cheyenne. They are destroyed.”

                Young sips his drink and continues.

                “The U.S.S. Magellan attempts to enforce a blockade, is popped by a half-a-dozen Vulcan ships. The U.S.S. Vancouver and the U.S.S. Oklahoma are heavily damaged in a skirmish with Vulcan task force along the Neutral Zone of all places!”

                Young chuckled and looked to Salek. “What were you guys doing there?”

                Salek shrugged. “They were probably trying to avoid your ships. Technically, the treaty to stay out of the Neutral Zone applies to the Federation.”

                Young nodded. “Good point.” He returned to the PADDs. “It just goes on and on. Skirmish after skirmish. Doesn't look like any more ships destroyed in the last week, just pew-pew run away on both sides.”

                Salek continued to sip as he pondered what Young had just told him. “It seems that both your side and my side are testing each other.”

                Young grabbed a new PADD and slid around in his chair, so that he faced Salek.

                “With good cause too. Here, check this out. The operational briefing just came down today.”

                Young tossed Salek the PADD. Salek began to read over it, mainly just glancing through the normal Federation gibberish about ship strength and policies. Finally, he got to the meat of the document.

                “They can't be serious.”

                Young nodded. “Don't be angry with me, but I voted in favor of the action.”

                Salek almost laughed but stifled himself. He continued to read the PADD in detail as he spoke.

                “This is not a 'reclamation' as your operational planners seem to want to call it but is an annexation.”

                Young shrugged. “At this point do you really think they care? Obviously, Starfleet isn't in position to take back Vulcan. But they think they can send a message by capturing the Vulcan colonies and bringing them under Federation control.”

                “What did the president say about this?”

                Young smirked. “She wasn't involved. In fact, this all falls under 77280G since, at least according to Federation law, technically all Vulcan space is 'Federation space'. So, as far as the Council was concerned, it didn't qualify as an annexation.”

                Salek stared at Young for about a minute, took another sip of his tea, and then finally said what he thought. “That's far too devious for the Federation to think of. Was this your idea?”

                Young, who was drunk from before Salek's arrival, nearly fell out of his chair he was laughing so hard. Salek just shook his head and turned his attention to the sea until Young regained his balance and composure.

                “I appreciate your confidence in me, Salek,” Young chuckled. “However, some of the other council people can be pretty devious too, given the opportunity.”

                “Apparently,” Salek said, not taking his eyes off the water.

                Young returned to his relaxed state with his feet on the railing, casually sipping his drink. Salek also continued to nurse his while watching the occasional boat pass by. The pair sat in silence for a while before Salek spoke again.

                “It's been eleven weeks. What of Saotome?”

                Young snarled at hearing that bastard's name. Fortunately, though, he had, at least what he felt, was good news about him.

                “I've checked DS9's logs every day. They've had no ships come from the direction they warped off to.”

                “Is Larson and Saotome's father still missing?”

                Young nodded.

                “And you're certain Larson was in Section 31?”

                “I'm all but certain.”

                Salek sighed. Young turned to him to try and reassure him.

                “They couldn't have walked back. Every starship but six have been accounted for and are in or near Federation space. The six that aren't are on deep space assignments.”

                Salek shook his head. “You can't account for ships that don't exist.”

                Young, not wanting to think about Ranma ruining their plans, continued to try and convince Salek.

                “You know as well as I do that you cannot tow a ship back cloaked. As well, you also know that the modifications made at Chii made it impossible for a cloak to be installed on the Sisko.”

                Salek did know that. He also knew there was no guarantee that they were bringing the Sisko back. He also knew though that humans were emotional and developed emotional attachments to inanimate objects, such as starships.

                However, he was growing weary of arguing and decided to let it go for now.

                “I have to return to Vulcan. Saanik's trial is finally beginning.”

                Young smiled. “Took long enough. I thought you people were the epitome of efficiency?”

                Salek stood and finished off his tea. “Yes, but we're also the epitome of procedure and technicalities. The fact that it has only taken this long just goes to show you how efficient we are.”

                Young knew at that moment exactly why he loved Salek as much as he did. “Have a safe trip.”

                Salek nodded, did the Vulcan hand gesture, and activated his transport enhancer, beaming him to his personal, disguised ship in orbit.

-----

                Vulcan, in general hadn't changed much since the declaration of their independence from the Federation. The most noteworthy difference was the totally lack of any Starfleet or Federation presence on the planet.

                Despite a lot of huffing and puffing from both the Federation Council and Starfleet Command, and the repeated assertion that Vulcan was still in the Federation, both evacuated their assets from the planet quickly after the secession.

                That said, the departing forces certainly did leave their mark when they left. Asides from being noisy as possible, something that was frowned upon on Vulcan, the Starfleet defense forces also left their bases fully intact. A sign that the Vulcans took as the Federation's intention to eventually return to Vulcan.

                One of their bases was not intact though. Far from it. That was why former Defense Minister Saanik was in the position he was in. And while the Vulcan military prison that he sat in was not miserable, it was far from the serene setting that he had turned his home into.

                Saanik had spent the previous three months with his attorney filing motion after motion to get him released on procedural grounds. Finally, the word had come down from the Chief Adjudicator.

                He had lost his last motion and his trial was to begin today.

                Under normal circumstances he would have faith that the fair, impartial and logical Vulcan judicial system would find him innocent, but there was nothing in his mind or body that was telling him that today was going to end well for him.

                Saanik sighed and looked at the breakfast the guards had brought for him. He had little appetite right now but realized there would be no logic in sitting in court all day hungry. The Vulcan officer slowly ate the rice and vegetable concoction, pausing occasionally to again ponder what he had been thinking about since his arrest.

                *Why me?* was the question that bounced around in his head.

                Saanik could not understand at all why someone would go through the effort of framing him for such a heinous crime. Why do the crime at all? None of it made sense to him. Of course, he was trying to think of things logically. He realized, though, that this might be his greatest flaw in determining who was behind this.

                As Saanik finished his breakfast, three guards walked up, along with Saanik's attorney, T'Pah. T'Pah was a young woman, very attractive, at least by Vulcan standards, and about half Saanik's age. She had worked for the Ministry of Defense at one point and the pair had become – close. How close was anyone's guess, as it was not like a Vulcan to kiss and tell. Especially one who might be disciplined for being involved with an officer in his charge.

                “Minister,” T'Pah smiled, using Saanik's previous title, despite it having been stripped from him upon his arrest. The guards took no notice of this and deactivated the force field that secured Saanik.

                “Is it time?” the elder Vulcan asked, standing.

                T'Pah nodded, handing Saanik some formal clothes. “I'll wait here.”

                Saanik took the clothes and returned the nod, following the guards to a changing area. Saanik was quite pleased to get out of the prison uniform, as it made him feel like he was criminal.

                Of course, that was the point, he acknowledged.

                After a short bit, Saanik and the guards returned. T'Pah again smiled but said nothing. Saanik walked next to her with the guards shadowing them towards the transporter room.

                “Are you nervous?” T'Pah finally asked.

                Saanik allowed himself to smirk. “I am facing execution for a crime I did not commit. I would be lying if I said I was not.” Saanik turned his head slightly as the group walked to look towards T'Pah. “However, I am represented by the best legal counsel on the planet, and I am innocent. Logic would dictate that I will be freed by the end of the day.”

                T'Pah moved a bit closer to Saanik. “I know you will be.”

                The quintet seemingly stepped in unison till they reached the prison's transporter, where they then beamed to the Vulcan Military Tribunal Center. Once inside, Saanik and T'Pah were escorted into courtroom C.

                The courtroom was a large, intimidating room with a high ceiling. Like everything else on the planet, it was mainly lined with red decor and a skylight that allowed even more red into the room. Towards the front of the room sat two metal tables, one for the prosecutors and one for the defendant. In front of that there was the advocates, or judges panel; raised higher to add to the overall intimidating and in your face stern justice system theme the Vulcans had, where the five Vulcan judges would sit.

                Behind the tables was a small spectator gallery. Saanik's trial was not open to the public, but authorized interested parties could attend. There was not an empty seat in the room. Anyone and everyone who could get into it, did.

                Some people he knew, Saanik acknowledged as the guards walked him and T'Pah to the defense table. They were members of the military, the Interior Ministry, members of the press. Saanik noted that the new head of the High Command, Sala, was in attendance. He also saw people that he would rather not. Mainly Salek.

                Saanik passed a piercing glare at the commander of the rouge battalion who was seated directly behind the prosecution table, however the commander either didn't see it, or chose to ignore it.

                Saanik took one last look around. A few others he didn't know. No Starfleet though. While that wasn't entirely surprising, it did seem a little strange, considering it was Starfleet that he was supposedly guilty of attacking.

                After a few moments, and right on time, the judges began to walk out of their chamber. The room stood and paid their respects before returning to their seats. The lead judge, an older man, probably in his 150's with gray hair, who sat in the highest, center seat, nodded to the crowd, looked to both the prosecutor and Saanik, and began to speak.

                “This trial is called to order,” he stated, banging his Vulcanish gavel. “Defendant, please rise.”

                Saanik and T'Pah both stood. “Former Defense Minister Saanik, son of T'Jan and Saran, you stand accused of dereliction of duty, issuing an unlawful order, unauthorized use of military hardware and 97,271 counts of first-degree murder. How do you plead?”

                Saanik blinked. It was the first time he had heard the charges read out loud to him. It shook him.

                “Not guilty,” he finally responded.

                “Very well,” the judge replied, picking up a PADD. “The court has decided that the recent political events between the Federation and Vulcan shall have no bearing on this case.”

                “Noted,” the prosecutor stated, standing.

                T'Pah just nodded, acknowledging that it would not make any difference in her defense anyway.

                “Prosecutor, you may begin,” the judge instructed.

                The prosecutor walked over to the witness stand. “As my first witness I would like to call Sub Commander Sanna.”

                The man Saanik glared at earlier, the one in charge of the rouge division, stood and walked to the witness stand. After being sworn in by the court officials and giving a brief history of his service record, the prosecutor got down to business.

                “Sub Commander, how did you know the order came from the Ministry of Defense?”

                “My garrison received a communication over the encrypted channel.” Sanna explained very matter-of-factly. In fact, you would almost think he was hosting a how-to video, not testifying in court. “The communication had all the proper authentication protocols and was verified with the action key set.”

                “What's an action key set?” the prosecutor asked.

                “It's a coded password that no one knows till it's opened,” Sanna answered. “If my password doesn't match the password I am sent, then the order is likely not authentic.”

                The prosecutor turned and looked towards Saanik. “So, there is no way the order could have been fabricated?”

                “No.”

                The prosecutor began to walk back to his table. “I have nothing further.”

                The judge looked to T'Pah. “Counsel?”

                T'Pah nodded and walked to Sanna. “Sub Commander, do you not think it was questionable that you would receive an order to attack a Federation base?”

                “It's not logical to question authentic orders,” Sanna replied.

                “That's not what I asked you,” T'Pah responded, slightly annoyed.

                “The logical process is to validate the order, which we did, and then execute it. We assume the commanders have a good reason for issuing it.”

                “So, you make no attempt to ensure orders that might not be valid, are so?”

                Sanna was beginning to get annoyed as well but refused to allow it to show. “If you are asking, would I try and communicate with the Ministry, the answer would be ‘no’.”

                “Why not?”

                “That could compromise operational security.”

                T'Pah sighed and turned towards Saanik. She saw him mouth something at her. At first, she wasn't quite sure what, but after a moment, she figured it out.

                “Sub Commander, have you ever been involved with the Ministry of Intelligence?”

                Salek sat up slightly upon hearing her mention his ministry. Sanna at first did not say anything, however his silence was overshadowed by the prosecutor.

                “Objection. What does that have to do with anything?”

                “I believe my client was set up by someone within the Ministry and if the Sub Commander has worked with them before this will bolster my theory.”

                The judges conferred for a moment before the lead judge turned back to T'Pah. “Very well. But if this whole day is going to be nothing but fishing, let us know and we will just end the trial now.”

                T'Pah nodded at her partial victory and turned back to Sanna. “Well?”

                “No,” Sanna responded. Salek looked around with his eyes to see if anyone was looking at him. He was relieved to find that everyone thought T'Pah's theory was as crazy as he had hoped they would.

                “Liar,” T'Pah snapped as she walked back to her table. “Nothing further.”

                The judges excused Sanna and turned back to the prosecution. “Next witness?”

                “I'd like to call the former Defense Minister to the stand.”

                Saanik stood, turned to T’Pah, and nodded to her reassuringly. He then walked up to the witness stand and is sworn in. He then read off all his background, making special note to draw emphasis on all his commendations and citations he had received for his service to Vulcan.

                After the five-minute presentation, some of which even impressed the young prosecuting attorney, the questioning began. Most of it was reasonable. What his opinion of the Federation was, what he was doing that night, how his relationship with the military was. But this prosecutor knew what he was doing and knew how to turn up the heat when it was time.

                “Sir, how many people, besides you, have the action key set?” he asked.

                Saanik knew this question was coming. He dreaded answering it. “No one,” he dryly replied.

                “So, you are the only one who can issue an offensive strike order?”

                “Yes,” Saanik replied. “Legally,” he amended.

                “You say you were at your house that night,” The prosecutor continued, “but Defense Ministry computer and security camera logs show you there until 03:35 – almost an hour and a half AFTER the strike occurred.” The prosecutor turned to the judge. “I would like to enter these logs into evidence as Prosecution Exhibit 1.”

                The judge nodded and made a note on his pad as the associate judges began to review the logs and tapes.

                “These have to have been altered. I was not there,” Saanik argued.

                “Nonsense,” the prosecutor sniped. “I can see you plain as day.” The prosecutor brought up an image on the courts view showing a clear video image of Saanik walking past a security guard. The footage shows the Stardate of the attack as well as the time.

                “I was not there,” Saanik insisted.

                “I enter into evidence, Prosecution Exhibit 2,” the prosecutor began to punch some things up on his PADD, uploading data to the judges, to T'Pah and to the monitor. “Forensic evidence, your DNA and fingerprints were found in the command room after the strike.”

                “WAIT!” T'Pah yelled. “This was not in discovery! I object to this evidence!”

                “I've worked there for fifteen years,” Saanik stated, keeping much cooler than his lawyer. “My DNA and fingerprints are probably all over that building.”

                “The evidence was legally obtained,” the chief judge stated, addressing T'Pah's outburst. “Your objected is noted, but overruled.”

                T'Pah scoffed and sat back down. She had a feeling walking into this that the trial was going to be for show only and in her mind, surprise evidence was clinching it. The fact that the evidence was obtained legally was moot. How could she prepare a proper defense if she had no idea what evidence the government had against Saanik?

                The prosecutor, who was obviously far more experienced than his young age let on, showed no thrill in his victory and disregarded T'Pah's emotionless pouting and continued to work on Saanik. “What about the three Sh'Ran class ships that destroyed the food convoy?”

                Saanik remember back to the argument he had gotten into with Salek back in Vora's office several months ago after the food convoy was destroyed. He was beginning to become more and more convinced that Salek had something to do with all of this.

                “Those ships were not acting under my authority,” Saanik told the court. It was the truth. Saanik had not and would not order any of the ships in his command to attack unarmed ships. They had to be acting alone, or much more likely, under someone else's command. He was sure he knew whose authority they were operating under, but he needed more proof.

                “So, everyone was just going rouge? That's what you're saying?” the prosecutor mocked.

                “No,” Saanik replied, refusing to let the young man's belittling tone get the best of him. “They were operating under someone's orders. Just not mine.”

                “I would like to enter into evidence Prosecution Exhibit 3,” the prosecutor stated, uploading more information. He had grown tired of not getting Saanik to go all emotional, which would have certainly made him look foolish and worked against the elder politician.

                “This is the strike order,” the prosecutor pointed at the view screen. “Sir, is that or is that not your signature and your thumbprint?”

                Saanik studied the display for a moment. “That does look like my signature and thumbprint, yes.”

                “Is that your personal authorization number?”

                Saanik again looked at the screen, studying the wall of numbers below his signature. “Yes.”

                “Who besides you knows your authorization number?”

                “As far as I am aware, no one,” Saanik replied.

                “So logically speaking, you are the only one who could have placed it on that strike order, yes or no?” The prosecutor more stated than asked. Saanik knew there was no point in trying to argue with the prosecutor. He had plenty of opportunity to plead his case when T'Pah questioned him.

                “Logically speaking, yes,” Saanik replied.

                The prosecutor paused, almost expressing shock at how easy Saanik admitted that he was likely the only one who could have issued the order. The young man pondered for a moment, deciding whether he had any more questions, then turned to the judge.

                “I have no further questions, as I believe I have proven my case.”

                The judge nodded and looked to T'Pah. “You may question the witness.”

                T'Pah acknowledged the judge but remained seated for a moment. She looked across the table at the man she had grown quite fond of, both professionally and personally. A man she knew would never turn his back on his people and especially not on the Federation.

                “What are your feelings on the Federation, Minister?” T'Pah asked, again using Saanik's revoked title, something that seemed to irk many in the room.

                “I already asked him this,” the prosecutor objected.

                “And now I am,” T'Pah snarled at him.

                The prosecutor just rolled his eyes and shook his head, indicating his annoyance with T'Pah's questioning.

                T'Pah, meanwhile turned back to Saanik. “Minister?”

                “I believe the Federation is a good devise to ensure peace and free trade between many planets,” Saanik replied.

                “Do you think the Vulcan secession was good?”

                Saanik shook his head. “No.”

                “What about the Federation presence on the planet?” T'Pah asked, standing, and walking to Saanik. “You were the Minister of Defense. Didn't having all those foreign soldiers on our soil concern you?”

                Saanik again shook his head. “I did not consider the Federation troops ‘foreign’. I looked at them as a supplement to our own planetary defense forces.”

                “So then why did you attack them?” T'Pah asked, somewhat startling Saanik.

                Quickly though, Saanik played along. “The idea that I would is simply ludicrous. I've been in that very building-” Saanik pointed out the window at the High Command Headquarters that sat across the street from the judiciary building, “-arguing that we need to allow Starfleet to continue to be our primary defensive mechanism.”

                T'Pah smiled and moved on, walking to the viewer that still had the image of the strike order on it. “You acknowledge that this is your signature and thumbprint?”

                “I acknowledge that it looks like my signature and thumbprint,” Saanik clarified.

                “Fair enough,” the young lady grinned. “Can you tell me, if you didn't sign this order, how it could be possible for someone to forge the document?”

                “Objection!” the prosecutor called out. “Didn't you warn her?”

                T'Pah turned to the judges. “My client's defense is that he didn't issue the order. Surely he should be allowed to explain how a fabricated order would be issued.”

                The judges conferred for a moment. The chief judge turned to T'Pah. “We agree. You may proceed. The objection is overruled.”

                “Thank you,” T'Pah bowed. She turned to Saanik.

                Saanik thought about this for a moment. Hacking and being sneaky was not his department. If he was ever brought into the mix, it was for an out and out slugfest. “I am no expert,” he admitted. “But I would assume someone hacked into the computer network and got a copy of my signature, thumbprint and authorization number there.”

                T'Pah nodded. “What about the action keys?”

                Saanik turned towards Sanna who was quietly observing from the spectator section. He paused, unsure if he wanted to make the accusation he was about to make. However, with his life on the line, he had no choice. “That would require deception from both the sender of the message and the receiver, as an entirely new set of keys would have to be generated.”

                It was probably best that there were several Vulcan policemen in the room because at that exact moment, Sanna had never wanted to kill another man with his bare hands so much before in his life. It took every little bit of emotion repressing mojo Sanna had to simply keep himself from screaming.

                But he held it in. Saanik noticed his face though. He could tell. His face was full of rage. But was it rage because he had been found out, or rage because he had been falsely accused?

                Saanik's eyes darted towards Salek. Salek seemed cool as a cucumber. Saanik assumed it was because he was a spy. He was used to lies and deception. He could easily disguise his emotions. He wondered though. He wondered what Salek really was thinking right now.

                “Minister,” T'Pah continued. “The strike was ordered at 23:40 local time. Where were you?”

                Saanik knew exactly where he was. “I was at home.”

                “Is there any proof of this?” T'Pah asked, knowing the answer.

                “There are transporter logs of me returning home at the end of my day. There is no way to prove I stayed at home though, as I live alone since my wife died.”

                “No transporter logs of you beaming back either. And the guards stationed outside your home...” T'Pah turned to the judges. “All the Ministers get military protection at their homes.” T'Pah turned back to Saanik. “The guards said they never saw you leave.”

                Saanik watched the young lady walk over to the prosecutor’s desk and look at him. “So, either he beamed over and deleted the transporter log, but forgot to delete all the other evidence that would implicate him, or he never left his house, and the evidence is fabricated.”

                T'Pah marched back to Saanik. “Did you order the strike?”

                “No.”

                “Nothing further.”

                “The witness is dismissed,” the chief judge said.

                The trial went on for another few hours with the remainder of the witnesses mainly being people blabbing on about technical issues and material witnesses talking about how trustworthy one side was and how shady the other side is. Once that was done, the judges went off to confer privately. As they were doing that, few people chatted with each other, most however sat in silence.

                Saanik had this sinking feeling, though, that someone was eyeing him. Obviously, all eyes were on him, as the trial was about him. But there was someone there who probably was not actually supposed to be there. And they were watching him closely.

                Saanik took another look around the room. In the back sat two Vulcans who chatted quietly to themselves, taking the occasional look at Saanik. One of them noticed Saanik looking at them and nodded a greeting.

                Saanik wasn't sure why but felt reassured by them. He nodded back. T'Pah looked to him.

                “Who are you nodding at?”

                Saanik turned to his friend. “I don't know. However, I feel like they're here to help me.”

                T'Pah was about to turn to them when the rear door opened, and the judges began walking back in. The room stood to pay their respects until the group of Vulcan judicials seated themselves.

                The chief justice turned to Saanik and T'Pah. “Please rise.”

                The pair did as they were instructed. The judge continued. “Former Defense Minister Saanik, Vulcan law states that we must start off with a presumption of innocence and that guilt must be proved beyond a reasonable doubt. And while your attorney as brought us theories that would make for a good human spy novel, we must consider the evidence at hand.”

                Saanik lowered his head as T'Pah bit her lip.

                “By a vote of five to zero,” the judge continued, “we find you guilty on all counts.”

                A quiet murmur went through the room as the judge smashed his Vulcan gavel against the hard metal table. “As well, for sentencing, by a vote of five to zero, you are hereby sentenced to death, with the sentence to be carried out in seven days.”

                Another gavel bang.

                The guards moved up towards Saanik. He looked to T'Pah as the room began to clear out. Saanik smiled at her. “You did the best you could. I am proud of you.”

                T'Pah, determined to continue repressing her emotions, bit harder on her lip. “Saanik.”

                Saanik held up his hand, his fingers split into the Vulcan hand gesture. “Live long and prosper.”

                T'Pah could only watch as the guards took Saanik away to the final seven days of his life.

                In the back of the room, Salek also watched, his emotion repressing system working full blast to keep from dancing a jig in the middle of the court room. Every thorn in his side now gone. Well, almost everyone. Saotome was still out there somewhere, and Larson was missing but right now they were not here and that was all that mattered.

                Salek almost skipped out of the room and past the two Vulcan strangers who had made eye contact with Saanik earlier. They looked to the dejected T'Pah and then whispered to each other before walking out of the courthouse.

                The pair slowly walked down a Vulcan street noting some of the 'Vulcan is now free' propaganda that some of the 'anti-Federation' groups had hung up.

                Most of it was taken down as soon as it was put up simply because most of the population did not really care. They were neither pro-Federation nor anti-Federation. They were just Vulcans.

                Once the pair got to a less populated area they began to walk faster, their Vulcan robes blowing in the light breeze. The heavy gravity on the planet caused their breathing to grow heavy, causing anyone who was paying close attention to tell that these two were not ordinary Vulcans.

                Finally, the pair got to an unpopulated area. They slinked around a corner and into an alleyway where one of them pulled out a small, black PADD. He tapped it and looked to his friend.

                “TC to Minneapolis. Two to beam up.”

                After a moment, the two disappeared in the usual blue, Starfleet transporter effect.

                Ranma had begun to grow weary of staring out the oversized window of the Sovereign class Crossroads auxiliary conference room. It was not that he did not enjoy seeing the stars streak by. Had he disliked that, he would have gone mad over the past eleven weeks. It was the fact that for whatever the compulsion, Ranma was attempting to count the stars.

                He did not know what the purpose was either. Many of the stars were being blended together, a side effect of the warp field. He assumed, though, that it would give him something new to do.

                Life had been quite dull for him these past two months. This was not his ship, so he had no command duties. He even offered to help in other ways but was told that it would be unnecessary.

                The Crossroads, despite having many activities on board, did not really have anything Ranma wanted to do. He spent some time in the virtual nightclub that Gosnell had created, Benny's, but one can only spend so much time listening to the drunken karaoke screeches of his crew.

                Other times he set up his own holodeck program to continue his martial arts training and to keep him in shape. However, the lack of any real danger his holographic opponents presented annoyed him to no end.

                The only time he felt like he was doing anything that was remotely useful was when he was briefed by Admiral Larson. Larson would keep him up to date on what was happening back in the Federation and would constantly assure him that once he and the rest of the Sisko's crew returned, they would both be needed and put to great use.

                At the end of each briefing Larson would tell him, 'Enjoy the ride back because once you return, it's going to be hell.'

                Ranma had to be the only person on the ship looking more forward to the hell than enjoying the ride back.

                The pig-tailed man sighed and leaned back in his chair, placing his feet up onto the window ledge. He reached over to pick up a glass of tea he had been nursing for the better part of an hour now. Instead of the tea glass, however, he felt the soft hand of a woman.

                Not the woman he was expecting to see, though. “How long have you been standing there?” Ranma asked.

                The purple haired Amazon smiled and handed the tea glass to Ranma. “About five minute,” she replied.

                Ranma took a drink and motioned for Shampoo to sit down next to him. Shampoo did and leaned back, mimicking Ranma's pose. “It seems a little creepy for you to just stand around, watching me.”

                Shampoo had to admit that it probably was a little creepy, as she would not want anyone standing around watching her. “Yeah. But Shampoo just want to come and see how you doing. Ranma keeping to yourself so much lately.”

                Ranma and Shampoo's relationship had been extremely complicated. From prey and hunter to the day Ranma removed her from duty for her alcoholism, to the breach of trust she felt when Ranma and Akane were married, and he lied about it; their interpersonal connection has had its moments. However, they had become closer lately. Shampoo having found love again in someone else, reducing – but of course not eliminating – Akane's jealousy, having had a lot to do with that.

                As well as everything the pair went through together on Valarie. The loss of the Sisko had deeply affected both in a way that most of the other crew members wouldn't be able to understand.

                Ranma finally nodded. “I guess I am just, bored.”

                Shampoo laughed. Ranma turned to her, slightly perturbed. “What?”

                “Staring out window by yourself is not usually good way to cure boredom,” Shampoo explained.

                Ranma smirked. He knew she was right. “Well, what do you suggest I do?”

                Shampoo stood and held out her hand. Ranma looked around at first, making sure that Akane was nowhere nearby. Again, Akane's jealousy had been reduced, not eliminated. Once he was certain he was safe, Ranma took Shampoo's hand and was pulled out of his seat.

                “We have 35 hour before we reach destination,” Shampoo explained. “Spend day with Shampoo. I promise I make it fun.”

                Ranma was skeptical but agreed. “Sure.”

                Shampoo took Ranma out by the hand and the pair headed towards the nearest turbolift.

                Inside Benny's it was relatively quiet. The majority of the Sisko crew who visited did not usually show up till later. The ones that were there now were the ones that Gosnell had labeled as 'Benny's Furniture' as they were there almost all the time.

                Those included his wife, Minako, and Usagi. Occasionally Rei was with them, but she was adamant about not allowing the NEO teams to get out of practice and continued to work despite the order of 'on ship shore leave.'

                Due to the current low customer count, and the efficiency of holographic waitresses, Gosnell had joined the 'furniture' in their daily gossip. Most of it bored him, as it was typical 'girls talking about boys' gibberish, however when the topic turned to Ryouga, his ears perked up.

                “I understand that Ryouga is planning on asking for an official transfer to the Starfleet Marines,” Makoto asked Minako.

                Minako appeared rather sullen about this request and she was not shy about vocalizing her disapproval. “Yes. He decided that he liked being shot at more than he liked piloting ships.”

                “What kind of nut would want to get shot at?” Usagi asked. Makoto glared at her. “Oh, well...” Usagi trailed off.

                “Whatever new ship we get, Minako...” Makoto explained, turning her attention back to her other friend who was going through her drink a little more quickly now. “...I am sure Captain Saotome can make sure Ryouga stays with our marine complement.”

                Minako shook her head. “I'm not upset about that, Makoto. Being split up does not bother me. That’s something that's a part of this job. What does bother me is the idea of him getting killed.”

                The group nodded. That was indeed a hazard of being in the marines. Obviously, it was risk that all Starfleet personnel took, but marines more than took it. They went out and found it.

                Minako grumbled and continued. “I finally find a decent man and he wants to run off and get himself shot. It seems selfish to me.”

                “If you'll pardon my bluntness, Commander,” Gosnell interjected, “but it sounds to me like you're also being pretty selfish.”

                All eyes turned to Gosnell. The bearded alien blinked, realizing the hornet's nest he was poking, but continued anyway. “Ryouga seems to have found his calling. Something that he believes is bigger than himself, and a way that he can serve the Federation in a better way than flying in circles. What you view as selfishness, he views as selflessness.”

                The eyes of the group remained on Gosnell. Not so much now for his rude interjection, but more for the fact that something so deep could come from someone whose advise rarely moves beyond white or brown gravy.

                Finally, Minako spoke again, her eyes getting a little misty. “I guess I can't have it both ways, can I?”

                Makoto, Usagi, and Gosnell all looked to her for clarification.

                “Stability and love?”

                Makoto shook her head. “You can't control who you fall in love with, so by its very nature, there is nothing stable about love.”

                Minako nodded, smiled, and looked to Gosnell. “Thanks.”

                Gosnell nodded back and patted Minako on the shoulder. “For what it's worth, from what the Captain has told me about Ryouga, he's resourceful enough that I don't think you have a thing to worry about.”

                Minako chuckled as Usagi motioned towards the doors. “Speak of the devil.”

                The group looked over to see Ryouga standing there in civilian clothes, looking around. He noticed the group and waved. The group all waved for him to join them. Ryouga, somewhat halfheartedly, did as he was asked.

                “Hey!” Minako smiled, leaning up and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Ryouga, still not one for public displays of affection, blushed and grinned.

                “Hiya,” he looked around some more.

                “Something wrong?” Makoto asked.

                “Hm? No,” Ryouga stated, finally sitting down. “Have any of you guys though seen Ranma?”

                “The Captain?” Makoto asked, putting some emphasis on the word 'captain' to show her displeasure in Ryouga's lax respect for Ranma's rank. “No, I haven't seen him since our last briefing.”

                The rest of the group also acknowledged that they also had not seen Ranma in a while.

                “Oh, well,” Ryouga sighed. He ordered a drink from a waitress that had appeared and began chatting with the group.

-----

                STARDATE 61213.3 – 11 WEEKS, 2 DAYS AFTER RESCUE; 5 DAYS FROM EARTH.

                The majority of the Sisko's command staff had assembled on the bridge of the U.S.S. Crossroads. They had been waiting for this day for weeks and every one of them had wanted to see it for themselves. The remainder of the Sisko crew had piled into every forward-looking observation room they could find.

                Everyone wanted to be the first to see their new ship.

                Which is why the words 'disappointment', 'frustration', and even 'anger' could not begin to describe the emotions that were building up in Ranma and a large chunk of both the Sisko and Crossroads crew as first they saw no ships waiting for them on long range scanners and then eventually, short range.

                “What's our ETA?” Ami Muzino, captain of the Crossroads asked her operations officer.

                “Eight minutes,” he replied. “We're well within both long and short-range scan range.”

                Ami looked to Ranma. Ranma turned to the operations station. “You're sure these are the coordinates that Admiral Larson gave us?”

                The operations officer, having already been asked that question several times, nodded in frustration. “Yes sir.”

                Ranma sighed. Akane turned to him. “Maybe they're just running behind and aren't here yet.”

                Ranma wished he could be that optimistic. He also wished he was able to try and contact Larson, but they were order to both maintain radio silence and to deactivate their transponder.

                Both ship's crews could do nothing but wait the remaining eight minutes until the Crossroads reached her destination. The mighty ship dropped out of warp and slowed to a crawl in open space.

                Ami quickly stormed up to the operations station and began to look at the sensor data for herself. Just as the operations officer had told her, there was not a ship for parsecs.

                At least none that they could see.

                “CAPTAIN!” the Crossroads first officer, Commander Adcock, yelled as he stood.

                Ami turned towards the viewer.

                Surrounding the Crossroads, about three dozen Romulan warships decloaked.  Ami quickly turned to tactical. “RED ALERT! SHEILDS!!!” She screamed.

                Ranma blinked. “Wait.”

                His quiet objection was likely unheard as the heavy cruiser's klaxons sounded and her crew started scurrying to their battle stations. Adcock started barking out orders, as did Ami. However, it was the operations officer who brought calm to the situation.

                “Captain!” he shouted over the noise. “We're being hailed. They're using Admiral Larson's encrypted frequency.”

                Ami screeched to a halt. She turned to the viewscreen. “Open the channel.”

                On the viewer, Admiral Larson appeared. He wore a solemn, yet friendly expression on his face. “Captain Muzino, good evening. I apologize for startling you, but I can assure you that these ships are with me, and they won't fire on you. You can stand down from your alert status.”

                Ami ordered the channel muted and looked to tactical. “Have any of them activated their weapons or defenses?”

                “No ma'am,” tactical responded.

                Ami sighed. “Stand down red alert then.” She nodded to operations then turned back to the viewer. “You will forgive me, Admiral. I am not used to all this 'secretive' stuff.”

                Larson chuckled. “Not at all, Captain. I appreciate the care you take in protecting your ship and her crew. Would you mind if I and Admiral Saotome came aboard?”

                “Not at all,” Ami smiled.

                “Excellent.”

                “Uh, Admiral,” Ranma said, from the back of the bridge.

                “Ranma?”

                “I hate to point out the obvious, but there is no Federation ship in your fleet,” Ranma continued.

                Larson again chuckled. “We'll chat.”

                Ami walked into the conference room with Larson and Genma in tow. The room, consisting of the Sisko's command staff, as well as Lt. Devall and Rei, stood to acknowledge the two flag officers. Ranma walked over to greet the pair. A firm handshake was the greeting from Larson. “Glad to have you, well, close to home.”

                “Thank you, sir,” Ranma smiled.

                Genma was a little less subtle about how he felt. The larger, balder Admiral nearly killed Ranma he was squeezing him so tight. Despite the fact he could not breathe, Ranma didn't mind.

                “OH, IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, BOY!” Genma cried.

                “Kssdow,” Ranma replied.

                Ami smiled at the reunion and turned to leave, but Larson stopped her. “Captain, I will be departing with the Sisko's crew in about an hour. After that, I would like for you to return to your previous mission.”

                Ami nodded.

                “It is imperative,” Larson continued, “that you avoid Federation space. The Romulan Star Empire has agreed to allow your ship safe passage so long as you do not stop. As well, you need to ignore any instructions from Starfleet to return to Sol for the time being.”

                Ami blinked. “Aye sir.”

                Larson looked at her for a moment. “This is probably very confusing, but I assure you, it's for you and your crews’ own safety right now. If they find out that you assisted me or Captain Saotome, they will try and destroy you.”

                “Who?” Ami asked.

                Larson sighed. “That's what we're off to find out.”

                Ami simply nodded and walked out of the conference room. Larson started to walk to the table but noticed that Genma still had Ranma locked in a massive bear – or panda bear, if you will – hug. Larson chuckled and managed to dislodge the Captain free.

                “Pop,” Ranma gasped.

                “Sorry,” Genma cried.

                Ranma patted his old man on the back and the group took their place as Larson started his presentation. The first part of it was basically things that they already knew. What was going on with the Federation, some of it was new information, like the skirmishes that had taken place. Larson also presented his theory on what has caused all the chaos.

                “There has to be someone either with the Vulcan government, the Federation, or both that planted false information to push this snowball down the hill, creating the situation we have today.

                “There have always been people, on both sides, who have wanted Vulcan out of the Federation, but it's always failed because both sides realize it's in both our best interests for Vulcan to be in the Federation.”

                “How did we get involved in this?” Ranma asked, pretty much summing up what was on the minds of everyone in the room.

                “Happenstance,” Larson responded. “Your near failure to stop the Vulcan terrorists from attacking Vulcan and the subsequent errant torpedo strike gave the artists of this conspiracy a point on which to work from.”

                Ranma snarled. He knew he had made a mistake, but he did not think it was a mistake big enough to collapse the entire Federation. “What about the Sisko. What was the point in trying to kill us?”

                Larson shrugged. “That I don't know. Perhaps the head of the shipyard was going to be a sacrificial lamb. A Vulcan Starfleet officer sabotaging your engines and killing you as an act of retaliation. Had it worked there would have been no evidence of the foreign devices on your engines.”

                “But it didn't work, and there is,” JC noted.

                “Indeed. In fact, Lieutenant, when we board your new ship there are some Romulan scientists who have a great deal of experience working with Borg technology who I'd like you collaborate with on finding out where those devices came from,” Larson instructed.

                JC nodded, interested in the concept of working with Romulans.

                “Speaking of which,” Ranma noted, looking out the window. “As I mentioned previously, I don't see any Federation ships out there.”

                “That's because you're not getting a Federation ship,” Larson replied rather bluntly.

                Ranma took a moment to dissect Larson's statement. While he did not say that he was not getting a ship, he did say that he wasn't getting a Federation ship. However, the only ships out there were Romulan ships. Did that mean...

                “We getting Romulan ship?” Shampoo asked, completing Ranma's thought out loud.

                Larson nodded and activated the viewer. “I am sure you are familiar with this ship class.”

                Ranma looked at the viewer with annoyance. “That's the ship the Vulcan terrorists had.”

                “It's the same class, yes,” Larson corrected the younger man. “This is a Talon class battlecruiser. As you will recall from the last time you encountered this type of ship, it is quite sturdy.”

                Ranma could not disagree with that statement.

                “That ship was one of their prototypes. The one the Romulan Guard is allowing us to use is not. It's a fully functional version of the ship that will be quite capable of dealing with most things we come across.”

                Larson stood and walked to the view screen. “However hopefully we will not have to come across them as this ship can obviously cloak. Her transporter system also works while she is cloaked, so it's perfect for the covert nature of our current task.”

                “And Romulans just letting us borrow this ship?” Shampoo asked, again saying what Ranma and likely the rest of the room was thinking.

                Larson nodded. “More or less. Nothing is free, of course, but it's not anything you guys need to concern yourselves with.”

                Ranma wasn't sure exactly how to take that, but at times like these beggars can't be choosers. Right now, he was simply happy to have a ship again and be able to do something.

                “Well, alrighty then,” Ranma said, standing. “When do we get to see her?”

                Ranma and his commanders slowly stepped out onto the bridge of the Romulan warship and looked around. The ship was certainly going to be an adjustment from the Sisko. The command chair sat in the center, atop a pedestal, by itself. A smaller tactical station for the executive officer was along the wall, along with a separate station for each position, weapons, security, operations, communications, and engineering.

                Her helm console was the only thing that looked like it was where it was supposed to be, placed directly between the COMM and the main viewer.

                The lighting was going to take some getting used to as well. The Romulans loved green. Most of the tract lighting was green with dimmer, white light shining down from the center of the bridge.

                There was also the issue with everything being in Romulan. That was going to be the hardest thing to get used to.

                The commander of the ship walked up to Ranma. He did a Romulan salute, which Ranma attempted to return.

                “Captain Saotome, I presume?”

                “Yes,” Ranma replied.

                “I am Commander Naraj, of the Romulan Guard, captain of the RSE Iorhae'edh,” The commander eyed over Ranma and his command staff. Too many females for his liking, but he had heard good things about this group. As well, they had destroyed a previous Talon class cruiser, so perhaps they were not as hapless as they appeared. “I have been instructed to relinquish command of my ship to you.”

                Ranma did not need to be a Betazoid to sense the fact that this gentleman was not happy about giving up his ship. Ranma could sympathize. He would not have liked it if someone had told him to hand over the Sisko to a bunch of Romulans either. “And I have been requested to *temporarily* assume command of the Iorhae'edh till we can complete our current assignment,” Ranma made special care to stress the word 'temporarily.'

                The Romulan commander nodded and began yelling in Romulan to his bridge crew. The bridge crew got up and slowly began filing past the Sisko crew into the turbolift. Naraj then started barking at the computer. Ranma felt certain he heard his name somewhere in the mess of Romulan orders, and Naraj confirmed it.

                “Captain, all command functions have been transferred to you.”

                “I relieve you then, Commander.”

                “I stand relieved,” the Romulan replied. He began to walk towards the turbolift, but stopped and turned back to Ranma, grinning ever so slightly. “Captain, while I hope you do shoot as many Vulcans as you find yourself able to, I would quite appreciate it if you brought my ship back in one piece.”

                Ranma nodded. “I will do my best.”

                The Romulan, who was hoping for better reassurance than that, nodded and joined the rest of his crew in the turbolift. Once the doors were closed, Ranma turned to Larson, who looked at him with the same look he always gave Ranma in these kinds of situations.

                “If you lose it, you'll be dead, so don't worry about it.”

                Ranma could not help but laugh. Larson was right. If Ranma did lose this ship, an irate Romulan commander was going to be the least of his problems.

                Larson turned to the master situation display and smirked at the Romulan wording that adorned it. Without looking to the group, he began to speak. “Computer, load Federation language protocols.”

                “Acknowledged,” the quite straight forward, male computer voice replied, albeit in Federation standard. It was not the friendly, Starfleet female computer voice, however it was in a language the crew could understand without the assistance of their universal translators. The consoles and monitors all switched to Federation standard (English for you non-geeks out there) as well.

                Ranma and the rest of the bridge crew smiled. “This will make things a bit easier,” Makoto said.

                “Speak for yourself,” Minako sighed. “I went through the effort of learning basic Romulan.”

                “In under an hour?!” Usagi screeched.

                Minako nodded. “Is that weird?”

                “For you, no,” Rei grinned.

                Minako, assuming that was snipe at her for being smarter than the rest, took everyone's surprise as a compliment and began to work her way down to her station. She made it halfway down the bridge before realizing that she had no clue which one of the stations along the wall of the bridge was the operations station.

                “So, which is which?” Makoto asked, saving Minako from having to ask.

                Ranma looked at his PADD and began to point as he called out. “Tactical. Operations. Communications – that's where I'd like Lt. Kaii, Commander Aino.”

                Minako nodded as she went to her station.

                “Security,” Ranma pointed. He turned to Makoto. “They aren't combined on this ship. I guess it's your call on where or not you want to run that or tactical.”

                Makoto was not going to give up the opportunity to run the weapons on a Romulan warship. “Yeah, I'll stick Amanda on security.”

                Ranma nodded. “Engineering, and helm.” Ranma blinked. “Oh, right.”

                Shampoo looked at Ranma. “Something wrong?”

                Ranma shook his head. “No, just something I have been putting off.” He lied. He had not been putting it off. He had been avoiding it. For rather selfish reasons as well. Reasons that he would deal with later and felt he should probably apologize to Ryouga for. But that was something for another time.

                “Shampoo, that's the XO's station,” Ranma pointed.

                “Awww,” Shampoo pouted. “Shampoo no more get to sit next to Ranma and drive Akane insane.”

                Ranma grinned. “She's over it.”

                “Liar,” Shampoo smiled back, pointing to the back of the bridge, where Akane was hanging out, looking around. Shampoo seemed to be right though. Akane's battle aura was glowing, even if Akane herself did not exactly know why.

                Ranma turned back to Shampoo. “Getting over it.”

                Shampoo smiled. “You want Shampoo to get Ryouga up here?”

                “No,” Ranma said, losing his smile. “Ryouga is no longer our flight officer. Please assign the next in line.”

                Shampoo nodded and without question, headed to her station. Ranma headed to his chair and sat down as Akane and Larson came up next to him. Ranma turned to the pair, shifting uncomfortably.

                “Something wrong with the seat?” Larson asked.

                Ranma shook his head. “No.” He adjusted himself a bit more. “It's just so... High. I feel more like a ruler up here than I do a captain.”

                “A Romulan commander needs to be able to see all the stations,” Larson explained.

                “There is something else,” Ranma complained.

                “Hm?”

                “The name.”

                “The Romulans will be quite displeased if you go outside and paint the hull of their ship,” Larson smirked.

                “Yeah, yeah,” Ranma acknowledged. “I mean just something for us.”

                Larson shrugged. “I don't have a problem.”

                Ranma smiled as he went to think of a name. Larson turned back to him. “Do you mind if I address your crew?”

                Ranma shook his head.

                Larson activated the ships intercom. “Attention all hands, this is Admiral Larson.

                “Many of you are not aware fully of the events that are going on right now. I'm sorry to say that it will likely have to remain that way. But I would request that you have faith in both myself and your captain that everything we are doing, and will do, will be for the greater good.”

                Larson took a deep breath before continuing. “What I can tell you is that right now there is a conspiracy that is ripping apart the Federation-Vulcan alliance. It has already forced the secession of Vulcan from the Federation. This is about to spark a war between our two worlds which will weaken both and allow our enemies like the Breen, the Cardassians, and potentially even the Dominion again to invade and conquer us.

                “Our only hope of salvation is this ship and its crew. We have extraordinarily little time, but we must disassemble this conspiracy and stop hostilities between Vulcan and the Federation.

                “I have never had the good fortune to work with another group of people that I thought could save the universe more than you,” Larson smiled as the bridge crew watched him. “I place my life, and the life of the Federation in your hands because I know you can protect and save them both. Larson out.”

                Ranma eyed Larson for a moment. The older Admiral looked like he was on the verge of tears. Akane, who was actually crying, rubbed his back. “That was beautiful,” she sniffled.

                Ranma smiled. “Salvation.” The captain hopped out of his seat and ran to the replicator. “One bottle of Romulan Ale.”

                The replicator complied and produced a bottle of the blue liquid. Ranma picked it up and walked to the ship’s current dedication plaque. “Can I have everyone's attention?”

                The bridge crew all turned to their captain, as did Larson and Akane.

                “Because I will have too much trouble pronouncing the proper name of this ship, and because she's my ship right now and it's my prerogative, I, Captain Ranma Saotome of the United Federation of Planets, hereby rechristen this ship, the U.S.S. Salvation.”

                Ranma smashed the bottle of ale over the dedication plaque to roaring approval from the others on the bridge. Ranma smiled till he realized he had made quite a mess on the bridge. “Uh, Commander Tsukino… Could you call maintenance to come and clean this up?”

                Usagi smiled and nodded, happy to oblige.

-----

                Ryouga paced around his new quarters, anxiously watching the clock that ticked away, fortunately now in Federation Standard, above his door. Commander Gosnell had instructed him to be in his quarters and ready for her inspection fifteen minutes ago.

                Ryouga grew worried. Dating the boss’s friend had its benefits, like the ability to joke around. That also came with its drawbacks as well, like joking around when you probably should not.

                'Inspection, eh?' Ryouga remembered saying. Ryouga facepalmed at his own stupidity. “She's coming to demote me now,” he whimpered to himself.

                The room suddenly buzzed annoyingly. Ryouga looked around for a bit before coming to the realization that the buzz was the Romulan equivalent of the Starfleet doorbell.

                “Come in,” Ryouga called, partially unsure.

                To his relief, the doors slid open and Makoto, marine commander Lt. Colonel Nik Lee, and Ranma walked in. Ryouga, wanting to impress, snapped to attention as Ranma looked around the room.

                “Oh, I hope my room doesn't look like this,” Ranma snarled.

                “They all look the same, sir,” Lee sadly reported.

                Ranma sighed and turned to Ryouga. “At ease, Lieutenant.”

                Ryouga relaxed, ever so slightly. Ranma guessed he was not going to get Ryouga to relax anymore with the marine Lt. Colonel in the room, so he decided to move along.

                “Ryouga, I must apologize,” Ranma said, hating every word of it. Their time on the Sisko together had healed a lot of their past differences, but the pair still had a rivalry. Ranma hated to admit when he was either defeated, or wrong. At least this time, it was simply the latter.

                “Apologize?” Ryouga asked for clarification.

                “I've been kinda delaying my part in this for a while. Hoping that you would either fail, which I knew wasn't very likely,” Ryouga blinked at that admission from Ranma, “or give up ensuring that you would stay with this crew.”

                “Why?” Ryouga asked, not really trying to hide the frustration on his voice.

                “Oh, selfish reasons,” Ranma admitted. He walked over an put his hand on Ryouga's shoulder and smiled. “First off, I kind of liked bossing you around. After this mission, there's no guarantee I will be able to do that.”

                Ryouga half smirked.

                Ranma let his hand slide off as he started to remove Ryouga's rank insignia from his collar. “The other thing is that... Well, fuck it,” Ranma growled. “Ryouga, you're a good officer and I like having you in my crew. And if you tell anyone I said that I will make sure you're protecting parking lots on Bajor, you understand me?”

                Ryouga was dumbfounded. Did Ranma compliment him?

                “The captain asked you a question,” Lee barked.

                “Yes sir,” Ryouga stammered. “I understand.”

                Ranma smiled, looked at his old fighting partner, stepped back and outstretched his hand. Ryouga took it and gripped it tightly. The handshake lasted a few seconds longer than it probably needed to, but a lot was said in it. Once his hand was released, Ranma began to speak again.

                “See now here is the awkward part,” he chuckled. “Ryouga, remember, the marine ranks are different. While it might be called the same, you are NOT the same rank as me, got that?”

                Ryouga laughed. “Yes sir.”

                Ranma laughed too. “Okay then. I Captain Ranma Saotome, do hereby release Lt. Ryouga Hibiki into the command of the Starfleet Marine Corp on Stardate 61214.0.”

                Lee began to read. “I, Lieutenant Colonel Nik Lee, of the Starfleet Marine Corps; assigned U.S.S. Benjamin L. Sisko – ah – U.S.S. Salvation - do hereby assume command and responsibility of Captain Ryouga Hibiki.

                Ryouga beamed at his rank designation. Ranma was right. Captain was just the marine equivalent of the navy Lieutenant, but still, it was awesome to hear that rank before his name. As well, the dual silver bars on his collar seemed shinier than the two gold pips he had before.

                Makoto turned to Lee. “What are you going to do with him?”

                Lee though about it for a second. “Recon.”

                Ranma, Makoto, and especially Ryouga stared at Lee. Lee looked at the trio with concern. “I take it his sense of direction is not something we are to joke about?”

                “So, you know?!” Ranma asked quickly.

                “Yes sir.”

                Ranma sighed an enormous sigh of relief, then began to laugh. He patted Lee on the shoulder. “Well done, Colonel. Well done,” Ranma slowly strolled out of the room, followed by a less jovial Makoto. Lee turned to Ryouga, advised him of when he would be expected to report for duty, congratulated him, and headed out himself.

                Ryouga smiled and walked over to his mirror. He looked at himself and his bars for a moment before noticing Minako standing behind him in the doorway.

                “So, you went through with it?” Minako said, acknowledging the captain's bars on Ryouga's dress uniform. Ryouga sighed and nodded.

                “Are you upset?”

                Minako stepped in far enough so that the doors could close behind her. “Yes,” she said honestly. “But does that really matter?”

                Ryouga stood there, looking at her reflection in the mirror. At this point, it did not really matter. He had already been transferred. He likely was not going to get transferred back. “It matters to me.” He finally answered.

                “Then why didn't you care if would be upset before you asked for a transfer? Before you decided to make a living out of standing in front of incoming fire?” Minako asked, starting to cry.

                Ryouga turned and moved towards her. Minako started to move away, causing the bandana clad man to stop. He bit his lip and shook his head, not understanding what Minako was so upset about. “You didn't seem scared at all when I went out on that mission on Valeri,” he argued. “We were greatly outnumbered!”

                “We were better than them,” Minako countered. “It was likely you'd survive.”

                “Are you some kind of android?!” Ryouga exclaimed.

                Minako growled at him. “No. I just look at things in a logical and scien-” Ryouga's laughter cut her off.

                “Oh worse!” he cackled. “You're a freaking Vulcan!”

                Minako's blood began to boil at the mocking she was receiving. She turned and began to storm towards the door, but Ryouga grabbed her and pushed her into a chair.

                “For once you will listen to what I have to say, K?” Ryouga stated more than asked.

                Minako, angry, sad, and scared said nothing, but did stare straight at Ryouga who at brought himself down to where he would be eye level with Minako.

                “Why didn't you go back to that Starbase after the first couple of missions? You could have gotten off the Sisko – you had the sway. Why didn't you?” Ryouga asked, quietly, but very demanding of an answer.

                “What?”

                “WHY DID YOU STAY?” Ryouga yelled.

                Minako, having never had Ryouga raise his voice with her, nearly screamed. She managed to maintain her composure though and thought back. She had considered leaving the Sisko after the first couple of missions. All the blunders, all the non-sense the ship seemed to be involved in. Minako, though, came to realize that she could not. She had grown on board and that she needed to be on the Sisko and not sitting in some lab.

                She knew what answer Ryouga wanted too.

“Because I could do more here than there.”

                Ryouga sat down on the floor and leaned back. “I'm worthless as a helmsman. Slightly less worthless in security. But the marines... They taught me how I could serve Starfleet and the Federation in ways I could only imagine.” Ryouga sat back up and looked at Minako. “And yes, there is a risk. There is always a risk when you put everything on the line for something you love.”

                Minako started to cry again. “But... I love you.”

                “And I love you,” Ryouga replied, bringing himself close to Minako's face. “That's why I am willing to put my body in harm’s way to ensure that this ship and the Federation is protected for you.”

                Minako could only cry as Ryouga pulled the two of them together for a long and tender kiss. As Ryouga finally pulled his mouth off hers, she finally mumbled, “I'm so selfish.”

                Ryouga smiled and shook his head. “I'm selfish. I'm not doing this for the greater good. I'm doing it for you.”

                Minako smiled as the pair kissed once more.

                “What is that girl staring at?” the Romulan scientist asked, his eyes darting across engineering towards Usagi who was doing a bad job at pretending to be working while watching JC and three Romulans work on the Borg parts taken from the Sisko.

                “Maybe she thinks we're going to steal something,” another Romulan joked.

                JC chuckled. “It's your ship, what's the point?”

                The Romulans halted their chuckling and looked to JC. “I'm growing quite fond of you,” the lead one said.

                “I assume you mean that in a professional manner?” JC asked.

                The two associate Romulans smirked as the head Romulan just shook his head.

                “On a more serious note,” JC said, changing the subject back to the work at hand, “we have a pretty good idea of what each object's job was and what it did, based on where we found it.”

                “And every one of them was on the warp drive?” one scientist asked.

                JC nodded. “Or on something that in some way would regulate power or plasma to the drive.”

                “Whoever did this was running a pretty big risk then,” another scientist mentioned.

                “They did an incredibly good job of attaching and concealing them. As you can see that one-” JC pointed to one on the floor being guarded by two security officers, “-we had to just beam a whole chunk of the bulkhead off.”

                “Maybe it's best we started with that one then, since they went through that much trouble?” the lead scientist suggested.

                JC nodded. “That's a good idea, and Commander if you get any closer, you'll be in my back pocket.”

                Usagi blinked, not realizing how close she had gotten to the group. “Oh, sorry. I am just, fixing the- uh- neutron fuse generators.”

                One of the scientists was about to speak before JC silently told him not to bother. Usagi scurried off and JC smiled. “She's just unhappy she's being left out of the loop.”

                “She is the chief engineer. Shouldn't she be involved?” a scientist asked.

                “NO!” everyone in engineering called out.

                JC nodded. “She's just going to wander around and listen in. It's fine. Let's get to work on that big piece.”

                The group all walked over to the large piece of the Sisko's bulkhead with the book sized device attached to it. Despite the fact that it was not attached to anything and having been half demolished by JC's crew in prior attempts to get it dislodged, it still showed active; blinking and occasionally chirping, notifying everyone that it was unhappy that it could not communicate with the other pieces.

                “We're fairly certain this is the brain,” JC explained. “Every time we would manage to deactivate a device, it would start transmitting like crazy, apparently attempting to reestablish contact. When it could not, we noticed some of the other devices started acting strange – possibly trying to compensate for the lack of the missing unit.”

                The Romulan scientists pondered this for a moment, one of them turning to JC. “That may have also been a defensive mechanism. Had you still had your warp core, who knows what might have happened.”

                JC nodded. Another scientist began to inspect the device closer for a moment before looking up to JC. “What evidence do you have that these devices are Borg?” he asked. “From the outside, they look Starfleet.”

                “On the inside of the plasma injector devices there were nano-robotic systems,” JC started.

                “They injected nanobots into your plasma flow?” one scientist asked, rather stunned.

                JC nodded. “I assume it was to help regulate the flow and do whatever it is that the Borg do to generate trans-warp conduits. The self-contained power systems in all the devices are also of Borg design and have matching Bord signatures. As well, there is this.”

                JC turned to the security officer standing watch over them. “May I?”

                The security officer nodded and handed JC his phaser. As JC took aim at the device, sending the scientists into a quick and clumsy backpedal, the security guard hit his communicator. “Davis to Security – Yeah, Devall is doing that demonstration again, no need for a response.”

                JC turned the phaser up to kill before firing at the device attached to the only remaining piece of the Sisko. The beam slammed into the device, causing pieces to fly in multiple directions. Two of the scientists had to duck to avoid being hit. The third just looked at the blackened device before screaming.

                “ARE YOU INSANE?!”

                Devall just pointed, waving the phaser nonchalantly at the device. The scientists could do nothing but stare with their mouths hanging open as the device began to regenerate itself. It took the small metal box a few minutes, but once it was done, it was nearly as good as new, with only a few scratches and dents.

                “Nothing we can build can do that,” JC finally said. “And unless I am mistaken...” he looked to the Romulans as he continued, “...no one else has this kind of technology either.”

                The Romulans shook their heads. “No, we don’t, Lieutenant. I can assure you of that.”

                JC smiled. “Well let’s say we see where this thing came from then, eh?”

                The Romulans agreed and the four went to work on the floor of Salvation’s engine room dissecting the device that had tried to kill the Sisko crew. Usagi quietly monitored from behind the security officers while snacking on some candy.

-----

                Kio stopped dead in her tracks. She knew when she was being followed and right now, she was being followed. Her hand slowly moved towards her right hip, her type-two in its holster, ready if she needed it. Kio wondered if maybe not all the Romulans had left the ship like they were supposed to. Maybe some of them had stayed behind to 'keep an eye' on the Starfleet crew.

                Kio slowly kept walking. She knew if her stalker attacked, she would be ready for him. She was reaching a T intersection in the corridor. All she had to do was turn, hide, and wait. Once he came around the corner, she would pounce and detain him.

                Kio smirked. Perhaps he would resist just a little too much and she would have to fatally injure him in the struggle.

                While there certainly was not a level of overt racism and blatant hostility among the crew, most of them had spent a good portion of their careers knowing the Romulans as the main threat to the Federation. Because of that, many of them still did not trust them fully.

                As they shouldn't. The Romulans were known for espionage. The Tal Shiar was more feared than Section 31, and unlike Section 31, had no problem letting everyone know they existed. Usually in brutally obvious ways.

                Kio quickly reached the T and turned right. Once around the corner, she ducked into a doorway and drew her phaser. She then held and waited, holding her phaser down.

                Before she could scream though, a hand went over her mouth while another grabbed the hand her phaser was in, prying her finger off the trigger.

                “You can't just focus on one enemy,” Anthony whispered into her ear from behind her. “You always have to be ready for anything that could happen.”

                Kio groaned and nodded as Sgt. Simpson walked around the corner with his phaser drawn. “Pew pew,” he smiled.

                Sgt. Anthony Schaefer leaned into his supervisor, putting his lips right up next to her ear, and whispered even more quietly, “I think you wanted me to catch you.”

                Mike sighed, the realization that Anthony was likely flirting with Kio setting in. He began to walk towards NEO's temporary workplace, Anthony looking after him.

                “You see what you did?” Anthony asked Kio. Kio rolled her eyes. Anthony quickly ripped his hand away from Kio's mouth and started to squeal like he was a ten-year-old girl who had just gotten a frog dropped down her dress. “Did you just lick my hand?!?”

                Kio laughed before bouncing off after Mike. Anthony furiously tried to wipe Kio's saliva off his hand prior to attempting to catch up. The three of them made it about two-thirds of the way to their office when they ran into Rei and NEO's second in command, Commander Shelton. The trio snapped to attention for the pair of officers who acknowledged them but continued on their way.

                Anthony and Mike resumed walking to the office, but Kio looked after Rei and Shelton as they walked and talked.

                “Chief?” Mike called.

                Kio paused a moment, then caught up with her two teammates. “Something wrong, Kio?” Anthony asked.

                Kio shook her head. “No. It's just not like her not to take a chance to offer some advice or yell at me.”

                “Well...” Mike offered. “She's been yelling at you for almost three months straight. Maybe she thinks you don't need to be yelled at anymore?”

                Kio scoffed. “I doubt that.”

                Anthony smiled. “You know she thinks you're great. Otherwise, she would have let you quit when you tried.”

                Kio did not answer. She knew he was right, and she knew that Rei's constant bitching about her performance was not because she did not like the job she was doing, it was because Rei wanted Kio to like the job she was doing.

                Maybe that was it. Maybe, and Kio herself had not even realized it, but just perhaps, Kio had acknowledged that she was fit for this job. That may have in fact silenced the ever-squawking crow that nagged Kio relentlessly.

                At the same time though, Kio was fairly sure that Rei didn't like her personally. That was fine though. The feeling was mutual.

                The trio reached the temporary NEO briefing room and sat down around a circular, metal table together after ordering drinks for themselves. Each of them put their feet up on the table, their black boots making a loud noise as they leaned back in the less than comfortable Romulan chairs.

                Mike was the first to speak as he adjusted his black and gray Starfleet uniform. “So, what do you think they will have us do?”

                “Considering the ship we're in,” Anthony grinned, “we might end up having to help repel Starfleet boarders.”

                Kio and Mike laughed. “Can you imagine? Starfleet shooting at Starfleet?” Mike asked. “I can't imagine I'd live to see the day.”

                Kio smirked. “We have Starfleet shooting at Vulcans and vice versa, so I guess anything is possible anymore.”

                Both Anthony and Mike cringed at the thought of shooting at other Starfleet officers. Neither of them had any interest in doing so, but as the Admiral had said earlier, if they were ordered to do it, they would, as they had faith that it would be for the right reasons and for the greater good of the Federation.

                “How much schoolwork did you get done on the trip back, if you don't mind me asking, Chief?” Mike asked Kio.

                “One class left,” Kio beamed. “One more class and then you can take your 'Chief' and shove it out an airlock.”

                Mike smiled as Anthony laughed. “Second-Lieutenant Yuki,” Mike said. “I don’t like it. Too many syllables.”

                Kio playfully swatted at Mike. The group continued to chat and laugh for a while till their daily exercise time came.

-----

                “I see,” Larson frowned. “Well thank you very much for the update.”

                “We shouldn't contact you again,” a prissy female's voice said through quite a bit of static. “Even with this low of power, you're now in danger of being located.”

                Larson shook his head. “We're cloaked, and the Romulan armada is still with us.” Larson paused for a moment. “Well, I assume they are. Anyway, it’s okay. Thank you for the information.”

                “Are you going to recover him?”

                “I have no choice,” Larson replied. “I think he was framed, and I think he may have information that can help us.”

                “Very well. I will send you information about where he's being held. I'm sorry, but that is all the help I can be. We only have a half dozen agents on board. Everyone else is Starfleet.”

                “Yes,” Larson acknowledged. “Putting Starfleet on Vulcan right now would be quite a disaster. Don't worry. I will handle things.”

                “Good luck, SL.”

                “Thank you, Director,” Larson stated before ending the transmission. He watched the screen a little bit longer as information began to appear. He grimaced a little bit.

                “Ranma,” Larson called.

                Ranma turned from his chair in the middle of the bridge towards Larson who was seated at the Communications terminal that he had commandeered from Lt. Kaii. Larson motioned for Ranma to come over to the terminal. Shampoo noticed this and sauntered over that way as well. Larson did not object to the self-invite, which was a pleasant surprise for Shampoo.

                Larson pointed to a building on the view screen. “Do you remember Saanik?” he asked.

                “Wasn't he the only Vulcan who didn't want me dead?” Ranma pondered, remembering back to his court-martial.

                Larson half smiled and nodded. “Sort of, yeah. He was the Vulcan Minister of Defense.”

                “Was?” Ranma asked.

                “Yes. While you were away, a group of Vulcan’s defensive ground forces launched an assault on a Starfleet LDF base killing about 100,000 Federation troops.”

                Shampoo gasped. Ranma blinked. “Saanik?”

                Larson shrugged. “His fingerprints were all over the attack. Literally and figuratively.” Larson ran his hand through his goatee slowly before shaking his head. “I don't think he did it though.”

                “Oh?” both Ranma and Shampoo asked.

                “Saanik's been a Federation ally for years. He's been responsible for placing more and more of Vulcan's planetary security into Federation responsibility. And he's certainly smart enough not to leave a paper trail. Now to top it off, he's going to be executed in a little under a week.”

                Shampoo nodded. “Even Vulcan execute traitors.” She turned to Larson. “So, what do we do?”

                Larson again pointed to the building on the screen. “Jailbreak.”

                “Jailbreak?” Ranma asked. “Should be easy enough.”

                Larson looked at Ranma angrily. “They have declared Saanik the worst traitor to Vulcan since Sybok. Do you think they would keep him in a jail that would be easy to bust him out of?”

                Ranma lowered his head. “No sir.”

                Shampoo chuckled a little. “It gets more complicated,” Larson continued.

                “I knew you were going to say that,” Ranma sighed. “You ALWAYS say that.”

                “It true. You do,” Shampoo backed up her captain.

                Larson sighed. “Well, it does.”

                Ranma nodded.

                “Covert only. No conventional forces.”

                Ranma sighed. “Eh, that's not so bad.”

                Shampoo nodded. “NEO guys really good now. They have lots of fights outnumbered, do great.”

                Larson smiled. “Great. Well then, I will get to work on figuring something out with Commander Hino and-”

                The aft turbolift opened and JC burst out, out of breath, his face singed, uniform half burnt off him, waving a PADD around like it was the checkered flag at a championship Runabout race.

                “I FOUND IT!” he screamed.

                “WHAT?” Ranma, Larson, and Shampoo all yelled.

                JC slowly stumbled his way over to the group. Ranma looked at him cautiously. “Do you need medical?”

                “Probably,” JC nodded as he began his presentation. “We were finally able to get inside of the brain-box...”

                “Brain-box?” Larson asked.

                “The controlling Borg device on the Sisko engines,” JC grumbled, not happy with being interrupted or wanting to have to explain the story again. Larson took the hint and sat through the rest of the presentation quietly. “Anyway, it was difficult because the fucking thing kept regenerating every time we managed to pop once side of it open before we could pop the other side.”

                JC looked annoyingly at the medics who had arrived to tend to his wounds, but decided it was likely in his best interests to allow them to work on him. “Finally, we decided to say 'fuck it' and we used an ionic sound distortion wave to cut through it, with the assistance of some specially placed charges.

                “That managed to blow it in half. And with its two halves separated, it couldn't regenerate!” JC smiled. He turned to a medic who was doing something to his arm. “That hurts.”

                “I'll bet,” The medic said. “Your forearm is shattered.”

                JC blinked. “Carry on then.”

                Shampoo watched the medics as Larson and Ranma questioned JC. “So, what did you find?” Larson asked.

                “Federation circuit boards, likely installed to allow the device to interface with the Sisko's computer core.”

                “Traceable?” Ranma asked.

                JC smiled and using his arm that was not being worked on by the Salvation's medical staff, handed Ranma a PADD which was quickly snatched up by Larson. “Serial numbers,” JC stated. “As well the transmission equipment was Vulcan in origin. Serial numbers for that are there as well.”

                Larson stood and over the objections of the medical staff, gave JC a great big bear hug. “Great job, Lieutenant.”

                “Oh, the pain,” JC cried.

                Larson let JC go and began to walk to the aft turbolift. “Captain, once the remaining Romulans and your father have left the ship, set a course for Vulcan, best speed.”

                “My father?” Ranma asked as JC dropped to the floor, a concerned Shampoo shifting her gaze between the concerned paramedics and the concerned son looking at Larson.

                “He'll be back, Ranma,” Larson smiled. “I just need him to go run an errand for me.”

                Ranma nodded. “Aye sir.”

                “CODE BLUE!” One of the paramedics yelled into his communicator.

                “You really shouldn't have contacted us again, especially from the same place,” the earlier female growled at Larson over the heavily encrypted subspace communicator. Larson shook his head, even though the communication was audio only and the person on the other end could not see him.

                “I know, I know. However, this couldn't wait.”

                “Oh?” a male asked.

                “We have serial numbers from the components inside the devices.”

                “We don't have access to a Borg database,” The unknown male snarled. “You know that.”

                “They aren't Borg,” Larson snapped back as he heard Genma walk into the room. “Some are Federation in origin, some are Vulcan.”

                There was silence for a moment before the female spoke. “Send them. We'll see what we can find for you and contact you back.”

                “Sending now. We're heading for the jailbird in about ten minutes. It'll be about a day or so travel cloaked though.”

                “We have the Minneapolis in orbit, monitoring. We'll keep you informed.”

                “Thanks,” Larson said, ending the transmission. Genma, who had been standing in the corner, as far away from Larson and the conversation that he did not want to accidentally hear as he could, walked over.

                “You're sending me somewhere?”

                Larson nodded as he handed Genma a PADD. Genma looked it over and grew a very confused look on his face. “You have to be kidding me.”

                “I am not. She's having her cloak installed now. She should be able to traverse the wormhole cloaked, but obviously the Romulans will have to act as the wormhole openers.”

                Genma sighed. More time, alone, with the Romulans. He'd started to get used to them and gotten to know them; however, he can't really say that he wasn't looking forward to seeing his son.

                “Alrighty,” Genma finally conceded. “See you in what, three days?”

                “Sounds about right.”

                Genma nodded, turned, and walked towards the door. Larson called after him. “Genma.”

                The bald admiral stopped and turned. “Yes sir?”

                Larson smiled. “I am really happy your son is back, and I promise, once we've gotten through this, I'll let you two get reacquainted.”

                Genma smiled and nodded. He could be happy with that, after all after nearly twelve weeks, that is all he really wanted.

-----

                Ranma was unsure which he disliked more. The horrid Romulan chairs that were in the main conference room, the oval shape of the table, the fact that the windows were forward facing, so it appeared that the stars were heading right at them, or the fact that he had only been asleep for maybe an hour and a half before being woken up by that God-forsaken Romulan intercom system.

                Everything about this ship drove Ranma nuts. He almost felt like after the mission he would purposely ram it into an asteroid simply for good measure.

                The Salvation had been streaming along at warp 6.5 for several hours now. A snail’s pace it seemed for such a powerful starship, but the cloaking device took a decent amount of power to run itself. The fact that the ship cold hold 6.5 was an amazing feat of Romulan engineering.

                They were 27 hours out from Vulcan, 10 away from Federation space. For some reason that Ranma could not quite put his finger on, it was not the forthcoming assault on Vulcan that worried the hell out of him, it was the 17 hours they would be driving through Federation space in an enemy – well, not enemy, but not allied – spaceship, unescorted.

                The final group of officers began to wander into the conference room. Larson, the only one among them who appeared to be awake, moved quickly to the main viewer. Shampoo plopped down next to Ranma. The rest of the group, Minako, Makoto, Rei, and a seemingly repaired JC watched Larson, hoping the point would come quickly.

                “Sorry to wake you all,” Larson apologized. The group mumbled incoherent acceptances. Larson, who himself had not slept in probably 40 hours, was wound up like a rabbit. The news he had gotten back from his unnamed contacts over subspace had just wound him up even more.

                Larson looked to JC to make sure that he understood that he had really made things happen. “I sent the serial numbers from those parts you found off to some of my contacts for tracing.”

                JC woke up completely. “Oh?”

                Larson nodded. “The Federation parts weren't all that helpful. They had been delegated for the Sisko as part of her initial refit and reclassification to the Trinity class. However, the Vulcan parts, after going through several very thorough laundering schemes were found to have been obtained by the Vulcan Ministry of Intelligence.”

                Ranma looked at JC. “Didn't you say that shipyard Commodore was Vulcan?”

                JC nodded. “I bet if we got a hold of him...”

                “He's dead,” Larson interjected.

                Anyone in the room who was not fully awake before was now. Most the heads in the room slowly turned to Larson.

                “His landing thrusters 'malfunctioned' as he was trying to land in San Francisco,” Larson explained.

                “You don't believe that do you?” Makoto asked.

                “No,” Larson stated. “No more than I believe that Vora's transport collision was an accident.”

                “Why kill Vora though?” Minako asked. “That seems like it would scream for a huge investigation.”

                “Vora would block the secession,” Larson explained. “The second-in-command of the High Command, Sala, wasn't totally for it, but he wouldn't – and as expected didn't – block it.” Larson smirked before continuing. “As for the investigation, well everything pointed towards a thruster malfunction that sent a second transport into the path of Vora's.”

                Larson turned to Minako with a smug grin on his face. “Conspiracy theories are not logical and therefor are normally dismissed with little reverence.”

                Larson turned to the device that was projected onto the view screen and crossed his legs as he tented his fingers. “Now that we have evidence that this device came from the MoI, it's imperative that we rescue Saanik. He can likely give us insight on who would be able to get these devices and where they might be.”

                Rei nodded. “I've never broken anyone out of jail before, but we'll be ready, Admiral.”

                Larson nodded. “I know you will be, Commander. I wouldn't trust the fate of the Federation in just anyone's hands.”

                The small flotilla of Federation ships slowed to a crawl outside of the Parnock system. They were technically in unclaimed space, nestled between Federation and Klingon space, but the commander of the task force, Rear Admiral J.T. Neilson, assumed the Vulcans were now planning on making a territorial claim.

                That is your right once you are a sovereign entity.

                Neilson sighed from his seat at the CONN on the bridge of the Nebula class U.S.S. Coronado. The heavy ship was escorted by three Saber class frigates, two Steamrunner class torpedo boats, and two Intrepid class cruisers. Neilson hoped none of them would be necessary.

                J.T.'s plan was to arrive at the first colony, show dominance, transport down his ground forces who would assume control, then move on. All without firing a shot. Regardless of the politics behind what the Vulcans were doing, he knew quite a few of them and did not have any interest in harming them.

                They were good people and good friends in his mind.

                “We're approaching the colony, Admiral,” the helm officer stated.

                Neilson nodded and stood. He took out his PADD with his carefully worded, legalese on it. “Open a channel.”

                The communications system chirped. Neilson cleared his throat. “Vulcan colony of Parnock. This is Admiral J.T. Neilson of the U.S.S. Coronado. This system is found to be in violation of United Federation of Planets resolution 77280G and I, acting under the legal authority of the President of the Federation, am here to reassert Federation control.”

                J.T. paused for a moment, hoping for a reply. When he heard nothing, he continued, a little more directly. “We will be deploying security forces. Please have your civilians stay indoors and away from windows, and have your police and military forces place their weapons on the ground if they do not wish to be-”

                “ADMIRAL!” tactical yelled, activating red alert.

                J.T. looked up from the PADD to see multiple Vulcan warships come from the shadow of the planet. Neilson, finished with the legal bullshit, tossed the PADD onto the deck and retook his seat. “BACK US UP.”

                “Where did they come from?!” The Coronado's XO asked.

                “They must have been using the electron storm as a sensor deflector,” ops replied.

                “They are powering up weapons,” tactical reported.

                “Analysis?”

                “Six D'Kyr crusiers, six Sh'Ran...” tactical trailed off. “It's not going to be easy.”

                “Demand their surrender,” Neilson ordered.

                Twelve blasts of Vulcan phasers told the Coronado exactly what the Vulcans thought of the Starfleet offer. “Offensive pattern echo-five!” Neilson ordered, the straightforward dominate tone in his voice now replaced by a more upset, defensive one.

                The Nebula class ship continued to back off slowly as the smaller, more nimble ships began to strafe the large Vulcan cruisers. It was an effective tactic at first. The Vulcan ships had no chance of hitting the fast moving, mosquito like targets, all the while the Starfleet battleship unloaded volley after volley of quantum torpedoes.

                But of course, these are Vulcans Neilson was dealing with and logic prevailed. They soon began to ignore the smaller ships and focused all their fire on the Coronado, assuming that once they took out the capital ship, the remaining ships would either leave, or be useless.

                “SHEILDS AT 30 PERCENT AND FAILING!” engineering screamed.

                “We need to get out of here,” Neilson acknowledged. “Full retreat, any direction. All ships.”

                The order was quickly passed on to the other ships. The smaller escorts made a couple of quick passes, in an attempt to ensure their Admiral is able to escape, before warping off themselves.

                Once the Coronado was out of the fight and warping into an unknown direction, Neilson turned to engineering. “Damage?”

                “Bad,” the chief engineer said. “I don't even know how we got into warp.”

                “Sheer grace of God,” the bloodied XO stated as medics began to look him over.

                “The Vulcan ships are not pursuing,” someone managed to gasp in relief.

                “Good,” Neilson sighed. “Change course for Starbase 8-0-2. Have the rest of the fleet meet us there.”

                Tactical bit her lip. “Admiral... I don't know what happened, but apparently the Koyomi did not make it out... She's gone.”

                Neilson stood despite the objection of a medic examining him. “WHAT?”

                “I have the New Salem for you.”

                Neilson nodded and slowly sat back down. The U.S.S. New Salem’s captain, Chiro Abraham, shook his head. “Sir, they must have gotten off a lucky shot or something and nailed her warp engines because she was right with me. Right after we saw you go, we were going. Then… It was just me…”

                Neilson slammed his fist into his arm rest. “Alright. There is nothing we can do about it now. Just meet up at 8-0-2. We’ll figure out what we’re doing from there.”

                Abraham nodded and closed the channel. Neilson sat in his chair, grumbling to himself, as he watched the stars streak by on the main viewer. He was barely able to survive the assault with the fleet he had before. Now there was no way he would be able to do it lacking one of his Intrepid class ships.

                He had no choice. He was going to have to call and ask for a bigger task force. This, he of course realized, meant that there would be a lot more blood spilled, and it wouldn’t just be the blood of the military.

-----

                Starfleet Command's new building really wasn't too different from their old building. It was on San Francisco Bay, and it was really, really, really, big. So big in fact that if you wanted to be on time, you essentially had to transport everywhere.

                If it weren’t for the fact that food was so nutritionally balanced, it would stand to believe that everyone in the 24th century would be very obese. That is unless you transported the fat off.

                Regardless, Starfleet Chief of Staff Fleet Admiral Kevin James was in a hurry and did not really care that much about his weight at his age. He quickly showed a transporter operator his ID badge and asked to be transported to “Area Zero”, a dark area, used only in wartime.

                James materialized in front of a group of waiting lower ranked admirals and generals from the LDF. Most of the admirals wore black, Starfleet Intelligence collars – causing James a little concern. He hated it when people were around that knew more than him, and likely would only tell him what they thought he needed to know.

                “Admiral,” the highest ranking one acknowledged. James haphazardly saluted him, and the group all walked to a large, lighted table where they took their seats.

                “So, what happened?” James asked.

                “There was apparently a Vulcan ambush,” an admiral in red replied.

                “You said there were no ships there,” another red suited Admiral grumbled, turning to one of the SI admirals.

                “There weren't,” he barked back.

                “There sure as hell was!” a fourth, the admiral in charge of the fleet that contained the Coronado and her squadron. “I lost a ship, and the Coronado was seriously damaged.”

                “We monitored that system till a day before the assault,” the SI admiral continued to grumbled. “They moved those assets in between the time we left and the time your ships arrived.”

                “Vulcan ships cannot move that fast,” the fourth argued.

                “Then they were on the way,” SI snapped. “They knew you were coming.”

                “How's that?” James asked.

                The SI admiral shrugged.

                “Are you actually Starfleet INTELLIGENCE?” the first admiral asked.

                The SI admiral ignored him. James, wanting to avoid a civil war in the war room, changed the subject. “Regardless of what happened, things have changed. The president is furious, as is the Assembly and the Council.”

                The second admiral laughed. “You mean the suits are actually going to do something?”

                James nodded. “Indeed. Operation Reclamation.” James put the operation on the overhead viewer for all to see. “First, we need every single starship, whether on assignment or not, whether warship or not, to return to a rally point, ASAP.”

                The second admiral nodded. “I can get to work on that.”

                “Good. Second-” James turned to one of the LDF generals. “How many ground forces do you have available?”

                The green suited General thought about it for a moment, before turning to James. “If you count the forces we have protecting Earth, probably about two million.”

                “Excellent. Between the LDF, the Marines and Ship based security forces, we should have no issues,” James stated.

                “Issues?” one asked.

                “Reclaiming Vulcan.”

                “Isn't using EVERY ship and EVERY soldier for that over kill?” The SI admiral asked.

                “You'll forgive me if I don't trust your assessment on their current military status,” James grumbled.

                “As you shouldn't. He's wrong,” a man from the darkness stated. The entire room turned as a man and a woman stepped out of the shadows, both were dressed in civilian clothes, with long trench coats. The man had dark red hair and a mustache, his hair, shoulder length pulled back into a ponytail. Underneath his coat he appeared to be wearing a casual suit.

                The woman had dark hair that went down to the small of her back and hung loose. Underneath her coat she was wearing a loose skirt that cut off above her knees and a white hooded sweatshirt.

                Several of the admirals reached for either their phasers or their communicators to call for security, but both James and the SI admiral waved them off.

                “Uh-yeah,” SI mumbled. “Meet Section 31.”

                The admirals looked at the pair rather worriedly until one of them finally asked; “Those two?”

                The male laughed. “No. Not just us two. You can call me JC, and this is my associate, NK.” This JC is, of course, not to be confused with our JC, who is safe in his bed aboard the Salvation, dreaming of some perverted anime, I am certain. However, if you have read Moon Trek 2 – Section 31, then you will be familiar with this JC! Now, back to the story, already in progress.

                NK flashed a fake smile at the group before speaking. “The Vulcans aren't anywhere near the levels of the 2100's when it comes to fleet capacity, but they have well exceeded the ship numbers they had just two years ago.”

                James shook his head. “Where are they building these ships?”

                “We don't know,” JC admitted.

                “So how many ships are we looking at if we assault Vulcan?” SI asked.

                “Assaulting Vulcan is a mistake,” NK stated.

                “Are their defenses that strong?” James gasped.

                “It's got nothing to do with their defenses,” NK replied. “Starfleet cannot 'reclaim' Vulcan. Vulcan must come back to the Federation on its own. Using force will simply drive Vulcan further away and an occupation will most certainly destroy any kind of alliance between our worlds.”

                “The status quo will eventually return,” One of the admirals argued. “Once the majority of the population realizes that the reclamation-”

                “You don't understand,” JC interrupted. “The majority of the population right now doesn't agree with the secession. However, if Starfleet and the Federation occupy Vulcan, they will begin to believe the lies and propaganda they are being fed from those who have caused this mess.”

                NK moved to the table and pointed at the Vulcan colony that was unsuccessfully assaulted. “Nihan,” referring to the SI admiral, “was right about one thing. The colony was essentially undefended prior to the plans being made to assault it. However, once the Federation task force was in route, we intercepted a communication from the Vulcan Ministry of Intelligence to the Ministry of Defense warning them, and then another, we assume, dispatching the ships.”

                JC walked up as well. “The encryption was heavy, and we were only able to actually figure out what the message said after the assault, otherwise we would have contacted SI in hopes of aborting the attack and saving the Starfleet ships.”

                “Why did you detect this, and we didn't?” James barked.

                NK smirked. “Because you don't have ships orbiting Vulcan and we do.”

                JC shook his head at NK and moved closer to James. “Admiral, I've done a lot of things over the years to try and help keep the Federation in one piece but none, I believe, has ever been more important than this. Do not order the assault on Vulcan. Regardless of who is the victor of the battle, any chance of a Vulcan-Federation cooperative relationship will be gone. Forever.”

                James sighed. “I don't have much choice,” he pointed at his directive from the Federation Assembly.

                “How long did they give you?” JC asked.

                “Seven days.”

                “Please use all of that time.”

                James leaned back and sighed. “What exactly can you do in seven days?”

                JC laughed and shook his head. “I can't do anything.” He pointed at himself and then at NK. “Neither of us can do squat. But much like your fleet operates in many different parts with many different cogs, so does ours.”

                NK looked to a screen that showed ship positions throughout Federation space. “Please make sure that you do execute everything as if your assault will be necessary in seven days. We cannot have them suspecting that we are on to them. As well, do not mention our discussions to anyone outside of this room.”

                NK turned back to the admirals and generals. “There would have to be... Repercussions.”

                The group all nodded in understanding. Not a single one of them needed to have the Section 31 definition of 'repercussions' clarified. However, James did want to get some more information about what 31 knew. He realized the dangers in knowing too much, but he also hated the concept of knowing too little.

                “Who is 'they'?”

                JC shrugged. “They are the Vulcan and Federation co-conspirators who have put into play the series of events that have led us to the brink of war.”

                “Federation?” one of the admirals scoffed. “That's nuts. Why would anyone in the Federation want to force Vulcan out, then allow us to go to war with them just to pull them back in?”

                “If you want proof of Federation involvement, look no further than the most recent incident,” NK replied. “The Vulcan ships not only had to be at the colony BEFORE the task force arrived, but they had to make sure they brought enough ships to handle the size and compliment of our ships.

                “They couldn't have gotten there by the time they saw them on long range and the Klingons reported no Vulcan ships using their space. So obviously the ships were able to make a longer trip through unclaimed space, running silently.”

                JC nodded. “There is also the incident with the Sisko's recovery ships being ambushed. At the time we thought it might have just been a coincidence, but now we believe someone informed their contact on Vulcan that they were off to recover the Sisko.”

                “So, you think the Sisko was part of this too?” James asked.

                “We do,” JC nodded. “The head of the Chii shipyard disappeared shortly after the Sisko did, and then ended up dying in that so called ‘landing thruster malfunction’. As well, the Sisko incident coincided with the beginning of these events.” JC pulled out a cigarette from his coat and lit it. He took a deep drag and exhaled, annoying the others in the room, including his partner. “I'm not a believer in coincidence, Admiral. Everything happens because someone made it happen and there is a reason behind it.”

                “I suppose,” James sighed. “I just wish we could get those guys back. We sure could use the Sisko and that special operations team of his right now.”

                “Mmhm,” JC smoked.

-----

                Captain's log; Stardate 61217.3. We have, surprisingly, made it through Federation space without hitting a single tachyon mine or any kind of goofy spatial anomaly that would otherwise cause us to lose our cloak and end up being blown out of the sky by our own people.

                Though I don't know if that would really happen. Admiral Larson told me that he's seeing Federation ships from every sector heading towards Earth. The last time I saw that there was a Borg cube on its way.

                The fleet was decimated.

                Ranma was a little reluctant to think about the battle of Wolf 3-5-9. He was a lieutenant in security on one of the ships that was destroyed. It was one of the closest calls to death he had ever actually had to face, boarding a lifeboat only a few seconds before the warp core breached and the ship exploded.

                He had lost his captain in that battle. Captain Walker being the only other one he's lost since. He hoped that he would not have to put his crew through the pain of losing their captain, and not just for the obvious, self-serving reasons either.

                Larson is working on trying to figure out what is going on. Ranma continued with the log. Until then we can just monitor and hope that it is nothing that will force us to adjust our plans to heavily.

                For now, we have arrived in the Vulcan system. Once the NEO teams are ready, we will insert them at the prison, collect the H-V-T, and beam out. Bless the Romulans for having a transporter system that works while cloaked.

                Ranma ended the log and looked to his clock. 07:19. Seemed like morning time to him, but he realized that what time it was in San Francisco wasn't what time it was at a Vulcan jail.

                The captain stood and walked out of his temporary office and onto the bridge of the Salvation. “What's the status in orbit? How likely are we to get detected?”

                Minako shook her head. “I'm not seeing any tachyon mines or a net and if we hold a high orbit, say 1000 kilometers, we should be safe from collisions.”

                Ranma turned to the ship’s new helmsman, Ensign Ikuhara. “Ensign, you heard the lady. Plot us over the coordinates, 1,000-kilometer geosynchronous orbit.”

                “Yes sir,” the young officer complied. Ranma felt almost disappointed when the ship did not lurch, slam to a stop, or otherwise 'Ryouga' and instead smoothly coasted to where it was supposed to.

                Ranma chuckled to himself at the thought, then returned his focus on the task at hand. “Put the prison on screen.”

                The area of the planet where the jail was appeared on the main viewer. Ranma was happy to see that indeed the prison was on the dark side of the day/night terminator. However, that was the only thing about it that made him happy.

                “Magnify,” Ranma ordered.

                Minako complied and magnified the image. “That place is fucking huge.” Makoto said, reading everyone's mind.

                Ranma tapped his communicator. He was certain that the blueprints they were given did not match what he was seeing on the screen. “Saotome to Hino. Can you come up here?”

                “On my way,” Rei replied. A few moments passed before Rei popped out of the turbolift. She was dressed in the NEO black assault suit, her face also covered in black camouflage paint. She looked at the main viewer.

                “What's that?” she asked.

                “Your target.”

                Rei looked at Ranma with a look that spoke more than she needed to. Rei quickly pulled a PADD out of her vest and began to look at it as Larson came onto the bridge.

                “What's the hold up?” Larson asked.

                “The hold up, sir,” Rei snapped, refusing to restrain the irritation that she felt, “is that we've been running simulations and planning for a prison that doesn't exist.”

                Rei pointed at the Vulcan prison.

                Larson looked at Rei for a moment. He did not even bother looking at the screen. “And?”

                Rei blinked.

                Ranma also blinked.

                “What the hell do you expect me to do about it?” Larson asked. “I'm sorry I don't have a library full of complete and up to date blueprints of Vulcan prisons. And I am also sorry that the Interior Ministry didn't keep us in the loop when they renovated this jail.”

                Rei sighed.

                “Deal with it,” Larson said, quite bluntly. “And if this is the worst thing that happens today, then I think you've had a pretty good day.”

                “Yes sir,” Rei said, tossing her useless PADD to the nearest officer – which happened to be Makoto – and headed back into the turbolift.

                Larson turned to Ranma. “Do you have an issue as well?”

                Ranma knew when it was time to pick fights and when it was not, and this was certainly a time not to. He shook his head no and turned to watch the prison on the main viewer as Larson hijacked Ranma's office.

                Rei was still pouting when she returned to transporter room one. It was not necessarily because Larson had scolded her (even though that had something to do with it), but more because he was right.

                She had realized that her quick reaction force had become too dependent on running simulations and doing things one way for one scenario and one way for another. They needed to make sure that they had the ability to be able to adapt. That was something she was certainly going to work on with them once they got back.

                But first she needed to make sure they got back.

                “Okay everyone, slight change,” Rei said to the group. All four NEO teams were suited up in the transporter room. Rei rubbed her temples, a headache starting to form. “First off, your maps are likely useless as the building appears to be fully renovated.”

                “That sucks,” Kio grumbled.

                “Chief?” Rei looked at her, ready to belt out a Larsonesque speech of her own on her underling.

                “Just saying 'that sucks', Commander,” Kio admitted. “But we'll deal with it.”

                Rei eyed Kio for a moment. She really hated to admit it, but Kio reminded her a lot of herself in her younger days.

                The senior officer nodded. “Yeah, we'll all have to deal with it. It's a lot bigger too, but it's likely a safe guess that the prisoners who are scheduled to be executed will be kept in the most secure areas – which are of course, the inner areas.”

                The leader of Delta team, Lt. George Carson, pointed to small tripods each of his team had attached to their backs.

                “We'll beam down first and set up these phased transport inhibitors about 200 kilometers around the perimeter. This will keep them being able to beam reinforcements in, while still allowing us to beam in and out, using our enhancers.”

                Rei nodded and looked at her PADD. “Okay, we have three hours of darkness left. Obviously, it's a jail, so while the prisoners are likely asleep, the guards are not, and they will surely lock the place down tight once it's breached.” Rei picked up her rifle as Delta team got onto the transport pad. “Delta, once you've got the inhibitors down, move inward and find us a good door to use.”

                Lt. Carson nodded. Soon thereafter he, Lt. Troy Beckham, and the teams two snipers Ensign Aileen Nelson and Private Jessica Shelby had been disassembled by the Romulan transporters.

                Rei looked to the rest of the group. “Time to wait for the invitation now.”

                “You know what, if anything, will probably kill us?” Nelson whispered as the group slowly moved through the desert brush towards the first marker.

                “What's that?” Carson asked.

                “Scorpions,” Nelson responded. “Vulcan has some of the deadliest scorpions in the quadrant.”

                “Glad I didn't wear my sandals,” Shelby smirked.

                The group shared a quiet laugh as they set up the first transport inhibitor.

                “I don't see any life signs within a hundred clicks of here,” Beckham reported. “They likely don't patrol this far out, so it's unlikely they will find this.”

                Carson nodded. “Let's go ahead and toss some brush on it, just in case.”

                Beckham nodded quickly and picked up some dead desert plants. As he did, a snake, that was hiding underneath hissed at him, then snapped at him, narrowly missing his arm, before slithering off quickly in the opposite direction.

                “Nice,” Carson chuckled.

                “You laugh,” Beckham growled as he dumped the plants on the inhibitor, “but that little bastard probably would have put me flat on my back.”

                The group quickly called for a transport to their next location and repeated the task, this time mindful of snakes and spiders and other desert animal life. After about fifteen minutes, all inhibitors were in place and the Vulcans were now unable to transport in or out of the prison.

                “It's time for the ladies to do their thing,” Carson smiled as he ducked behind some bushes.

                Both Nelson and Shelby looked around with their infrared binoculars. They both quickly ascertained what was going to be the order in which they would need to take down what guards to get the assault teams inside.

                “If we come in from this angle.” Nelson said, pointing towards a door that was guarded by three security officers. “We only have to deal with a single guard tower.”

                Shelby nodded. “Don't forget the cameras too.”

                “You go high, I go low?”

                “Sounds good.”

                The two women pulled out their sniper rifles, positioned themselves on the ground, and like methodical machines began to fire. The rifles themselves barely made a sound, each gun designed to dampen the sonic boom of the projectile; to reduce the recoil and allow the next round to enter the chamber quickly and efficiently.

                One by one the bullets ripped through their targets. Simultaneously, a small 5mm hole in the glass of the tower appeared and one of the guards stationed there dropped to the floor. Meanwhile, one of the guards by the door the NEO team planned on using flipped over backwards, dying before he could hit the ground. Seconds later, a second hole in the glass and the second guard in the tower was down. Another guard by the door also shot dead. The third guard, began to come out of the state of shock he was in, starts to grab his communicator.

                The communicator explodes into a million pieces as Shelby changes her targeting. The guard turns to run but is hit in the back of the head by Nelson. Few seconds later, both cameras that can see the entrance shatter.

                “The invitation is open,” Carson relays to Rei on board the Salvation after verifying there were no other guards nearby.

                The rest of the NEO teams beam in and move towards the doorway. The NEO’s explosives team begins to rig the door, but Kio wave them off and pulls the keycard from one of the dead Vulcan guards.

                She slides the card across a panel. It beeps and the door unlocks.

                “No point in bringing too much attention to ourselves, eh?”

                “Good thinking, Chief,” Rei acknowledges, grabbing a keycard from another dead guard. “Remember, our only objective is to obtain the H-V-T.”

                Kio nods and takes her team left, while Rei and her team go right.

                It took all of five minutes for the NEO teams to be discovered by the Vulcan guards. Rei's team was discovered first and was engaged in a heavy firefight near what appeared to be a cafeteria.

                “You know, Commander,” Shelton called to Rei between shots, “our projectile ammo would go right through those tables they are using as shields.”

                Rei groaned. “I know. But our goal is not to kill everyone. The Vulcans are not our enemy.”

                “Do they know that?” Parker asked.

                Rei tossed a stun grenade at the ever-growing group of Vulcan guards, knocking several of them out. “On the bright side, if they are down here fighting us, hopefully Bravo team is moving freely and can get to the H-V-T.”

                Kio and her team were in fact moving through the corridors unmolested. However, the alert sound let them know that the Vulcan security forces did indeed know that they were there.

                They also found massive frustration in the fact that they had no clue where they were going, as the new jail layout was nothing like the old layout. As well, there was not a single 'you are here' sign or map to be found.

                “Hey.”

                Yuki and company stopped and turned to a cell where a rather irate Vulcan prisoner was standing. He looked to the group. “What's all the commotion about? I'm trying to sleep.”

                “It's nothing. Go back to sleep,” Yuki ordered.

                The Vulcan looked Yuki and the others over. “You don't look like a Vulcan. Are you supposed to be here?”

                “I don't have to answer questions from a felon,” Yuki snapped.

                The Vulcan laughed. “I like you. Help me escape.”

                Yuki blinked. “Escape?”

                “Yeah,” the Vulcan nodded. “I can totally make it worth your while.”

                “Can you tell me where the death penalty prisoners are kept?”

                “Yeah,” he again nodded.

                Yuki pulled out her key and deactivated the force-field. “Okay where?”

                “I'll show you.”

                Yuki pointed her gun at the Vulcan. “No, tell me. Then I'll let you go.”

                The Vulcan, not a big fan of having a gun barrel a half meter from his nose, capitulated. “Okay, no problem. Second level, Gamma block. There's only like two or three people there though.”

                Yuki nodded. “Okay, thanks.” She lowered her gun, allowing the Vulcan to walk past her. Once he was about a meter away though, she shot him in the back.

                “Oh, not cool!” he groaned as he dropped to the deck. Mike and Anthony quickly drug the Vulcan back into his cell and Kio reactivated the force-field.

                “I thought you were actually going to let him go there for a minute,” Anthony grinned.

                “I thought about it,” Kio smiled as they started walking. “I assume he's in jail for having emotions, but you never know. He might be in jail for having emotions and killing seventy people as well.”

                The group walked to a turbolift and accessed it, taking it up one level. Once there, they noticed that the place was much darker. The cells were not contained by force-fields, but by actual doors.

                And there was security there to greet them.

                The security guards were apparently surprised to see a second group of interlopers and were quickly dispatched by Yuki and her group. Corporal Xiang, Bravo's explosives expert looked at the writing on one of the doors and shook his head.

                “Chief, I think we are in the right area. My Vulcan is a little rusty, but I am fairly sure that says 'maximum security wing'.”

                Kio nodded and swiped the panel with her card. It buzzed at her. “Shit. This dipshit doesn't have access.”

                “Maybe one of these guys do?” Mike pondered, grabbing a security card off one of the stunned guards they had just fought. Mike quickly handed it to Kio, who swiped it. Again, the door buzzed.

                “Dammit!” Kio hissed.

                “Well...” Xiang smiled. “I am fairly certain my card has access.”

                Kio grinned and had the group take up defensive positions around Xiang as he slathered the locking mechanism with plastic explosives.

                “Alpha to Bravo. SitRep?” Rei called over the radio.

                “We think we have found where the H-V-T is being held. We're about to... obtain access... momentarily,” Kio replied.

                “How has the resistance been?”

                “Well, so far, light,” Kio bit her finger lightly. “But we're about to make a fuck-ton of noise, so that might change.”

                Rei paused for a moment. “Understood. We're dealing with a lot of folks right now, so we can't help you. Salvation is also reporting a lot of transports inbound with likely reinforcements, so we need to hurry.”

                “Roger,” Kio answered, ending the conversation. She turned to Xiang. “Corporal?”

                “Ready.”

                “Pop it.”

                Everyone ducked.

                “Breech.”

                The explosives detonated and the doors lock blew into a million pieces, forcing the door to slide two-thirds of the way open. Yuki looked at it as alarm klaxons began to sound.

                “Good enough.”

                The group squeezed through. Xiang looked at the writing on one of the cell doors. “I can tell you for certain that this Vulcan character is gamma.”

                Yuki smiled. “Okay. Let's start looking!”

                The group quickly began looking in the window of each of the cells. Halfway through their search, however, they got interrupted by a dozen Vulcan guards who came rushing in, guns drawn.

                “HALT!” one yelled. “You're trapped!”

                The NEO team took cover and opened fire.

                “Dammit, we can't search if we're pinned down,” Kio grumbled.

                Anthony nodded. “Then let's unpin ourselves.”

                Mike nodded in agreement. Kio smiled. “Okay.”

                Xiang flung out a stun grenade, causing the forward moving group of Vulcans to scatter. This gave Kio, Mike, and Anthony time to hop up and push forward, doing what they do best, working in the chaos and systematically dropping every Vulcan security guard.

                “We need to speed it up,” Kio acknowledged. “There will be more.”

                “Chief!” Xiang yelled from one of the cells.

                Kio ran over to Xiang. She looked into the window. She then looked to Xiang.

                “That's him,” Xiang said.

                Yuki pulled out her PADD. She pulled up the picture of their H-V-T. She agreed. The man sitting in the back of the cell did indeed look like former Vulcan Defense Minister Saanik.

                “Chief, I think I found the controls to the cells,” Anthony called out from an elevated platform that contained a large control panel. Xiang, the only one who knew anything that even passed as Vulcan, ran over to assist him.

                “Chief... I hear more coming,” Mike called from near the door.

                “Tony...” Kio whimpered.

                Anthony ignored Kio as he and Xiang worked on the panel. Suddenly, the cell door opened. Both Kio and the medic, Yayo, walked in. Kio looked down at the man who looked more like a starving orphan than he did a high-ranking Vulcan ministry official.

                “Defense Minister Saanik?” Kio asked.

                The man just looked up at her. “Who...”

                “Defense Minister Saanik?” Kio again asked.

                The man nodded, but again asked, “Who...”

                “I'm here to help you,” Kio replied. She pulled a transport enhancer out of her pocket and attached it to Saanik. She then hit her communicator. “Bravo to Salvation. I am in possession of the H-V-T. Get us the hell out of here.”

                “Transporting,” the Salvation's transporter operator stated.

                It was just in time too. Bravo team, Saanik included, disappeared just prior to another thirty Vulcan guards moving into the cell block.

                Downstairs, Rei smiled. “Rei to all teams, pop the inhibitors, and let's go.”

                Alpha team vanished a couple of seconds later. After that, the devices that prevented the Vulcans from beaming in exploded and Charlie team beamed back to the Salvation.

                “We had to sedate him,” Akane explained. “He was flipping out.”

                Ranma nodded. He would probably be flipping out to if he were broken out of jail only to end up on what was an enemy ship being run by other enemies.

                “Not to mention that he was seriously dehydrated and malnourished. I don't think he's eaten in a week. I don't know if it was the jail that was starving him or if he was on a hunger strike or what, but I can't be certain he was going to live long enough to be executed.”

                Larson sighed. “I don't want to be 'that guy' but can you revive him so we can talk to him?”

                Akane nodded. “Yeah. But I don't know if you're going to get more than just gibberish out of him.”

                “He knows who both Ranma and I are, Commander,” Larson replied. “Perhaps the familiar faces will calm him down.” Ranma looked to his boss with uncertainty, however he trusted Larson's judgment. He nodded to Akane for her to do as Larson asked.

                Akane pulled out a hypospray and put in the correct medication. She then injected it into Saanik and stood back, fully expecting him to start flailing around, as he did the last time she woke him up.

                “Mmhm?” Saanik mumbled, before opening his eyes.

                “Minister?” Larson asked.

                Saanik's eyes opened wide. He began to scoot up the bio bed quickly away from both Larson and Ranma. A couple of security officers who were standing watch nearby began to move in his direction, but a quick and stern look from Ranma kept them in their place.

                “Minister, it's me, Scott Larson, from Starfleet.”

                “And I... Ranma Saotome,” Ranma added.

                Saanik looked around. “Where am I?” he finally asked.

                “You're on a ship that we had to... borrow.” Larson explained. “I assure you, there are no Romulans on board.”

                “Borrow?” Saanik asked.

                “Yes. The people who are trying to tear apart our alliance – the people who tried to kill you by framing you for that attack on the LDF base, they destroyed the Sisko. So, to stop this, we had to borrow a ship from the Romulans; since they have covert abilities.”

                Saanik slid back down in the bed slightly. “Why not borrow a ship from the Klingons?”

                “They smell terrible,” Ranma groused.

                Akane walked away, laughing. Larson glared at them both before continuing. “I have had dealings with the Romulans before. They owed me favors.”

                The look of disgust on Saanik's face was quite unVulcan. “Favors?! What kind of favor could you possibly done for a Romulan that he would owe you a starship in return?”

                Larson sighed. “Minister, we are wasting time with semantics. You must understand that we rescued you to see if you could help us determine who is behind all of this. Surely you must have some clues.”

                Saanik laid completely down in the bio bed and closed his eyes. “Had I had any clue who was involved in any conspiracy, I would have presented it at my trial, and I would have been acquitted,” Saanik exhaled deeply. “If it is okay, I would prefer to continue my interrogation later.”

                Larson sighed and walked away. Ranma stayed for a moment. “Minister, do you need anything?”

                After a short pause, Saanik replied. “What I need, you cannot get me.”

                “Are you sure?” Ranma asked.

                Saanik did not reply.

                Ranma stayed at Saanik's side for a little while longer, watching him, before returning to his office off the bridge.

                It was about three hours that had passed. Ranma was off duty and he and Akane were enjoying a nice ramen dinner in their quarters. It was one of Shampoo's great-grandmother's recipes and both were pleasantly surprised that the Romulan replicator did not butcher it.

                The horrid Romulan door chime came as a surprise, however. Neither were expecting a guest and usually if Larson wanted to see them, he would make them come to him.

                Ranma got up and walked to the door, unlocking it, and allowing it to open. There he saw Saanik, in what were apparently sickbay issued pajamas and slippers, flanked by two security officers.

                “Minister,” Ranma stated, rather shocked.

                “May I come in?” Saanik asked, his voice stronger than before, but still weak from the days in prison.

                “Yes, of course.”

                Saanik walked in, albeit slowly. His weakened state was obviously frustrating the normally strong and independent man.

                “We'll wait out here, when you're ready to go back, sir,” one of the guards said to Saanik.

                “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Saanik replied as the door closed. He turned to Ranma as Akane helped the older man to a chair. “Your security personnel are quite professional and courteous.”

                “They are the best in Starfleet,” Ranma boasted.

                “May I get you something to drink?” Akane asked.

                “Oh, whatever you are having will be fine,” Saanik smiled.

                Akane nodded and walked off. Saanik turned to Ranma. “She didn't mention she was your wife.”

                Ranma smiled. “It's not something she is proud of.”

                Saanik allowed himself a quiet laugh. He allowed himself a bit of a louder laugh when he saw the look of disbelief on Ranma's face. “Yes, Captain. Vulcans can and do laugh.”

                Ranma blushed. “I apologize.”

                Saanik shook his head. “Don't. We repress our emotions. We still have them. I have not meditated in many days, as while I was in prison, I was using my emotions as a form of protest.”

                Ranma looked at Saanik, much thinner than he was the first time he had met him. “Were you on a hunger strike as well?”

                Saanik nodded. “Yes.”

                “Well then,” Akane smiled as she set down a glass of tea and a bowl of ramen in front of Saanik. “Good thing we broke you out. Now you can enjoy tea and ramen with us.”

                Saanik bowed his head in respect. “Thank you.”

                The trio ate in silence for a moment before Saanik spoke again. “Captain, you asked me earlier if there was anything I needed.”

                Ranma nodded.

                “Anything at all?”

                Ranma again nodded.

                Saanik looked out the window at Vulcan. “My... lawyer.”

                Ranma looked at Saanik.

                “They will kill her.”

                Akane looked to Ranma who had turned and was looking at Vulcan himself. Ranma turned back to Saanik and put his hand on the older man's arm. The pair looked at each other for a good minute.

                Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be. Ranma understood exactly what needed to be done.

                “No, they won't,” Ranma tapped his communicator. “Saotome to Hino.”

                “Yes sir?”

                “Can you come to my quarters, ASAP?”

                “Yes sir.”

                A smile crept across Saanik's face as he continued to eat. “She doesn't deserve to die just because she's associated with me.”

                Ranma nodded. “Where can we find her?”

                “She should be coming home from work soon,” Saanik replied.

                <Nifty Star Trek Romulan Doorbell Sound>

                “Come in,” Ranma called.

                Rei walked in, slightly out of breath as she had taken Ranma's 'ASAP' instruction to mean 'run.' She looked to Saanik and nodded. “Minister.”

                “I don't know if you've met,” Ranma smiled. “Minister, this is the officer who's responsible for your escape.”

                Rei smiled. “Well, Chief Yuki found you.”

                Saanik grinned. “A soldier is only as good as their commander.”

                Ranma nodded. “She's the best in Starfleet.”

                Rei beamed.

                “Commander,” Ranma continued. “I need you to do another snatch. This one a bit easier, though. Even though the target doesn't know you're coming.”

                Rei blinked. “Kidnapping?”

                Saanik chuckled. Rei gave him the same expression that Ranma did. Saanik again laughed. “Everyone thinks we don't laugh.”

                Akane laughed this time and went to refill everyone's tea.

                “She will forgive you for the assault once she sees me, I promise,” Saanik assured Rei.

                Ranma nodded. “One team, Commander. Small, in and out. The Minister will give you the coordinates of the target’s house.”

                Rei nodded, jotted down some coordinates and a time from Saanik and headed for the door. “Okay, back with her in a couple of hours.”

                “Commander…” Saanik called out, trying to stand, but failing. Akane rushed over to him but is waved off. Rei paused and turned to Saanik. “Thank you.”

                Rei nodded and walked out.

-----

                “And the Ministry of Intelligence is coming why?” the Warden asked in an annoyed Vulcan tone.

                “They think this was a military operation, not just some jail break,” one of the jailers replied.

                The Warden sighed. “Of course it was a military operation. They had transport inhibitors, projectile weapons, and high-grade explosives. We don't need our operations shut down for a week to tell us that.”

                The Vulcan jailer shrugged as the MoI ship landed outside of the prison and several dozen MoI security guards jumped out, securing the perimeter. After them, multiple MoI officials emerged, including Salek.

                The prison's warden, Tukon, walked out and greeted them.

                “Hello. I am Tukon, Warden of the Jav'Cao Prison.”

                Salek nodded. “I am Minister of Intelligence, Salek. We will try and keep this as short as possible, seeing as you have a lot of work to do to repair the damage. We need to interview all the guards who had any contact with the assailants and any prisoners who saw them as well.”

                Tukon nodded and motioned for the group to come with him.

                The MoI spent the next ten hours going over the prison with a fine-tooth comb. The forensics people became confused as all the transporter signatures were Romulan, however the guards swore up and down they were fighting, mostly, humans. 

                The phaser signatures left did not match any known race and very few races still use projectile weapons and even fewer would start off using projectile weapons and then switch to phasers.

                It was all starting to point to hired mercenaries.

                That was until one MoI investigator found him.

                “Salek,” he called.

                Salek turned to the investigator. “Yes?”

                “I think you should come and hear what this prisoner has to say.”

                Salek nodded and began to walk with the investigator. “I am pretty sure he's crazy,” the investigator continued. “However, some of the things he is saying sounds familiar.”

                “Familiar? In what way?”

                “Starfleet.”

                Salek pondered this until the pair got to the jail cell. The investigator looked to the prisoner and barked at him. “Tell him what you just told me.”

                “Which part?” the detainee asked.

                “The whole thing!” The MoI officer snapped.

                “Oh, well there was this woman, she was dressed all in black, and she was going to let me go if I told her where the death row was. But then she shot me in the back.”

                “TELL HIM ABOUT HER SHOULDER!!” The investigator yelled.

                “Oh! Sorry! You said tell him the whole thing!” the prisoner cried. “Anyway, on her shoulder, there were some squiggles, and a picture of a spaceship!”

                Salek continued to listen.

                “Was she alone?” the investigator asked.

                “No. There was a brown man and a white man and a yellow man and blue girl with her. They all had round ears. I don't think any of them were Vulcan.”

                Salek's mind began to churn. He was beginning to understand what the investigator meant by 'familiar.' However, he did not think the investigator realized exactly how familiar this might have been to Salek.

                The head Vulcan spy pulled out a PADD. He punched up some information on it and waited for a moment. It finally beeped in compliance and he showed an image to the prisoner. “Is this what you saw on the shoulder of the woman?”

                The prisoner looks at the image. “Yeah. Except that it was darker. I could see it because I have really good eyes.”

                Salek turns the PADD back and looks at it. On the screen is the NEO mission logo. Salek does not even bother repressing as he smashes the PADD into the ground.

                “SAOTOME!!!!!!”

                Salek turns and begins to walk away.

                “Minister?” the MoI investigator calls out.

                “We're done here,” Salek calls back. “Have anyone connected with Saanik arrested.”

                The investigator hurries to catch up. “That shouldn't be hard. He has no friends, family, or life really. The only one he ever spent any time with outside of work was his lawyer.”

                “Grab her,” Salek ordered.

                “Yes sir.”

                Salek stormed off and into the MoI ship.

-----

                T'Pah thought it was fair to not include grocery shopping on her list of favorite activities. While it would be simple enough for her to simply replicate everything she needed, she preferred the taste of real vegetation. Some people swore they could not tell the difference. T'Pah swore that they were lying.

                Regardless, it was still a long walk for her, having used up her transporter credits for the day. She realized if she went to the store more often, she would not have to carry so much, but then of course that would me that she would have to go to the store more often.

                While the long walk was good for her, it unfortunately gave her time to think. And of course, all she could think about was Saanik. It had been five days. In two days, he would be dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

                You tried your best.

                “I did try my best, but I failed,” she said out loud to herself. It annoyed her to no end that she failed in not only defending her client, defending someone who was innocent, but defending the man that she loved.

                And because her best was not good enough, he would be dead.

                She would probably have felt a little bit better though had she known that the deck was stack against her and that she did not have any chance to win regardless of how good of a lawyer she was or how much evidence they had.

                T'Pah paused. Her sixth sense told her that someone was following her. She looked behind her but saw no one.

                Very few people live in this area of her town, so there should not be anyone else around, especially at this time in the evening. Likely she is just imagining things. At least that was the reasoning she gave herself as she continued the walk home.

                None the less, she picked up the pace.

                After several more minutes of speed walking, T'Pah rounded a corner and approached the walkway to her house. She began to move up it when she was confronted by several people dressed in official Vulcan uniforms.

                “T'Pah?” one of them asked.

                “Yes,” she replied.

                “By order of the Ministry of Intelligence you are under arrest.”

                “WHAT?” she snapped. “Under what charge?”

                “Treason.”

                T'Pah started to argue again, but the officers started to move in to make the arrest. Their actions were quickly ended as multiple phaser blasts shot from the surrounding bushes.

                Before T'Pah could react, Rei had run up behind her, slapped a transport enhancer on her and initiated transport back to the Salvation. Shelton transported as well, however Parker ran over and grabbed the groceries that T'Pah dropped before beaming back.

                Rei was having an exceedingly difficult time holding onto T'Pah in transporter room one. Not to mention the extreme pain she was enduring from T'Pah constantly kicking her in the shins and stomping her feet.

                “Please stop that,” Rei growled. “Minister Saanik asked us to bring you here.”

                T'Pah stopped. “Saa-”

                The transporter room doors opened and Saanik limped in with Ranma right behind him. T'Pah turned her head and smiled. Ranma nodded to Rei who acknowledged the silent order and let T'Pah go.

                T'Pah slowly walked down to Saanik and looked at him. “What happened to you?”

                Saanik grabbed T'Pah and embraced her. “Don't worry about that.”

                Ranma smiled. Rei hobbled down to Ranma. Ranma patted her on the back. “Good work.” Rei just smiled and hobbled out of the transporter room. Shelton followed her out. Parker walked to where T'Pah was.

                “Ma'am, I didn't want your groceries to go to waste, so I brought them on board. They're right behind you. Take care,” Parker nodded and walked out, Ranma trying his best not to laugh the whole time.

                “Why?” T'Pah finally asked, tears coming down her face.

                Ranma turned to the transporter chief and motioned for him to leave. The chief complied, leaving just Saanik, T'Pah and Ranma in the room.

                “I felt you were in danger,” Saanik replied, “so I asked Captain Saotome to send some people to bring you on board.”

                T'Pah nodded. “Just before they did, some police from the Ministry of Intelligence tried to arrest me for treason.”

                Saanik sighed. “I knew Salek had something to do with everything.”

                “Salek?” Ranma asked.

                Saanik nods. “He's got to be a major player in this.”

                “How can we prove it?”

                “There might be proof inside of the MoI,” Saanik replied.

                Ranma sighed. “Breaking into a jail is one thing. Beaming into a government building in the center of the Vulcan capital is something completely different.”

                “What about the facilit-” T'Pah started before Saanik put his hand over her mouth.

                Ranma walked over to the pair. “Is there another MoI facility off Vulcan?”

                Saanik paused for a moment. He ran his hand through T'Pah's hair, then he and Ranma walked to another area of the room.

                “Captain, I am in your debt for rescuing T'Pah. I will not deny it. I love her. However, I have been betrayed by people who have sworn their lives to me, by people I considered close friends...” Saanik sighed. “And here I am on a Romulan ship of all things, being asked to trust again.

                “You will forgive me, Captain, if I am unsure who I am to trust or not.”

                Ranma rubbed his eyes. “What would you need from me to convince you that I am trustworthy?”

                Saanik thought about this. “I would need to know that you mean what you say and that you are only interested in saving our worlds.”

                “Can you achieve that through a mind meld?”

                Saanik nodded. “Though they can be dangerous.”

                Ranma shrugged. “Your trust in me – your trust in us and your help is more important than my wellbeing.”

                T'Pah stepped back as Saanik placed his hands on Ranma's face. Ranma's teeth clenched as the meld took affect and Saanik's hand gripped his face tightly.

                “Your thoughts to my thoughts...” Saanik chanted.

                “My thoughts to your thoughts...” Ranma repeated.

                T'Pah watched as the human captain's face contorted due to the pain he was feeling as Saanik's grip became tighter and his mind pushed deep into Ranma's psyche.

                “What is your goal?” Saanik asked.

                Ranma's teeth clenched, his eyes closed tightly, and his hands gripped what they could. The closest thing being Saanik. T'Pah started to move towards them, but Saanik shook his head, telling her to stay back.

                “To find...” Ranma said through his pain, as he pulled on Saanik's sickbay issue shirt. “...to find who is trying to pull apart...

                “Vulcan and the Earth,” Saanik finished. He paused. “To what end?” Saanik demanded to know.

                “To protect the alliance,” Ranma replied.

                “Why?”

                “Both my people and your people will die if...”

                “...we fail,” Saanik paused for a moment. “You don't want humans to die?”

                “I don't want humans or Vulcans...” Ranma replied.

                “...to die,” Saanik slowly finished Ranma's thought. He continued to look at the blue-eyed captain. “You wish for us to live in peace?”

                “I wish for us to live as brothers...” Ranma let go of Saanik and started to drop to his knees. Saanik lowered himself with Ranma to keep his hands on Ranma's face.

                “...None of us can survive without the other,” Saanik took one of his hands off Ranma’s face and grabbed his arm, ensuring that Ranma was able to go to the ground without falling. He then pulled his left hand from Ranma's face and put it on his shoulder. Ranma blinked a couple of times before wearily looking at the elder Vulcan.

                “Well?” Ranma weakly asked.

                Saanik grinned. “I trust you, Captain. I believe you have only the best interests of Vulcan in mind and I will do what I can to help you.”

                Ranma smiled back. “Thank you.”

                “Do you want a medic?”

                Ranma shook his head. “Just need a minute to shake this off.”

                Saanik nodded. “While I trust you, do you know that everyone on your ship is trustworthy?”

                Ranma nodded. “Whoever is doing this tried to kill us. All of us. I can assure you, that nasty human emotion of vengeance is alive and well on this ship.”

                Saanik nodded. “Very well then. I will not worry about such things.”

                Ranma smiled slyly at Saanik. “I suppose now we can have you transferred from sickbay to your own quarters.

                Saanik grinned back, his eyes looking at T’Pah for a moment. “I do have a caretaker.”

                Ranma smiled as he tapped his communicator. “Saotome to Shampoo.”

                “Go ahead?” Shampoo's voice replied.

                “Please assign quarters to Minister Saanik and his guest.”

                “Right away!” Shampoo replied.

-----

                Salek impatiently rapped his fingers on his desk as he waited for Young to answer his communications system. The Vulcan spy was not happy with having to use covert channels, as everything took so much longer, but any direct communications between Vulcan and Earth would of course be monitored.

                But the wait was the least of his worries right now. The fact that his assistants had not gotten his entire office packed by the time he got back was irritating him as well.

                It was getting so that you could not get any good help anymore.

                Of course, now he was going to have to decide whether or not to pack the rest himself or to just leave it.

                That was assuming that he managed to make it off the planet even.

                “Salek?” Young's voice called out.

                Salek turned around and looked at the communication system. The display read 'audio only', another irritant of the covert system they were using.

                “Yes. I am here.”

                “It's the middle of the night here. This better be important.”

                Salek growled. “You're damned right it's important. Saanik has escaped from prison.”

                Young was silent. “That was a super-max facility. How?”

                “SAOTOME IS HOW!” Salek screamed.

                Young was silent again for a moment before replying in the way one would expect him to. “You're fucking kidding me.”

                “No, I am not,” Salek snapped. “They beamed in that special operations force, grabbed him, then beamed out.”

                “Are you sure it was Saotome? They were nearly three months away...”

                “THAT WAS NEARLY THREE MONTHS AGO!!” Salek again yelled. “A prisoner described one of their uniforms and mission patches to a tee, and one of the security cameras that they must have missed caught one of their faces and I did in fact match it to one of the officers who was assigned to the Sisko.”

                Young pondered this. “How did they get back? There were no Federation star-”

                “IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW THEY GOT BACK!!!” Salek screamed, getting very tired of Young questioning his findings. “There are more than just Federation starships out there. The transporter signatures matched Romulan transporters and knowing Larson he could have a stockpile of old Romulan freighters hidden away somewhere.”

                Young sighed. “Larson hasn't been seen in several weeks. His location is still classified Black Five, so I can't even find out what ship he's on.”

                Salek laughed. “I can tell you where he probably is,” Salek looked up. “I guarantee you that he's in orbit of Vulcan right now.”

                “Is your military deploying mines?”

                Salek nodded even though Young could not see him. “Yes. But it will take a week to get the entire planet covered...” Salek looked to his door and saw one of his officers standing there. “Hold on a moment.” Salek said to Young as he motioned for the officer to come in.

                “Minister, sorry to disturb you,” The officer meekly said as he walked in. Salek knew this could be nothing but bad news as no one was ever sorry to bother him to deliver good news.

                “What is it?” Salek asked.

                “The police forces sent to arrest Saanik's lawyer were ambushed. She was then captured and transported to an unknown location.”

                Salek nodded. “Okay.”

                The officer, relieved not to be injured or yelled at, turned, and walked away. Salek turned to the communication terminal. “I have to leave. Saanik is going to implicate me, and if they can come and go on the planet at will, they will have no problems capturing me.”

                “I understand,” Young replied. “Where will you go?”

                Salek grabbed a few PADDs and stuck them in a satchel. “There is a MoI facility disguised as a mining colony near Ferengi space. I will go there.”

                “I see. Safe voyage my friend,” Young replied.

                “Thank you,” Salek replied before shutting down the terminal. He then punched some commands into his computer, gathered some more PADDs and headed for the door.

                “Computer, execute command Salek Evacuation Bravo.”

                “Authorization code?” the computer asked.

                “6-4-7-8-Alpha-Echo,” Salek replied.

                “Confirmed. Time?”

                “One Hour.”

                “Executed.”

                Salek nodded, turned off the lights and left the room.

-----

                09:00 Six hours after Salek's conversation with Young, 13 after Ranma and Saanik's mind-meld.

                In the Salvation's main conference room, the senior staff had gathered along with Larson and Saanik. Saanik, who was appearing much less disheveled, either due to T'Pah being with him now, or because he was eating and meditating regularly again, acknowledged the group and began to speak.

                “I would first like to extend my appreciation to this crew for granting me both my freedom and my life.”

                “Wasn't nothing,” Rei smirked.

                The room chuckled. “As well,” Saanik continued, “while you may primarily be doing this to save the Federation, you are doing a great service to the people of Vulcan. I will see to it that this is never forgotten.”

                “As I said before,” Ranma smiled, “without Vulcan, there is no Federation.”

                The room mumbled in agreement.

                “Very well then,” Saanik stated. “There is a large amount of evidence that points to elements within the Ministry of Intelligence, specifically Minister Salek, being behind a number of these events.”

                Saanik sighed. “Obviously, there are also elements within the Defense Ministry that have sided with Salek; an entire battalion will not simply obey an order to attack a Federation base and then slink away into the night. That just wouldn't be logical.”

                “There were also several Federation and Starfleet ships destroyed by Vulcan battlecruisers,” Larson added. “Our fleet on route to salvage the Sisko was attacked as well, however we, luckily, had a significant Romulan escort that was able to deal with them.”

                Saanik shook his head in disgust. “I had hoped that was just a rumor, but if you have seen Vulcan ships attack Starfleet vessels with your own eyes, then...” Saanik shook his head again. “I can't find the logic in this at all, but I guess that is not what is important here. What is important is finding the players and ending this madness.”

                The room nodded affirmatively.

                “Capturing Salek will not be easy, the MoI building is highly guarded, and since my escape we have to assume that he will not go home.”

                “Salek is no longer on Vulcan,” Larson informed Saanik, looking at a PADD.

                “How do you know?” Saanik asked.

                “Tell him, Admiral,” Ranma told, more than asked.

                Larson thought about it for a moment, then agreed. “Minister, I am sure you have heard of the Federation group 'Section 31?'

                Saanik nodded. “Anyone within the government has.”

                “I am involved with them. Right now, they have the same goal as we do, and as such they have been watching Salek, at least as much as you can watch someone in his position without being detected.”

                Saanik blinked. “I see.”

                Larson nodded. “They don't know where he went, but he,” Larson paused, wondering how much information to give out. “...crashed the MoI's computer and boarded a civilian transport. They couldn't follow him into the transport station due to the bio scanners.”

                Saanik nodded. “It would show they were human, and they would be arrested.”

                Larson nodded.

                “Well, that might be no problem then,” Saanik said, much to Larson's disbelief.

                “Oh?” Ranma asked.

                “The MoI has a facility here,” Saanik pulled up a small system on the view screen. “It looks like a mining facility, but it's actually a listening post and a black site for...” Saanik sighed. “Undesirables.”

                Ranma shook his head. “Undesirables?” Shampoo asked.

                “Outside of Federation space,” Makoto replied bluntly. “Legally one could say certain rules don't apply.”

                Rei blinked. “That's horrible.”

                “Now is not the time for this discussion,” Larson stated, bringing the conversation back on track. “Ranma, set a course there – best speed. Stop us at the perimeter of the system.”

                Ranma nodded to Shampoo who scurried off to get the ship going.

                “Admiral, if I may ask,” Saanik continued as he moved the star map to a large number of Starfleet ships assembling between Earth and Vulcan. “Is this some kind of defensive line?”

                Larson bit his lip. “No,” he replied bluntly, unsure how much he really wanted to tell Saanik. He realized though that if he kept anything from the Vulcan military officer, he might lose his trust and in turn lose any hope of stopping Salek and his human co-conspirator.

                “So?” Saanik prodded.

                “The Federation intends on invading Vulcan,” Larson replied.

                Ranma's head slowly turned to Larson, as everyone else’s. “What?” Saanik finally asked.

                “It's part of this conspiracy. The final nail in the coffin to push our peoples apart. However, my associates in Section 31 have managed to convince the Starfleet Chief of Staff to delay as long as he is allowed, which gives us six more days to bring to light proof and stop things,” Larson explained.

                Saanik rubbed his head. “Okay then. I will be in my quarters if you need me.”

                “Thank you, Minister,” Ranma smiled.

                Saanik nodded at Ranma and left the room. Larson turned to the group. “Okay, dismissed.”

                The group all stood, apart from Ranma, and walked out of the room as the ship turned away from the red planet of Vulcan and shot off into warp. Once the room was empty, Ranma and Larson sat looking at each other across the long table.

                “While I can appreciate the need not to tell Saanik everything, I would like to be kept in the loop on things like a massive Starfleet force preparing to invade Vulcan,” Ranma stated.

                Larson nodded. “Fair enough. And I would like to be consulted before you send my forces down to pick up people's girlfriends.”

                Ranma rapped his fingernails on the table for a moment, before stopping suddenly. “Permission to speak freely?”

                Larson nodded.

                “They are my forces. This is my crew. While I do appreciate everything you have done for us, getting us off that planet, getting us this ship... I am her captain. If you want to be captain and take that responsibility, fine. But until then, please don't question me or try and usurp my authority.”

                Ranma blinked, unsure if his mouth just got him a one-way ticket to the brig. He was rather surprised when Larson smiled.

                “Ranma, you're right,” Larson said, standing. “I apologize. Doing what you did gained us favor with Saanik, and that's what matters.” Larson patted Ranma on the shoulder. “However, I don't think I will be giving you permission to speak freely again. You're a bit to ballsy for my tastes.”

                Ranma laughed as Larson walked out of the room.

                “Wow. Ranma almost get shot from torpedo tube,” Shampoo called from a different doorway.

                Ranma continued to laugh. “Yeah. That I did.”

                Ranma stood, walked to Shampoo, put his hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the room.

                Sala growled at the noisy group of Vulcan ministers. The High Command chambers was abuzz with rumors and innuendo this morning, after the destruction of not only the MoI mainframe but the entire top level of the MoI building. As well, there was the disappearance of Salek. Despite all of that, there were still more pressing matters on the table.

                “Please everyone, be silent,” Sala again tried to restore order. The new defense minister, an older woman named T'Shalan patiently waited for Sala to acknowledge her. T'Shalan, one of the commanders in the unit that struck the LDF base, knew exactly where Salek was, and as such, was uninterested in the babbling that was going on around the room.

                “Salek left me a message saying that the MoI may have been breached by Section 31, and that is why he needed to execute a mainframe meltdown,” Sala tried to explain. His partial explanation was enough to quiet down most of the ministers. T'Shalan took this as her opportunity to interject.

                “High Commander, we have much more pressing matters right now,” she stated, standing and walking to the room’s view screen.

                “More pressing matters than a security breech and a missing minister?” one of the others asked.

                “Salek isn't missing,” T'Shalan groaned. “He knows where he is and when he feels it's necessary to tell us, he will.”

                The minister who asked about the breech felt slighted but didn't respond. T'Shalan smirked and brought up the tactical overview of Wolf 3-5-9 on the view screen.

                “This is Wolf 3-5-9. It lies between Vulcan and Earth. Intelligence reports that Starfleet is using it as a staging ground for a full out assault on our planet!”

                The room gasped. “How accurate is your intelligence?” Sala asked.

                T'Shalan passed out PADD's to everyone. “This is a copy of the Use of Force Authorization signed by the Federation President. It's known as Operation Reclamation. Their goal is to bring Vulcan back under Federation control, first by assuring our orbital assets including starships are decimated, and then by landing upwards of two million ground forces to pacify the planet.”

                The room began to look over the document.

                “The causality count will be in the hundreds of thousands on the planet alone,” one minister remarked.

                “That's a rather low estimate,” T'Shalan corrected. “We're projecting upwards of five to ten million Vulcan deaths.”

                Sala shook his head. “Do we have the forces for a preemptive strike on their ships?”

                T'Shalan shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. However, what we can do is force them to split their forces back up again by attacking Federation facilities, especially ones that pose a threat to Vulcan colonies and installations.”

                T'Shalan pulled up a new chart, showing three starbases in three different locations in the quadrant. “Starbase 5-5-1, Starbase 3-1-7 and Atlantis Shipyards are all viable targets and close to our now sovereign colonies.”

                T'Shalan turned to the group. “They are also now currently undefended. If we engage them, they will be forced to send ships, potentially reducing the assault fleets capabilities by 50 percent.”

                Sala thought about this for a moment, then nodded. “Do it.”

                T'Shalan nodded and she and her assistants quickly left the room. One of the other ministers turned to Sala. “I certainly hope we're not getting in over our heads here.”

                Sala sighed. “We cannot just sit here and wait to get slaughtered by Starfleet.”

                The second minister nodded as the conversation quietly turned into mundane domestic issues.

FIVE HOURS LATER

                 The commander of the Atlantis Shipyards was starting to get a cramp in his hand from thumbprinting invoice after invoice. He hated this time of the month, but at the same time, you cannot build a starship without parts.

                “Hey Billy!” he yelled out of his office door.

                A scrawny Ferengi, whose real name was obviously not Billy walked in. “Yeah boss?”

                The commander, Cooper Parks, motioned to the stack of PADDs he had just completed signing. “Let the business office know that all the materials have been signed in and they can start work on those two Intrepid class birds.”

                “Yes sir!” the Ferengi replied, before scurrying off.

                Cooper smiled and leaned back in his chair, taking a drink of what was surely an alcoholic beverage. He really did think that asides from having to stamp his finger on a PADD 100 times every month, he had the easiest job in the universe.

                <RED ALERT KLAXXONS>

                “What the fuck?” Cooper angrily asked, as he stood and ran out into operations. He looked out the window into the massive dry dock, expecting to see the station's half constructed Sovereign class ship having dislodged and floating away, however she was still firmly secure in her moorings.

                Cooper turned to one of the few actual Starfleet officers working in the shipyard. “What's causing the alarm?”

                The officer began checking systems. “We have multiple ships inbound?”

                “Friendly?”

                The officer gritted his teeth and looked up at the gruff civilian overseer. “The alarm doesn't sound if they are friendly, sir.”

                Cooper could not disagree with that logic. “Activate the defenses and send out a general distress call.”

                “Aye. However, the nearest Starfleet ship is three days from here.”

                Cooper blinked. “What?”

                “Nearly every Starfleet ship has gone back almost to Earth.”

                Cooper sighed. “Well, here's hoping there are some Klingons cloaked nearby.”

                There were not though, and the shipyards sentry guns and shielding were no match for the six Vulcan cruisers that spent no more than ten minutes ripping the dry dock to shreds.

                The two other targets met similar fates as well, both being torn apart, their minimal defensive systems being no match for the powerful Vulcan cruisers. As for help, none came.

-----

                The Salvation continued to cruise at warp 6.5, the maximum speed it could maintain and still hold a solid cloak, towards the MoI facility Saanik had pointed out.

                Ranma was already displeased.

                They had spotted what they believed was Salek's transport on long range scan, however it was moving at 9.7. To catch it, they would have to decloak. That would have brought them the other issue that Ranma was fuming about.

                Orbiting the MoI facility was an armada of Vulcan ships; 25 to be exact. The Salvation would be obliterated. Surrounding it is also a massive tachyon net, complete with mines, so a cloaked approach and insertion will be out of the question.

                Ranma concluded that they are not even trying to pretend it is a mining facility anymore.

                Regardless, Larson told Ranma not to worry about it, and to park the Salvation a few hours drive from the facility. Ranma, albeit annoyed from not getting a more through explanation, followed the Admiral's instructions and assumed that he had Romulans on the way to help. The Salvation continued, undeterred.

                Until then, Ranma spent some time in his office, thinking about the past year. More specifically, thinking about one man.

                Salek.

                Ranma stared intently at the picture of Salek he had on his monitor. Ever since he first met him, which was almost a year ago to the day, he knew that he would end up being trouble for him. However, Ranma could not understand how much trouble this one Vulcan could cause. How many lives he could destroy – or extinguish.

                Ranma felt a certain irony. In the beginning, it was Salek's hands, among others, that Ranma's life and career rested in. Now Salek's fate would be determined by Ranma.

                Although, as anyone could tell by the stone solid look of contempt that flowed from Ranma's face to the image of Salek that adorned the liquid plasma screen, Ranma had already decided Salek's destiny. It was just the matter now of getting a hold of the son-of-a-bitch as most of the Salvation's crew had come call him.

                <Nifty Star Trek Romulan Doorbell Sound>

                Ranma snarled at the sound of the Romulan door buzzer. While he was grateful to have a ship at all, he really wished they could download some sound files or do something to make this ship sound or feel more like a Federation ship.

                "Come in."

                The door slid open, and Larson walked in, a large grin on his face. The grin slipped when he saw the young captain gnash his teeth.

                "Even the hydraulics sound different," Ranma hissed in annoyance.

                Larson stopped in his tracks and turned towards the door. He intently listened as the doors slid shut and sealed. He slowly turned to Ranma, doing his best to not laugh.

                "I suppose they do," he said, humoring his protege. Larson ambled over to the chair across from Ranma and had a seat, leaning back and eying the pig-tailed man for a moment.

                Ranma blinked. "Is something wrong?"

                Larson shook his head. "No, I am just..." Larson paused for a moment, looking for the right word. "Amazed."

                Ranma continued to look to his boss with a confused expression on his face.

                "You've been through a lot, Captain," Larson stated, drawing an obvious snort from Ranma. "Yet it doesn't seem to have aged you a day."

                Ranma laughed. "Well, my boyish good looks are my greatest asset." Ranma leaned back and tented his fingers, a smug grin creeping across his face. A trait that Larson believe he had to have picked up as a condition from captaining a Romulan starship. "I certainly cannot allow them to just wither away."

                Larson smiled and nodded. "No, I suppose not."

                With a chuckle, Larson stood and walked to the tactical screen that was attached to the port wall of the Talon class starship's ready room. He grimaced at the massive blob of Vulcan ships forming around Vulcan.

                Ranma's eyes slowly moved towards Larson, watching him as he moved his hand down to the icon representation of the Starfleet reclamation force that assembling. Larson's hand slowly traced a line from Wolf 359, where the bulk of the Federation fleet was, to Vulcan. Ranma's eyes followed the elder Starfleet man's hand as it came to a stop, then slowly fell off the screen.

                "Ranma," Larson said quietly, without turning towards him.

                "Yes sir?"

                "Regardless of who wins that fight, the game is over."

                Ranma nodded, despite Larson not being able to see him. "I know, sir."

                Larson switched the screen to the MoI facility and finally turned towards Ranma and nodded. "About five D'Kyr battle cruisers and twenty Suurok class cruisers are guarding the planet that Salek is on."

                Ranma bit his lip before sarcastically scoffing. "What? No battleships?"

                Larson smirked. "I'm more interested in what Salek said that managed to convince the High Command he was important enough to drag twenty-five ships away from the defense of Vulcan."

                Ranma pondered this. "Maybe there's something else on that planet as well. It wouldn't be the first time the Vulcans had hidden something from the Federation."

                Larson knew that Ranma could be right. If there was something there, he would love to be the one to find it. However, he would have to come up with some reason not to share it with their current Romulan allies. But first things first.

                "Well, at any rate, twenty-five ships are a few too many for this one ship to take on."

                Ranma, who was leaning back in his seat slightly, almost fell out. "Wait, what? One ship? What about the Romulans?"

                Larson knew he had not fully explained the situation to Ranma. Time was a commodity they did not have a lot of right now, so just the little things had been talked about. However now he had a Captain who thought for certain that he was heading into a certain slaughter.

                "As much as the Romulans would love to kill Vulcans," Larson explained, "the Romulan government is only willing to provide the Federation with material and covert support."

                "Why?" Ranma asked the obvious question.

                "They do not feel a war with Vulcan is something they can deal with right now."

                Ranma was so furious he did not know what to do with himself. "But Vulcan is part of the..." He trailed off and stared directly at the wall straight in front of him. Ranma blinked a couple of times and then looked at the Romulan print on the bottom of his monitor.

                "They think the Federation will fail to reclaim Vulcan," Ranma stated.

                Larson sighed. This was not helpful.

                "It doesn't matter what they think," Larson motioned at Ranma as the Salvation dropped out of warp. "I have something better. Come on."

                Ranma shook his head and stood, following Larson to the door and out onto the bridge of the Salvation. Larson began to walk to the turbolift with Ranma in tow. Shampoo stood and turned to them.

                Larson smiled and paused just short of the turbolift. He turned to Shampoo.

                "Commander, you have the ship. The Captain and I are disembarking for a bit."

                "Disembarking?" Shampoo asked.

                Ranma shrugged as he followed Larson into the turbolift.

                The doors to the Salvation's transporter room slid open for Ranma and Larson. The pair walked together, however Larson moved to the control panel to speak with the transporter chief. Larson motioned for Ranma to go ahead and step up onto the dimly lit pad as the Admiral tapped his communicator.

                "Larson to Infinity."

                "Go ahead," a voice replied that Ranma instantly recognized as his father's.

                "Request permission to come aboard."

                "Granted," Genma replied. The Salvation's transporter chief looked to Larson as his terminal began to chirp.

                “I am receiving transporter coordinates,” he informed the Admiral.

                Larson nodded. “Very well. Beam the Captain and myself over there.”

                The chief simply nodded as Larson walked up onto the pad. As the transporter began to activate, Ranma turned to Larson.

                “Over where?”

                Within moments, Ranma had his answer. The transporter room in which he appeared was very obviously not a Romulan ship, but a Federation one. However, that seemed quite impossible to Ranma. There were no ships within parsecs of their positions. Unless of course...

                “This ship is cloaked,” Ranma stated.

                This was obvious to everyone but Ranma. Larson put his arm around the younger man and led him out of the transporter room and into a brightly lit hallway. A much different scene than what he was used to from not only the borrowed Romulan ship, but from the Sisko as well.

                “Indeed. You're on board the U.S.S. Infinity,” Larson finally explained.

                “My father is here as well?”

                Larson nodded. “Yes. He's on the bridge, which is where we're going.”

                Ranma managed a nod and continued to walk about a half step behind Larson. As the pair walked, Ranma could not help but notice how the crew members that walked by, some enlisted, some officers, all made a point of looking in his direction. It was not just a 'hey, someone new' look. It was more like they were looking at someone they knew. A pair of people even slowed down to look in Ranma's direction.

                “Why are they all staring at me?” Ranma uncomfortably whispered to Larson.

                Larson chuckled. “I am sure they have heard of you, my boy.”

                “So, are they happy to see me, or plotting my assassination?” Ranma asked, becoming more and more uncomfortable at the ever-growing number of rubberneckers.

                Larson laughed as they, after what seemed like forever, reached the turbolift.

                “Not sure,” Larson shrugged as the pair got into the turbolift and ordered it to the bridge. “Genma tells me their captain is a close friend of yours.”

                Ranma cocked his head. “Close friend?”

                The turbolift doors slid open. Ranma turned back towards the opening in the lift and that is when he saw her. Captain's pips and all. His mouth dropped open and all he could say was “Oh no.”

                “RANCHAN!”

                “Ukyo?” Ranma asked, completely dumbfounded.

                Ukyo tackled Ranma knocking both her and Ranma to the thinly carpeted floor of the turbolift. Larson, after executing a brilliant Ukyo/Ranma dodging maneuver, watched the two hit the deck then turned back to the bridge to see a smiling Genma standing there.

                “This ship is so damn big, Scott,” Genma complained. “We couldn't get to the transporter room before you guys did.”

                “You should have just beamed there,” Larson smiled, grasping Genma's hand and shaking it firmly as Ranma squirmed to get out from underneath Ukyo.

                “So, you actually married her?” Ukyo asked, for what seemed like the tenth time, while glaring at the ring on Ranma's left ring finger.

                Ranma sighed deeply for what seemed like the tenth time as well. “Yes.”

                The pair walked to another station on the Infinity's bridge. Ranma was in awe of this ship. Her bridge seemed to be as big as the Sisko itself. She had two tactical stations. Her operations station could seat four. Her helm required two operators. Engineering had its own room and there was an open 'situation' station that could be configured for almost anything. There was a smaller science station as well as a communications station. The COMM had seats for the Captain, XO and second officer.

                All in all, fully staffed, the bridge could have thirty people on it working.

                Ranma, eager to get Ukyo off the subject of his marriage to Akane, quickly walked to the master situation display. Having not seen the exterior of the ship, the outline of the ship on the large screen was the closest he was going to get to knowing what she looked like.

                “This is a fine ship you have her, Ucchan,” Ranma acknowledged honestly.

                Ukyo beamed. Regardless of her dislike for her now ex-fiancée’s choice in wives, she had to acknowledge he had good taste in ships. “Yes. I don't know how I lucked out in getting her. Right place at the right time, I suppose.”

                Ranma smirked at the irony. He had gotten his command, the best command of his life, out of the spite of his father and a bitter old, panty sniffing Admiral.

                Ranma studied the Infinity. From the outline, she resembled a Norway class starship, except that she was much, much bigger. Whereas a Norway is only ten decks, this beast was 37 with a length and girth to match. The Norway also had a gap between the nacelles. The Infinity did not. For good reason too.

                “What's all that?” Ranma asked, pointing to the area between the nacelles that extended two-thirds of the ship long and about twenty decks deep.

                Ukyo smiled. “That's the hanger decks.”

                Ranma turned to her. “Hanger decks?”

                Ukyo nodded. “We're a carrier, sweetie.”

                Ranma turned back to the master situation display. “No kidding.”

                “Would you like to see?” she asked.

                Ranma nodded.

                Ukyo turned to Genma who was speaking to Larson about their plan of attack in the situation center. “Admiral, I'm going to go give Ranma a tour of the hanger deck.”

                Genma nodded but Larson interjected.

                “Don't spend too much time down there. I'd like to be underway by 19:00.”

                Both Ukyo and Ranma turned to the clock above the main view screen.

                18:29.

                “Yes sir,” the pair replied.

                The two stepped into the turbolift. “Hanger deck A,” Ukyo ordered as the doors slid shut.

                The pair rode in silence for a moment before Ranma, hoping to avoid another question about his marriage, began to ask more questions.

                “So how big is your crew?”

                “Including the flight crew, a little under twelve hundred,” Ukyo replied.

                Ranma whistled. “And I thought it was difficult being responsible for three hundred.”

                Ukyo nodded. “I have great department heads, so, I really don't worry too much.”

                Ranma sighed. “Ultimately you're the captain though.”

                Ukyo leaned up against Ranma. “I'm really sorry about the Sisko.”

                Ranma nodded. “Thanks,” Ranma patted Ukyo on the back and grinned. “I guess I can look on the bright side here. Not only will we be able to catch the bastard who did that to my ship, but we can save the Federation at the same time.”

                “Two birds with one stone, eh Ranchan?”

                “Well, two stones now that you're here,” Ranma smiled.

                Ukyo smiled at Ranma. She was not going to try and pretend that she was not upset that he chose Akane, but at the same time she knew that he and Akane were always going to be together. That is just the way it was.

                But there was always Ryouga.

                The turbolift came to a stop and the doors slid open. The pair walked out as a very dirty enlisted man ran up to Ukyo.

                “Captain!? I'm sorry, if I had known you were coming down, I'd had gotten the boys to clean the place up.”

                Ukyo shook her head. “Don't worry about it, Petty Officer,” the young man sighed in relief as Ranma stifled a chuckle. “Besides, if the place was too clean, I would have been worried you guys weren't doing any work.”

                The petty officer smiled and nodded.

                “Is Commander Beckett down here?” she continued.

                “He's supervising the installation of a repaired launcher,” the enlistee replied. “Maintenance Bay 16.”

                “Thank you.”

                The petty officer nodded and scurried off as Ukyo walked off towards the maintenance bay with Ranma following right behind her.

                Ranma looked down the long hanger deck. It seemed like kilometers from where they were standing to the large door that would open and allow the fighters to exit the warship. In reality, of course, it was not that far, but the sheer enormity of the room made everything appear to be much larger than it was, and Ranma to feel much smaller than he was.

                “There are two more bays,” Ukyo explained. “Below us. Basically, we would launch two here, two from B, two from C, then start from A again.”

                Ranma nodded, while still looking around. “Where are the fighters now?”

                “Maintenance,” Ukyo stated matter-of-factly. “They needed to be equipped with new communications and sensor equipment to work with your ship.”

                The pair reached the maintenance hangers and walked in. They then ended up walking what seemed like another several kilometers, though again Ranma knew it was not, to maintenance bay 16 where Ranma and Ukyo found some more dirty enlisted kids working on what Ranma thought was a shuttle craft on drugs.

                “Ranma, meet the Peregrine class attack fighter,” Ukyo smiled. The enlistees, upon hearing Ukyo's voice, all stopped working to acknowledge her. A gruff man popped out of the cockpit. He was wearing only his sleeveless gray undershirt as he had abandoned his uniform jacket. He had a bald head, yet had a full, but closely trimmed beard. He spoke with what could best be described as a Russian accent.

                “What the hell are you doing? Hold that shit in place!” he barked. Ranma couldn't help himself. He started to laugh. The gruff man, thinking it was one of his workers, grabbed a piece of metal, ready to either throw it, or beat someone, but he suddenly noticed both Ranma and Ukyo.

                “Oh Captain. Hello.”

                “Commander. How are you?”

                “Just a moment, I will grab my jacket. It's a bit hot.”

                “Don't worry,” Ukyo said. Ranma leaned towards Ukyo.

                “Don't worry?” he teased. “Muscley?”

                Ukyo simply growled.

                With a clang, the man jumped down out of the fighter and onto the flight deck. He walked over to the two captains as he put on his jacket. Ranma noticed that on one of his arms he had a large tattoo, looked remarkably like one that the Maquis used to have.

                Ranma decided that now would probably not be the best time to get into a political discussion though, so he put that off and smiled as the man zipped up his jacket and walked over.

                “Ranma, this is Commander Anton Beckett, Chief of Flight Operations,” Ukyo explained.

                Ranma outstretched his hand. Beckett took it and shook it firmly. “Captain Ranma Saotome of the U.S.S. Benja-” Ranma paused. It was still not out of his system yet. “Of the, I guess, U.S.S. Salvation.”

                “Saotome?!” Beckett exclaimed. “Oh, Ukyo's said so many good things about you, Captain!”

                Ranma couldn't help but smile and shake his head. “I've heard.”

                Ukyo giggled before speaking. “Anton, Ranma's team will be the ones, eh, extracting, a high value detainee from our target location. We're going to need to be able to clear them a path so that they can get in there.”

                Anton smiled. “Oh, trust me. Between Infinity's guns and my fighters, tain't going to be a soul alive in space left to harm you.”

                Anton smacked the hull of the fighter a couple of times lovingly. The torpedo launcher that the enlistees were working on dropped off the wing and slammed to the deck with a clang. Anton looked to the two officers.

                “To be fair, we hadn't actually secured it yet. The fact that it didn't fall off simply due to gravity just goes to show you how awesome we are.”

                Ranma and Ukyo both smiled and nodded. “We'll be getting underway in about fifteen minutes and will be at the target within the next twenty-four hours.” Ukyo explained.

                “This is our last bird.” Anton replied.

                Ukyo patted Anton on the back. “Great. Back to work then.”

                Anton nodded turned to Ranma. “Nice to finally meet you, Captain.”

                Ranma smiled. “Likewise.”

                The trio went their separate ways with Ranma and Ukyo heading towards a turbolift. Once inside of one, curiosity got the best of Ranma.

                “So, he said 'the Infinity's guns',” Ranma asked. “She's got a couple of torpedo bays too, eh?”

                Once Ukyo stopped laughing, she turned to Ranma. The incredibly annoyed expression on Ranma's face explained to Ukyo that she should probably not laugh at any of Ranma's questions anymore or face some sort of wrath.

                “Sorry,” she mumbled. “A couple. We have eight phaser banks, four dorsal, four ventral, eight phase cannons, same configuration, and twelve torpedo bays, four tubes each.”

                Ranma just stood there staring at Ukyo. “And a cloaking device.”

                “Well, the Romulans installed the cloak just a few days ago.”

                Ranma shook his head. “Fuck me.”

                “What?” Ukyo asked.

                “Well,” Ranma pondered, “I understand the need for warships, but it almost sounds like this ship was built to destroy planets.”

                The turbolift doors opened and the pair walked out onto the bridge. Larson and Genma turned to the pair and then to the clock. 18:52.

                “Good timing,” Larson smiled.

                Genma could not help but notice how distraught his son looked though. Somewhere buried deep beneath his Genmaness, there was a father in there. “What's wrong, Ranma?”

                Ranma looked to Ukyo. “Well, Infinity is a fine ship. I just wonder why she was built.”

                Larson looked at Ranma.

                “Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she was,” Ranma quickly stated the obvious. Right now, this ship was their only hope of getting through the net of Vulcan ships protecting Salek. “But a ship that's only purpose seems to be destruction seems a little-”

                “Anti-Federation?” Larson finished.

                Ranma nodded. Ukyo, not particularly interested in hearing the man she still had feelings for bad mouth her ship, slowly slinked back to the COMM and slouched down in her chair.

                “You're right. It is,” Larson admitted. “That's why after the Dominion War her construction was canceled.”

                “I'd hate to see how big she would have been if they had finished her,” Genma joked, drawing a chuckle from Ukyo who apparently had been paying attention. Ranma, on the other hand, who was quite frankly getting sick and tired of all the cloak and dagger, was not amused.

                “But?” he pressed.

                “But what do you think I am going to say?” Larson replied.

                “Section 31.” Ranma dryly replied.

                “I can neither confirm nor deny that allegation,” Larson replied.

                Ranma looked to Ukyo, who was just staring at the main viewer.

                “None of the crew are in 31, Ranma,” Larson stated. “If you want to talk about it more, we can talk about it more *AFTER* we capture Salek.”

                Ranma conceded. He did not know if he wanted to talk about it more. Quite frankly he was growing tired of the whole ordeal. He was just interested in bringing to justice the person who had murdered his captain, members of his crew, and was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent Federation citizens.

                After that, he did not know what he was going to do. It was going to be a whole new world by then.

                “Ranma and I will be returning to the Salvation now,” Larson stated. “Genma will be coordinating things over here. Because everyone needs to be on top of their game, we will be waiting twelve hours before departing. After that, it's only a four-hour warp from here to the edge of the solar system where Salek is.”

                Both Ukyo and Ranma nodded. Ranma smiled at Ukyo. “It's good to see you, Ucchan.”

                Ukyo smiled back. “You too.”

                Ranma and Larson got into the turbolift and the doors closed. Ukyo turned to Genma. “It wasn't forced anymore, was it?”

                Genma shook his head. “No, Ukyo. They actually fell in love.”

                Ukyo sighed. “Well, that sucks.”

                Genma smirked as Ukyo slumped down further in her chair. Maybe for you, he thought to himself. Maybe for you.

ONE HOUR TILL ASSAULT

                Saanik smiled at T'Pah. This was as close to bliss as he had been in a long time. However, he knew that there was a very good chance that both he and T'Pah would be dead before the end of the day.

                Salek had quite the armada of defenses built up around the MoI post, and Saanik had his doubts about the Romulan tin can they were flying in being able to sneak past it all.

                However, he had to acknowledge that had he been left in prison, he would be dying by the end of the day anyway. At least this way, he was with her. And she was with him.

                “How are you feeling, Saanik?” T'Pah asked, bringing the older man some tea.

                Saanik continued to smile contently. “I am at peace.”

                T'Pah sat down next to him. Saanik took a drink of his tea before wrapping his arm around T'Pah and pulling her close to him. “I am pleased we can spend our last hours together, Saanik.”

                Saanik nodded, though his smile faded. “Had they left me in the prison, you would have been left alone.”

                “Had they left you in the prison, the Federation may have killed millions of our people, including me,” T'Pah argued.

                Saanik sighed. “They still might. If Saotome fails, there will be no way to stop the invasion.”

                T'Pah had no response. She simply leaned down on Saanik's midsection, as Saanik ran his hand through her hair.

                <Nifty Star Trek Romulan Doorbell Sound>

                Saanik turned to the door as T'Pah sat up. “Who is it?” Saanik called out.

                “Captain Saotome,” Ranma answered.

                Saanik stood. “Please come in.”

                T'Pah also stood as the doors slid open and Ranma walked in. The pig-tailed captain smiled and bowed slightly to T'Pah before turning to Saanik.

                “I'm sorry for disturbing you, Minister.”

                “Not at all, Captain. Is there something I can do for you?” Saanik asked.

                “I was wondering if we could have a conversation,” Ranma smiled.

                Saanik blinked. “Of course,” he responded after a moment.

                Ranma continued to smile, stepping back to the door, allowing it to open. Saanik turned to T'Pah. “I'll be back in a moment.”

                Ranma turned to T'Pah as well. “It'll just be a couple of minutes, I promise.”

                T'Pah nodded to Ranma and watched the door as the pair walked out.

                Ranma and Saanik walked down the Salvation's corridor in silence for a moment before Ranma began to speak. “I hope your accommodations are adequate. Those were the largest quarters we could locate.”

                Saanik nodded. “They are, thank you Captain.”

                Ranma kicked a bulkhead as they walked by. “I'm not a fan of this ship myself. It makes a ton of weird noises, it's far to green and it reminds me of prisoner of war simulation from the academy.”

                Saanik smirked as he followed Ranma into an observation lounge. “Is the Federation giving it back when you’re done?”

                “Good lord I hope so,” Ranma exclaimed. “I can't imagine the Romulans loaned it to us before they stripped anything we could salvage militarily off of it anyway.”

                “Mmm,” Saanik agreed as he sat down in front of the viewscreen. Ranma walked up and activated it.

                “For what it's worth, Minister, I'm just trying to satisfy my own personal curiosity here. So, nothing we talk about is leaving this room,” Ranma smiled.

                Saanik nodded cautiously as Ranma brought up some tactical scans.

                “Three Federation bases were destroyed in the last few hours by three different groups of Vulcan ships.”

                Saanik shook his head. “No...”

                “Yes,” Ranma acknowledged. “There are twenty-five cruisers and battle-cruisers around our target and about one-fifty around Vulcan.” Ranma turned to Saanik. “Why -”

                “Ranma- The Dominion War-”

                “Goddammit!” Ranma cursed, turning away. “I am so sick of hearing that! The war was four years ago, and it's over! Starfleet has been rebuilt-”

                “Not to where it was,” Saanik interrupted. “You should know that as well as I do. You weren't tasked with border patrol, but what did you spend most of your time doing?”

                Ranma groused. Saanik had a point there.

                “Janeway damaged the Borg's ability to come and go at will, but who knows when they could reestablish it. Who says the Founders weren't going to change their mind and seek revenge for Section 31 poisoning them? Klingon leaders come and go at the drop of a hat.”

                Saanik stood and walked to a window and looked towards the streaking stars. “And who knows what’s out there, past where we can get to. Just because we don't know how to get to them, doesn't mean they don't know how to get to us.”

                Saanik turned to Ranma. “Self-preservation is the right of every species. The MoD never meant for our build up to be used against the Federation, but to supplement and help Starfleet. However, first and foremost, to defend Vulcan and our people.”

                Saanik sighed. “They should have been reported to Starfleet.”

                Ranma bit his lip. “We kept secrets too.”

                Saanik turned to Ranma.

                Ranma pointed to the window. “There is a gigantic ship probably a kilometer away, full of fighters and enough firepower on it to destroy a small planet.”

                “Huh,” Saanik grinned, squinting. “So, perhaps we will not die.”

                Ranma laughed. “I sure as hell hope not.” Ranma put his hand on Saanik's back and guided the older man out the door and back to his quarters.

                Both security officers stationed in Salek's office worriedly watched their boss, their eyes slowly following him from one side of the room to the other as he paced.

                Salek had been pacing from one side to the other for the past fifteen minutes as he waited for Young to respond to his communication. It was not Young's fault, he knew. He had made Young wait much long for him when he was busy. That, however, did not change the fact that it irritated him to the brink of his emotional repression.

                Finally, the audio channel came to life with a crackle. “Salek?” Young asked.

                “Yes. I am here,” he answered, running to his desk. “Are you alone?”

                “Of course!” Young scoffed. Young knew their conversations were private and was starting to get offended by the fact that Salek asked him that every time they spoke. “Are you?”

                “More or less,” Salek responded, referring to the security officers. “I am in a safe place though, so everyone here is handpicked by me and is totally loyal.”

                “Mm,” Young mumbled, not sure if he was convinced. “What do you need? The Council was not happy that I left in the middle of a briefing.”

                “I need to know why the Federation has cloaked ships flying around.”

                There was an uneasy pause on Young's end. “Cloaked ships?”

                “Yes.”

                “There are no cloaked Federation ships, except for the Defiant. And that cloak was removed after the war,” Young explained.

                Salek sighed, repressing the frustration he was feeling. “You are lying.”

                “I am not!” Young snapped. “Why would I lie to you?”

                Salek turned and paced a little more. “Saotome's soldiers beamed down from a cloaked ship to kidnap both Saanik and his lawyer.”

                “His lawyer? Why?” Young asked.

                “It does not matter why!” Salek snapped. “I want to know where he got a cloaked ship from and how many there are!”

                “CLOAKS DON'T WORK WITH FEDERATION SHIPS!!!!” Young screamed.

                “What about the Defiant?” Salek retorted.

                “It was configured to work with the help of the Romulans.” Young sighed. “Salek, you have to understand! The treaty! It prohibited us from making cloaks to work with our ships!”

                “Are you sure all parts of the Federation obeyed that treaty?” Salek asked.

                Young sighed. “Every Starfleet ship that is within six months travel of Vulcan is accounted for and is either on route to Wolf 3-5-9 for Operation Reclamation, is staged around Earth for defense or is otherwise dry-docked. I assure you, there are no cloaked Federation sh-”

                “Communication jammed,” the Vulcan computer reported as the facility's alert klaxons began to sound.

                “Operations to Minister Salek,” a voiced called out over the intercom.

                “Yes?” Salek responded, dryly.

                “A Federation ship just decloaked and is approaching the outer perimeter.”

                Salek rubbed his head and bit his lip, before storming for the door to his office.

                “Destroy it.”

                “Every Starfleet ship that is within six months travel of Vulcan is accounted for and is either on route to Wolf 3-5-9 for Operation Reclamation, is staged around Earth for defense or is otherwise dry-docked. I assure you, there are no cloaked Federation ships-”

                “The communication link has been severed,” the Starfleet computer explained to Young. The Councilman looked at it oddly for a moment before pressing a couple of buttons, each one buzzed at him in their standard, non-compliant manner.

                “Why can't you reestablish a link?” Young asked it.

                “The signal is being jammed at the source,” the female voice replied.

                Young leaned back. “Oh shit.” He turned and looked out the window.

FIVE MINUTES TO ASSAULT

                Minako quickly pushed her way through the group of marines and security officers assembling in the cargo bay of the Salvation. It was times like this that she became more and more annoyed at how much they all looked alike when they were in their combat uniforms.

                She had the idea of activating the bay's fire suppression system, as locating a small pig would probably be easier, but that would end up being more trouble than it would be worth.

                Luckily, it didn't come to that.

                “Lost?” a voice called out as a hand grabbed the back of her uniform.

                Minako spun around to Ryouga and smiled. “You're so hard to find without your bandana!”

                Ryouga grinned. “I can't be giving the Vulcans something to aim at.”

                Minako chuckled. “I can't stay long, but I wanted to wish you good luck.”

                Ryouga nodded. “Thanks.”

                The pair stood in silence for a moment, before Minako took Ryouga's hand and placed it on her chest. “I'm sorry for being so stupid before.”

                Ryouga looked at her and slowly shook his head. “You weren't.” Ryouga brought his other hand up to her face and caressed it slowly. “I am, I guess for lack of a better term, pig-headed.”

                Minako laughed.

                “But,” Ryouga chuckled at his own joke, “have faith that you and I came together for a reason, and no number of Vulcans are going to separate us.”

                Minako smiled as Ryouga reached into his pocket and pulled out his bandana. He then untied Minako's red ribbon, retying her hair, rather haphazardly with the bandana. Both chuckled at his handiwork.

                “Eh, you might need to fix that.”

                Minako laughed before the pair shared a kiss. The Salvation's operations officer ran off as Col. Lee stepped up onto the podium to address the marines and security assembled.

                “Okay ladies and gentlemen. You've been given the nuts and bolts, so here's the quick reminder.” Lee said, pointing to a diagram obtained by long-range scans.

                “We're going to attack the perimeter security forces and as many interior forces as we can. Take as much heat off the NEO teams who will be inserting in to grab the high value target.

                “Make sure your phasers are set to high stun. The Vulcans, whether they realize it or not, are not our enemy. However, they will not likely be showing us the same courtesy.”

                Lee pointed to his vest. “Now, the Vulcan disruptor fries your central nervous system, causing your brain to lose the ability to tell your heart to beat. Your vest will absorb that shot – but if it will lose that ability if it gets hit a couple of times.

                “Getting hit in the arm or leg will probably not kill you, but it will cause major damage and probably cause you to lose that limb.” Lee gritted his teeth. “You'll be dead before you hit the ground if you're shot in the face.”

                Ryouga shuddered.

                “Okay, get to your assigned transporter rooms. We beam down in five minutes!”

                “GO GO GO!” someone yelled as the Starfleet soldiers began to clear out of the cargo bay.

ONE MINUTE TO ASSAULT

                On the bridge of the Infinity, the red alert lights slowly pulsed, accentuating the battle ready mood-lighting of the massive warship. Ukyo sat, legs crossed, eying the view screen intently. Waiting, watching for the stars to stop streaking.

                With a flash, they did. There she saw it. A small, moon sized planet off in the distance. Still too far away to see the ships protecting it.

                Ukyo stood and walked to the situation console, known to the Infinity crew as SitCon, and looked to Genma. “Admiral?”

                “As expected, twenty-five ships and a number of planetary defense turrets. As well as a pretty large tachyon net with mines.”

                Ukyo turned to operations. “Is the Salvation with us?”

                “Yes ma'am,” operations replied.

                Ukyo looked to Genma who simply nodded.

                “Helm, take us in. Full impulse.”

                “Aye,” the helm officer smiled.

                The Infinity roared forward towards the planet, the Salvation however stayed parked behind, waiting for the right moment to push through.

                Ukyo watched the tactical display. “Forty-five seconds to range of the ships, thirty-five to the tachyon net,” operations called out.

                Ukyo nodded. Genma's eyes ping-ponged from her, to the viewscreen then back to the tactical display.

                Maybe she would have been the better wife for Ranma? He thought.

                Another time!!!! Another voice yelled.

                “Twenty seconds to tachyon net!”

                Ukyo raised her hand.

                “Fifteen.”

                Ukyo nodded.

                “Ten!”

                “DECLOAK! TARGET SENTRIES! WEAPONS FREE!” Ukyo yelled.

                The Infinity, since the first-time leaving space dock, decloaked. Her enormous size blew through a few asteroids that were in her way. Her phaser banks lit up and began laying waste to the automated sentry guns that had started to take aim on her.

                “Jam all communications,” Genma ordered.

                “Aye!” someone else responded.

                “Launch wave one, clear the mine field,” Ukyo's first officer snapped.

                “Launching!” Anton called out over the comm.

                Ukyo watched the scene play out on the SitCon as a dozen shuttle size fighters shot out, two at a time, from the aft of the Infinity.

                “The defense ships are turning this way,” tactical called.

                “Took them long enough,” Ukyo smirked.

                Genma grinned. “Even with the mines down, we still need to take down the net in order to keep the Salvation concealed till they make their deposit.”

                “What is generating it's power?” The second officer asked.

                Ukyo looked at the display. “There,” she pointed at an asteroid near the planet that appeared to be sending power to the grid. “Power generator.”

                The first officer hit some buttons as he began to issue more orders. “Anton, I need this power generator gone. Launch wave two.”

                “Aye!”

                “First Vulcan ships are in range!” tactical called out.

                The rocking of the Infinity confirmed that she was indeed within weapons range of at least some of the Vulcan cruisers.

                “We need to get the rest of the fighters out before we can start maneuvering,” the first officer growled.

                “I know,” Ukyo snapped. “Anton, get those fighters out. All of them.”

                “We're launching as fast as we can, Captain,” Anton replied.

                “Sentries are down,” Tactical reported.

                “KILL THOSE SHIPS THEN!” The XO snapped.

                “Shields at 88 percent.” The engineering reported.

                “Anton?” Ukyo asked.

                “Half of wave three is out.”

                Ukyo rapped her fingernails on the SitCon impatiently as one of the Vulcan ships was obliterated by a massive burst of Infinity's firepower. However, Infinity was about to be within range of all remaining twenty-four ships within a minute.

                “All fighters out!” Anton reported.

                “DEFENSIVE PATTERN GAMMA ONE!” the XO screamed.

                The Infinity quickly shot downward, dodging several dozen incoming torpedoes. The tactical officer use this to his advantage, firing several of his own, and with the assistance of the fighters, destroyed or disabled two of the Vulcan ships.

                Ukyo smiled as more reports came in. “Captain, all mines are clear on Salvation's flight path and the net is down.”

                Genma smiled as well as he began to relay the information to his counterpart on board the Salvation.

                Ranma squirmed around in his chair. He did not care for simply sitting there and watching the beating that the Infinity seemed to be taking.

                Shampoo eyed him cautiously. She knew exactly what he was thinking for she was thinking it too. Both were torn between 'their job' and helping their vastly outnumbered colleagues.

                As each additional Vulcan ship crawled into range, Ranma got squirmier, until he could not take it anymore. He jumped from his seat. “Admiral.”

                “Ranma, we cannot allow our insertion to be compromised,” Larson replied. “The Infinity is a big ship, and she is not going to be destroyed before she launches all her fighters and is able to start moving.”

                Ranma slowly sat back down and rapped his fingernails on his armrest. Shampoo slowly walked from her station and placed her hand on top of his. She looked down at him.

                “Ranma,” she said softly.

                Ranma looked at her.

                “That very annoying,” she smiled.

                Ranma could not help but chuckle. “Sorry.”

                “See?” Larson smiled, pointing at the viewer and the wreckage of two Vulcan ships, one derelict, one floating away and the Infinity pulling away from the group.

                “Sorry. Just good friend of mine and all,” Ranma explained.

                Larson nodded as he read a message on his terminal. “Road's clear, by the way.”

                “Neat,” Ranma smiled. He turned to Shampoo. “Take us in, please.”

                Shampoo nodded and quickly bounded to the helm station. “Helm, bring us to transporter range of the planet. Full impulse.”

                Ranma hit his communicator. “Saotome to Hino and Lee. Go time, one minute.”

                “Aye,” they both replied.

                Ranma turned to Larson. “Can we shoot something once they know we're here?”

                Larson smiled. “By all means.”

                Makoto sighed loudly. “THANK YOU.”

                The Salvation barreled ahead at full impulse, somehow managing to blow right through the battle and the swarm of Infinity's fighters without hitting any and into orbit over the planet.

                Once there, they establish a position over the facility. Ranma walks up to Larson's station and examines it. “I'm sending this down to both groups,” Ranma explained.

                Larson nodded.

                Minako looked to Ranma and Larson. “The security detail has transported.”

                Ranma nodded.

                Just a few more seconds.

                Minako looked to her terminal, then back to Ranma. “The NEO teams have transported.”

                Ranma again nodded and turned to Makoto.

                “Red alert, decloak, shields up, pick a ship and kill it. I don't care what order that's in.”

                Makoto grinned. “Aye.”

                A majority of the then Sisko, now Salvation crew was security or marine officer or enlisted personnel, so the number of forces that appeared outside of the Vulcan facility was quite numerous. Two hundred and eleven to be exact.

                The external guards were not ready for them. Logic would dictate that any cloaked ship would be discovered by their tachyon net.

                However, the external guards were not the main meat of the facility as the Salvation detachment would soon find out. Once those guards were stunned and detained, the first group in met heavy resistance.

                It took some time, but eventually the Salvation group pushed in and forced the remaining Vulcans further into the facility. The marines, trained for ship boarding, felt right at home in this kind of scenario. The security personnel, who were more trained for repelling boarders, felt a little out of place, but were confident in their abilities.

                However, that did not stop them from letting the marines take point.

                “We don't want to push them all up to where the HVT is,” Lee whispered.

                “Yes, please don't,” Rei replied from on the top floor where she and the other NEO forces were hunting for Salek.

                Ryouga suddenly stopped his group. His excellent hearing caught something, and he motioned towards a doorway. A second group returned to them, and they slowly opened it and tossed in a stun grenade.

                The grenade exploded and the marines ran in, shooting anything that moved. Some of it shot back. Ryouga found himself slamming into a wall and sliding to the ground.

                Within a few seconds the shooting stopped. Some security forces rushed in and began to restrain several dozen stunned Vulcans while the marine medics began to look at Ryouga and another marine who had been shot.

                “We need to get you back to the ship,” the medic said.

                Ryouga looked over as the medic and the second marine who had taken a disruptor blast to the shoulder dematerialized. Ryouga looked to his medic. “Well?”

                “How's your head?” he asked.

                Ryouga scoffed. “I hit my head harder than that on purpose!”

                The medic blinked. “Why would you do that?”

                Ryouga sighed. “My head is fine.”

                “Oh. Well then, you're fine. The vest absorbed the blast completely.”

                Ryouga nodded and stood. “Thanks.”

                The medic nodded, looked at Ryouga a little oddly one last time before walking off. Ryouga began to walk out after him but ran into Col. Lee.

                “Sir,” Ryouga acknowledged, snapping to attention.

                “Captain, those are some mighty fine ears you have there.”

                “Thank you, sir.”

                Lee nodded. “According to the bio scan we had, that was most of the complex’s security. Seems like the green-blooded bastards were going to try and out flank us.”

                Lee looked to some of the still unconscious Vulcans. “Son, you may have saved countless lives here.”

                Ryouga grinned. “Just doing my job, sir.”

                Lee patted Ryouga on the shoulder. “I used to swear I would rip your head off because I was always drinking coffee when you would knock the ship around.”

                Ryouga looked to his boots. “Oh...”

                Lee laughed. “Glad I never got the chance!”

                “Yeah, me too.”

                Lee patted Ryouga on the shoulder again. “Let's go.”

                Ryouga nodded and the pair quickly walked to catch up with the rest of the group.

                Rei, Shelton, and Parker slowly crept around corridors, checking office after office, not finding a sole. Rei had already concluded that any remaining security on this level had gathered with Salek to defend him, so when they did find him, it would be ugly.

                That was, of course, if Salek had not decided that the logical choice would be to kill himself to avoid any information falling into their hands.

                Though nothing about this plot seemed logical to Rei, so she had no real fear that he would be the type to off himself.

                Parker sighed as the next room turned up empty. “Shit, this sure would be easier if the damned walls didn't block our tricorders.”

                Rei nodded. “Chief, are you having any luck?”

                “No ma'am,” Kio replied. “We're getting closer to the end of our search though. We'll-”

                The sudden end of Kio's sentence worried Rei. “Chief?”

                Rei looked to Shelton and Parker. “Kio?”

                “AMBUSH!” Kio yelled.

                Rei nodded to her two partners and the trio took off running in Bravo Team's direction.

                Kio, Anthony, and Mike were growing quite frustrated. They swore they had checked these same rooms before but, at least according to their map, they were in a different part of the building.

                Most of the offices seemed rather nonchalant. Kio supposed that is what you would want a secret intelligence facility to look like though. After all, if you made it look like a spying center, it would not be secret.

                The group did happen to stumble across one person. Mike stunned her, much to Kio's displeasure. She had hoped they could 'convince' her to tell them where to go. Anthony tried to explain that Kio did not know how to torture anyway, but Kio still was angry.

                Then there was Rei. Every five minutes. 'Have you found him yet?' 'Have you found him yet?' Kio was ready to tell her 'yes' just to shut her up, but then of course, she would have to find him before Rei got there.

                “Hey, this looks like an important office,” Mike noted as the group slinked up to a doorway with some rather large Vulcan print on the door.

                “It probably says 'mops' on it,” Anthony groaned.

                Kio chuckled. “Mike, if we find a janitor in there, let's interrogate him before we shoot him.”

                “Aye,” Mike groaned.

                “Chief, are you having any luck?” Rei's voice called out. Kio rolled her eyes as Anthony disabled the lock and slid the door open.

                “No ma'am,” Kio replied as the group slowly walked in. The room was pitch black, with minimal lighting. Anthony did his best Vulcan impression as Kio continued to talk to Rei.

                “Ha'ge!” Anthony called out, activating the lights.

                “We're getting closer to the end of our search though. We'll-” Kio was cut off as the lights turned on, revealing about two dozen Vulcan security officers and Salek standing against the back of the office, their weapons pointed at Bravo team.

                “Chief?” Rei's voice asked.

                “Lower your weapons,” Salek demanded.

                “Kio?” Rei's voice once again called.

                “Last chance,” Salek again demanded.

                The Vulcans began to fire as the trio dove behind some office furniture. Salek quickly went through a door into a second office as his security officers continued to fire on Bravo Team.

                “AMBUSH!” Kio screamed.

                Mike looked to Kio. “This couch isn't going to last forever.”

                “No,” Kio agreed. “No, it isn't.” Kio quickly set down her phaser rifle and pulled out her small projectile handgun from its holster attached to her hip.”

                “Chief?” Anthony asked.

                “Rules can kiss my ass right now,” Kio stated. She turned to the couch and started firing. The projectile rounds shot right through the couch and through the phase resistant garments the Vulcan security forces were using for cover.

                “I only have fifteen rounds though,” Kio acknowledged.

                Mike and Anthony pulled out their projectile guns as well. “Same.” They stated.

                “Make them count,” Kio ordered.

                The trio continued to fire through their quickly degrading cover. Their tactic was starting to fail however as the Vulcans were beginning to move and find more sturdy protection. Eventually all three of them ran out of bullets and were forced to go back to their phaser rifles, with still a dozen Vulcan guards remaining.

                “Okay, here's the plan-” Kio started to state, but is interrupted by a disruptor blast that blows through the couch and passes between her and Anthony.

                “Move?” Anthony asked.

                “Yes,” Kio replied.

                Mike nodded, and stands, firing rapidly at the Vulcans, hitting two of them, and allowing Kio and Anthony to move to a new position behind a knocked over conference table.

                Mike quickly follows. Kio turns towards him as she hears a thud. Time stops for her as she sees her subordinate lying a mere meter a way, motionless.

                “MIKE!” she screams.

                “FUCK!” Anthony yells.

                Kio starts to stand, but Anthony grabs the back of her vest and pulls her back down. “Jesus, Kio, don't be stupid.”

                “He's hit.”

                Anthony nodded and hit his communicator. “Bravo to Salvation. Medical emergency. Beam Sargent Simpson directly to sickbay.”

                “Acknowledged,” a voice on the other end replied. Within a couple of seconds, Mike dematerialized and is transported to the ship. Anthony looked at his friend, who is simply staring at her rifle which is laying on the ground by her knees.

                Disruptor fire continued to pass over their heads and hit the table protecting them. Anthony poked his head out to see the Vulcans advancing on them.

                “Dammit Kio, snap out of it. It happens. We're all going to much worse off if those guys get a hold of us.”

                Kio turned to Anthony and slapped him. Hard. “It happens? You fuck.”

                Anthony sighed. “I guess the Commander was right. You're not fit for this job. And what's most annoying about it is both Mike and I end up looking like morons for actually respecting you and looking up to you.”

                Anthony popped up and shot a Vulcan before ducking to avoid an onslaught of disruptor fire.

                “You guys look up to me?” Kio asked, quietly.

                Anthony peaked around the corner, shot another, and quickly ducked back in again as more green blobs of energy came flying at him. “Of course we do, stupid. Do you think we'd put our lives into the hands of someone we didn't respect? Into the hands of someone we didn't think could actually do the job? Into the hands of someone we didn't think knew what the hell they were doing?”

                Anthony, once again resembling a jack in the box, popped up and took down another Vulcan before hiding again.

                “The only one too stupid on our ship to realize how good you are is you,” Anthony stated rather bluntly.

                Kio turned to him. “I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling me stupid.”

                Anthony looked at her sternly. “Once you stop being stupid, gladly.”

                Kio leaned in and touched her forehead to Anthony's. “Deal.” The pair popped up in unison and shot a couple more Vulcans. The remaining four or five Vulcans, rather than returning fire, fled into the office where Salek went.

                It was about this time that Rei, Parker, and Shelton ran into the room, weapons ready. Kio and Anthony came from their hiding place and started to move to the office doorway.

                “Where is Sgt. Simpson?” Rei asked.

                “He was injured,” Kio stated dryly. “We sent him back to the ship.”

                “Will he be okay?” Parker asked.

                “I don't know,” Kio answered as she walked to the door. “We think five of the guards went into here, as well as the HVT.”

                Anthony nodded. “No telling how many guards might be hiding in here too.”

                “Commander, with the amount of firepower we might be dealing with, perhaps we should get some of the marines to help us,” Kio suggested.

                Rei shook her head. “We can't risk the HVT being injured.”

                “If he's simply stunned-” Kio started.

                “Chief,” Shelton interjected.

                “It's okay, Commander,” Rei nodded. She turned to Kio. “Vulcan physiology requires them to be stunned at high setting for stun to actually work. But because of that, if he were to get hit with three or four rifles on stun...”

                Kio understood. “It would kill him.”

                Rei nodded. “Precision is the key.”

                “I have the door lock disabled,” Anthony reported.

                Everyone readied their weapons. “Do it.” Rei ordered.

                The door slid open and as expected, disruptor charges came flying out the door. However now the battle was more even. There were no additional security officers inside, simply the five who retreated earlier.

                Those five were quickly dispatched and soon the only one with a gun was Salek; a once powerful man who now found himself crouched behind his desk, desperately trying to send a single, three-word message to his contact on Earth.

                'I've been compromised.'

                “Minister Salek, surrender and you will not be harmed,” Rei called in.

                Salek stood and fired a couple of shots towards the doorway. However, Salek was not a good shot, and most of the charges didn't come anywhere near the group.

                Kio, getting frustrated with the standoff, and confident in Salek's terrible marksmanship, walked through the door.

                “Chief! Get back here,” Rei ordered.

                Kio ignored her and continued to walk towards Salek. Salek stood to take a shot at her, but quickly ducked at Kio fired several shots in his direction, most missing him by mere centimeters.

                “CHIEF!”

                Kio walked right up to the Vulcan minster, ripped the disruptor from his hand, which in and of itself was no small feat given how much stronger Vulcans are than humans, and shoved him into his chair. She smiled as she looked at him.

                “So,” she grinned as the NEO group looked on, too shocked to do anything. “You're the one who tried to run my captain up the flagpole? You're the one who marooned us on some God forsaken planet three months from civilized space in an attempt to kill us. And you're the one who may have seriously injured my friend, eh?”

                Salek blinked. “You seem to be emotional about this.”

                “Oh, you want to see emotional?” Kio smirked as she pulled out her projectile sidearm and putting the barrel up against Salek's eye.

                “KIO!” Rei yelled as the group ran in. Shelton and Parker both pointed their phaser rifles at Kio.

                “They need you for information,” Kio continued, ignoring the guns now pointed at her. “Personally, I'd like to see you dead.”

                Kio pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, as she had already expended all the ammo. Kio laughed as she noticed Salek's hands gripped the side of his chair tightly.

                Rei pulled Kio away as Shelton and Parker moved to restrain Salek. “I thought Vulcans didn't fear death?” Kio taunted.

                “Be quiet,” Rei ordered.

                Anthony watched in silence as Rei drug Kio out of the room.

                Rei slammed Kio against the wall of the hallway. “Just what the hell do you think you are doing?”

                Kio looked at her feet. “I didn't hurt him; I got the gun away from him. What's the problem?”

                Rei grabbed Kio's chin to force her to look at Rei. Her grip loosened when she saw that Kio had tears coming out of her eyes. “Chief...”

                “Commander, if you're going to give me the 'it happens' speech, with all due respect, you can save your breath. I've had it already today,” Kio stated. “I don't know what came over me, I shouldn't have done what I did, and I will deal with the consequences.”

                Rei really thought there should be more to this conversation, but she really was not sure what else there was to say right now. “Okay,” she concluded.

                “May I return to the ship?”

                Rei nodded.

                Kio turned and went for her communicator when she saw Anthony. He walked over to her and took her hand. “Bravo to Salvation. Two for transport.”

                The pair quickly dematerialized.

                “This is really kind of frustrating,” Makoto sighed.

                Ranma patted his chief tactical officer on the back. She was doing a great job, but he agreed, it was indeed a frustrating development.

                He knew the Vulcans and the Romulans had a history, but he had no idea that it would be so serious that Vulcan ships would be built specifically to counter Romulan weaponry. While the Infinity had destroyed ten of the Vulcan defense ships, the Salvation so far had only managed to take out three of them.

                Fortunately, the Romulans had the same idea and the Salvation seemed to simply shrug off all but the most forceful Vulcan assault.

                However, those volleys were few and far between at this point. The Vulcan ships had switched from a 'blob' type offense to more of a skirmish offense, which worked out in the Salvation's favor.

                Though it was harder for the larger and less maneuverable Infinity to deal with.

                Ranma did not mind though. It allowed him to catch up.

                It should bother him that he was considering battle a contest, but he had somewhat of an epiphany; that this group of Vulcans was akin to the Dominion and that their only purpose was the destruction of the Federation, and in turn, the Alpha Quadrant.

                As well, Ranma had always been a warrior, fighting for what was right, what was just. This was a just cause, a righteous battle. Even if there were some 'less than righteous' characters helping with the side of good.

                Ranma eyed the viewer as he walked back to his seat. “Magnify grid 23 Zulu.”

                Minako complied and a Vulcan ship appeared, moving towards the Infinity, here engines bright blue.

                “What's that ships course?” Ranma asked.

                Minako checked. “She's bearing down on the Infinity.”

                “Collision course,” Shampoo stated.

                Ranma agreed as it was obviously moving at full impulse. “Makoto!”

                Makoto barked at the helmsman. “Get me in range!”

                “Aye!”

                The Salvation bolted towards it, her phasers shooting at targets of opportunity along the way, but not stopping for anything.

                “Why isn't the Infinity taking evasive?” Ranma asked, turning to Larson?

                “I told them,” Larson shrugged.

                “It's spinning up warp engines!” Shampoo stated, standing.

                “She's going to warp into the Infinity?!” Minako asked, shocked.

                “Analysis?” Ranma asked.

                “Kaboom,” Shampoo replied.

                Ranma blinked. He turned to Makoto. “Range?”

                “Fifteen seconds,”

                “Not good enough. Fire now,” Ranma ordered.

                Makoto nodded and fired all the Salvation's forward torpedoes. Much to everyone's joy, none of the torpedoes strayed off their unguided course too much and collided with the Vulcan ship, halting its warp attempt.

                “Nice shooting, Tex,” Ranma smiled.

                “Tex?” Makoto asked.

                Ranma shook his head.

                “In range. Killing,” Makoto reported.

                The Salvation quickly finished off the ship before turning aft and chasing after a ship that appeared to be trying to get outside of the Infinity's jamming range.

                After what probably seemed like forever for the Vulcan ships but didn't seem like that long for the Salvation and the Infinity, nineteen Vulcan defense ships lay destroyed or two heavily damaged to continue to fight. The remaining six warped off.

                The Salvation quickly cloaked and once the fighters docked, of the 72 the Infinity launched, 67 survived, the Infinity also cloaked. Survivors from the Vulcan ships were transported to the facility and put into a make-shift detention facility.

                Larson began to look at the reports coming in from the planet. Shampoo also began to read reports.

                “We have Salek,” Larson smiled.

                Ranma happily clapped his hands together once. “Awesome.”

                Shampoo turned to Ranma. “Security and marine detachment report only minor casualties, no fatalities.”

                “An even better day, made perfect,” Ranma grinned, leaning back.

                Shampoo shook her head. “No.”

                Ranma turned to her, as did Larson. “No?” Ranma asked.

                “Akane say you need to come to sickbay regarding Neo.”

                Ranma nodded, stood, and walked to the turbolift. Makoto turned to Shampoo. “Rei?”

                Shampoo shook her head. “No. Not Rei.”

                Both Makoto and Minako breathed a sigh of relief as they did not lose a friend, yet it still hurt knowing that they lost a crew member.

                Kio and Anthony materialized in transporter room three. The pair acknowledged the transporter operator and quickly headed out into the corridor and into the nearest turbolift.

                “Sickbay,” Kio ordered.

                It was the only word spoken in the ride up to deck three. Neither of them spoke as they quickly walked down the corridor. Kio shoved aside both enlisted and officers who got in her way as she made her way to sickbay.

                The pair reached the large set of sliding doors. Kio stopped them just before the entrance. She stared at the large emblem of the Romulan Star Empire on the doors.

                Anthony looked at her. Kio closed her eyes and nodded. The pair stepped forward, activating the sensor that opened the doors.

                Kio opened her eyes and looked around. She saw a couple of medics attending to a couple of marines. Then she turned to her left and saw a bio bed. On the floor was Mike's gear. Next to that, she saw the back of a man standing.

                She saw him.

                He would not be here if Mike was okay.

                He turned.

                He looked at her.

                His face told her.

                He did not even have to get the first word out.

                “Chief,” Ranma said.

                She tried to hold it in.

                “I'm...”

                She could not.

                Kio dropped to her knees, never letting go of Anthony's hand.

                “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!” she screamed, drawing the attention of everyone in sickbay.

                Ranma, unsure of what exactly to do, bit his lip. Akane, started to move towards Kio, but Anthony shook his head, silently telling them to let Kio vent for a moment.

                And vent she did. The small Asian woman continued to yell for a moment before starting to cry. Anthony slowly went to his knees to and leaned close to her.

                “I did it again!” she cried.

                “You didn't do it a first time,” Anthony corrected her. “If you know an ambush is there, you won't go into it. It's not your fault.”

                “I led us into it!”

                “That's your job!” Anthony argued. “And it was our job to follow you. And we loved it. We love you.”

                Kio looked at Anthony.

                “Yes. Even Mike,” Anthony smiled. “Mike was thrilled with this assignment. He loved doing it. He knew the risk, and he was willing to take it. And quite frankly if Mike was going to die for anything I can't think of anything he'd be happier dying for than saving the Federation.”

                Kio's crying seemed to lighten up a bit. Anthony put his arm around her. “And honestly, if you don't mind me saying so, Chief,” He continued, “he's probably up there,” Anthony pointed upwards, “pretty pissed off to see you so whiny.”

                Kio wiped some of the tears on her sleeve and nodded. She and Anthony stood. She finally released Anthony's hand and walked to Ranma, who, along with Akane, had been doing his best to not watch the exchange.

                “Captain, I apologize for my outburst,” Kio stated.

                “Not at all, Chief,” Ranma nodded, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I'm sorry for your loss. For our loss.”

                Kio nodded silently and moved past Ranma and looked at the lifeless body of Sgt. Michael Simpson lying on the bio bed. His face still darkened from what was an apparent disruptor shot to the head.

                Kio put her hand on his and gripped it.

                “I'm sorry, Mike,” she softly said. “Not for what happened to you, but for what happened afterwards.”

                Kio's hands moved up and she gently removed one of his rank pips from his collar and gripped it tightly in her hand. She then leaned over and placed her lips on his forehead, letting them linger there for a while, before standing up right and walking to Ranma.

                She paused and turned to the Captain. Kio gripped Mike's rank pin tightly, drawing a slight amount of blood, before looking up at Ranma.

                “Captain, please don't allow his death to be in vain.”

                Ranma nodded.

                Anthony stood over his now deceased friend for a moment. He quickly wiped away a tear before smiling. “See you later, buddy. Hopefully much later.”

                Anthony turned and walked to Kio. He stopped at Ranma. “Captain, permission to speak freely?”

                Ranma nodded, albeit confused. “Sure, Sargent.”

                “Mike was initially skeptical about this ship, as he heard rumors about, well, you and some of the crew.”

                Ranma chuckled.

                Anthony smiled. “However, he constantly said that he's never served under a commanding officer he's respected more, and even though he was initially LDF, he was grateful for his assignment to the Sisko. He even thought about a transfer to Starfleet Marines so that he would have a chance to continue to serve under you if NEO were ever dissolved.”

                Kio blinked and looked at Anthony. Anthony smiled at her. “You're not the only one he loved.”

                Kio smiled. Ranma smiled as well. “Thank you for telling me that, Sargent.”

                Anthony nodded, took Kio's hand and the pair walked to the doors to sickbay and out into the corridor, where Rei stood.

                “Sargent, would you give us a moment?” Rei asked.

                “Commander, with all due respect, this probably isn't the best time,” Anthony argued.

                “Do I need to rephrase my request as an order?” Rei asked.

                “Anthony,” Kio nodded.

                Anthony let go of Kio's hand and nodded. “I'll be at the turbolift,” Anthony told Kio before walking off.

                Rei started walking. Kio followed closely behind her. “I know you're upset, Chief, but this isn't the job for feelings. We have a job to do, and I need to know whether or not you can do it.”

                “I can do it,” Kio replied.

                “That doesn't sound very convincing,” Rei replied.

                “Well, what do you want me to say?” Kio asked.

                “I want you to believe you can do it.”

                “I believe I can do it,” Kio stated.

                “Now you’re just patronizing me.”

                “Yes ma'am, I am.”

                Rei stopped and turned to Kio. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

                “Does it matter?” Kio asked. “Everything I do pisses you off. You claim your constant screaming at me is to make me a better officer and I bought that for the first seven hundred times, but these last seven hundred times I'm starting to think that maybe you have a chip on your shoulder.”

                Rei scoffed. “A chip on my shoulder?”

                “Yes,” Kio nodded. “You're afraid that if I fail, you fail. Again.”

                Rei blinked.

                “Yeah, Commander. I know your history,” Kio explained. “Couldn't cut it with security because of your anger management issues, then some nit-wit admiral throws you on the Sisko as a councilor?” Kio laughed, causing Rei to turn semi red with anger. “Sounds more like bad comedy fiction than reality to me.”

                Kio looked down at her bloodied hand. “Oh, and don't be lecturing me about getting emotional after a traumatic event. I know someone locked themselves in their room and wouldn't come out after their boyfriend died.”

                “HOW?” Rei yelled.

                “Captain's logs are pretty public if you know where to look,” Kio smirked.

                Rei was incensed and she was not about to have one of her subordinates speak to her in such an insolent manner. Rei grabbed Kio by the neck, raised her up and slammed her against the bulkhead. Kio's feet were about a quarter meter off the ground as Rei had her at eye level.

                Kio gasped for air as Rei growled at her. “You listen to me. The only reason I am not having you thrown in the brig right now is because I need you to do your job. If you cannot do it, I expect a letter of resignation on my desk within the hour.”

                Anthony, who was wondering what the commotion was, walked around the corner. “Commander!”

                Rei looked to him and let Kio go, allowing her to drop to the ground. Rei squatted down to her. “And if you ever speak to me in a way that disrespects my rank again, I WILL have you tossed in the brig, regardless of how much we need you. Is that understood, Chief Warrant Officer?”

                Kio looked up at Rei with a grin. “Yes, Commander.”

                Rei stood and stormed off past Anthony who ran over to Kio. “Fuck, Kio, what did you say to her?” he asked, as he helped her up.

                Kio just laughed.

                “Damn, your neck,” Anthony noticed bruises starting to form, showing Rei's impressive grip. “She can't do that; we should tell Captain Sao-”

                “Don't worry about it,” Kio interrupted, taking Anthony's hand with her free one. “She was being a bitch; I was being a bitch. Karma.”

                Anthony did not say anything as he was drug off by Kio.

                The clanging of the boots is almost hypnotic as Ranma, Larson and Rei step in unison down the corridor of deck sixteen on the U.S.S. Salvation towards the brig. All three of them had been waiting for this moment for over an hour, but each agreed to go together, and each had been busy up until now.

                Once they finally reached the room, Ranma pushed a buzzer to alert the officer inside of their presence. Once the guard saw them on the monitor, he opened the door, and the trio again began their synchronized marching past several empty cells to D-4.

                Outside of it stood two security officers, both armed with rifles, and one guard in the control room keeping an eye on things. Ranma nodded to the guard in the control room, who acknowledged the silent order and lowered the force-field.

                Inside of D-4, the Salvation's lone prisoner, Salek, opened his eyes from his meditation and allowed a smug grin to creep across his face.

                “Admiral Larson,” he mused. “So, this is where you've been keeping yourself?”

                “Salek,” Larson dryly replied.

                Salek turned to Ranma. Again, with the same smug grin, he taunted. “Captain again, eh?”

                “Yes,” Ranma glared. “You killed the one you replaced me with.”

                “Hm,” Salek pondered. “I am not sure what you mean by that. I've not killed anyone. I'm merely an... what's the Earth term? Office cat?”

                Ranma shuddered. Larson spat. “Cut the crap, Salek. You and I know very well that you're the one who ordered the attack on the ships sent to rescue the Sisko. You ordered the attack on the LDF base. You ordered the attack on the Defiant.”

                “I have no such authority to do any of those things,” Salek retorted. “I think you likely have that war criminal on board your ship if I'm not mistaken. Likely in much more hospitable accommodations than I am in.”

                “Who is your contact in the Federation?” Larson asked.

                “I am a Vulcan minister,” Salek replied. “I was in contact with many people within your government.”

                Larson shook his head and turned to Ranma. “Come on.”

                Ranma nodded to the control room, silently ordering the guard to raise the force-field. As the group walked out of the brig, both Ranma and Rei had a tough time keeping up with Larson.

                “We need to do a full interrogation of him,” Larson instructed.

                Ranma nodded. “Got it. Commander, get to it.”

                “Aye,” Rei replied, beginning to turn.

                “Belay that,” Larson interjected, stopping.

                Both Rei and Ranma stopped as well. “Sir?” they both asked.

                “I want Commander Gosnell to do it.”

                “Makoto?” Rei asked.

                Ranma shook his head. “With all due respect sir, I have to object.”

                “Ranma, she has knowledge and experience in using advanced interrogation techniques that are effective and efficient,” Larson explained.

                Ranma nodded. “And that is exactly why I am objecting.”

                “Time is not something we have a lot of here, Captain,” Larson noted.

                Ranma did not care for it when Larson used his rank to address him, as it meant he was not pleased with him. However, Ranma had every intention of standing his ground on this issue.

                “Admiral, before Commander Gosnell came aboard my ship, she used her 'advanced interrogation techniques' on my first officer. Shampoo was nearly killed. The physical damage took weeks to heal and only Shampoo can tell you if the psychological damage has ever healed.

                “I want that bastard to talk as much as the next guy. He's harmed me in more ways than one and for some reason has made it his life's work to destroy mine. But I will not stand by and allow Federation ideals and principles to be destroyed in an attempt to save it.”

                Ranma and Larson stared at each other for a good minute before Larson finally relented and sighed. “With no offense to Commander Hino, she is still a better interrogator.”

                “Then they can both do it,” Ranma smiled and turned to Rei. “On the job training.”

                Rei avoided saying something she would later regret and nodded. “Aye sir.”

                Rei did not like this room one bit. She knew exactly what the Romulans used this room for. Exactly what Makoto and Larson were planning on using it for. Luckily, Captain Saotome talked them out of it.

                Or so she thought.

                The rear door to the room slid open and a blind-folded Salek was led in by two security officers, followed by Makoto.

                “I'll call for you when we're done,” Makoto told them.

                “Yes ma'am.”

                The pair walked out, and the door slid shut. Makoto sat Salek down on the and restrained his hands and his feet.

                “This should be interesting,” Salek said.

                “It's only to make sure you don't run away,” Makoto stated.

                “Where would I go?” Salek asked.

                “Out an airlock,” Makoto replied. “If you die, then we'll never find out who you're working with.”

                “If I was going to kill myself, don't you think it would have been logical for me to have done it already?”

                Makoto removed Salek's blindfold and shrugged. “Perhaps you didn't think we'd actually catch you, since you thought we were still marooned halfway across the quadrant?”

                “That whole thing was a tragedy,” Salek noted.

                “Indeed,” Makoto replied. “I lost some good people. Did you know we landed in the middle of some planet's holy war?”

                “I hadn't heard.”

                “No, I guess not. I'll send my logs to the brig when we're done, so you have something to read,” Makoto smiled as she activated the recorder. “Salvation, Chief of Security interrogation log, Stardate... uh...” She looked to Rei.

                Rei looked at her PADD. “61223.1.”

                “61223.1,” Makoto repeated. “Subject, former Vulcan Intelligence Minister Salek.”

                “Former?” Salek asked.

                “Welp,” Makoto said, pulling up a chair and sitting in it, next to Salek. “Once you admit to masterminding all these murders and everything, I don't see you holding your position for very long. That is if they don't summarily execute you.”

                “It would be illogical for me to admit to things I did not do.”

                Makoto nodded. “Oh, I agree. And I encourage you not to lie to me. It will save us both time and grief.”

                Makoto stood and walked over to a table. She picked up a couple of electrodes and attached one to Salek's head and one to his midsection. “These are just bio monitors. I'm just going to watch your vital signs as we chat, kay?”

                “A lie detector?” Salek asked.

                Makoto grinned. “You're a spy. And a Vulcan. What good would a lie detector do me?” Makoto walked back over to the table and picked up a towel. She then placed it over Salek's face.

                “What are you doing?” Rei asked.

                “Interrogating,” Makoto replied as she moved over to the room’s replicator. “Water, two cubic meters, two degrees.”

                “Wait...” Rei said, standing.

                The replicator complied and before Rei could do anything, Makoto had dropped the chair to where it was now positioned flat, at an angle with Salek's head downwards. Makoto took the bucket of water and poured it, slowly, on Salek.

                The Vulcan coughed and squirmed. Rei ran over, but Makoto pushed her away. “WHO ORDERED THE ASSAULT ON THE LDF BASE?”

                The monitors watching Salek's bio signs began to fluctuate rapidly. Makoto ignored them and continued to pour until the bucket was empty.

                “WHO ORDERED THE SISKO'S ENGINES TAMPERED WITH?” she barked.

                “Goddamn it Makoto!” Rei yelled, reaching past her, and ripping the towel from Salek's face, allowing him to breathe freely again.

                Makoto looked to Rei and scowled. “What are you doing?”

                “What the hell are you doing? The Captain specifically said no pain compliance.”

                Makoto rolled her eyes. “Waterboarding doesn't 'hurt' it just simulates drowning.”

                Rei threw her arms up in frustration. “Like hell it doesn't hurt. Look at him! Look at that!” She points to the bio monitors, which are showing all red.

                “Do you want to stop a war or not?” Makoto snapped.

                “Of course I do.”

                “Then either help me or get the hell out of my way.”

                Rei watched Makoto go back towards the table. Rei closed her eyes for a moment, confident she was making the right decision. “Makoto, please step away from the prisoner.”

                Makoto turned from placing a new towel on Salek to find herself staring at the business end of Rei's phaser.

                “You have to be kidding me.”

                “Please step away from the prisoner,” Rei repeated.

                “Rei do not do this,” Makoto said.

                “Dammit, Makoto. I cannot let you keep doing what you're doing.”

                “WE HAVE TO SAVE THE FEDERATION! AT ANY COST!”

                “Even if that cost is destruction?” a voice called out.

                Both women turned to see Shampoo standing at the rear door.

                “Commander,” Rei acknowledged.

                “Lower your weapon,” Shampoo ordered.

                Rei nodded and lowered her phaser. Shampoo walked over and looked at the still coughing Salek. “Shampoo know what it like to be in that position,” she said as she looked up at Makoto. “You remember what you told me?”

                Makoto did remember. “Yes.”

                “You told me what you felt about Section 31 and what they did? All the things you did?”

                Makoto nodded.

                Shampoo pulled the towel off Salek and tossed it to Makoto. “Then you tell Shampoo how you revert back into the monster they made? Why you let them do that to you?”

                Makoto tossed the towel to the deck. “Because it's necessary.”

                “Like it was necessary to do to Shampoo? To do to Usagi?” Shampoo asked.

                Makoto shook her head. “Those were different time, different circumstances... I was a different person.”

                Shampoo pointed to Salek. “It look same to Shampoo.”

                Makoto sighed in frustration. “Commander, people can and will die if we don't get information.”

                “Sometimes death is the price for honor and integrity,” Shampoo countered. “You say you wish to save the Federation?”

                Makoto nodded.

                “Do you wish to live in a Federation that accepts this?” Shampoo once again pointed at Salek. “There reason Section 31 lives in shadows. If they come into light, we all be sick from seeing how ugly we really are.”

                Shampoo turned and headed back to the door.

                “Commander,” Makoto called out. Shampoo stopped but did not turn around. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

                “Desperation for weak,” Shampoo replied as she walked out the door.

                Rei turned to Makoto. “Well?”

                Makoto shook her head. “You do it,” Makoto grumbled as she stormed over to a chair and sat down. Rei sighed as she reconfigured the chair back into ‘chair’ mode.

-----

                “Why exactly have the first twenty minutes of the interrogation been deleted?” Ranma asked.

                Rei looked to Makoto, then back to Ranma. “That's my fault, sir. We switched and I was trying to start my logging and I accidentally deleted her log instead of making a continuation.”

                Ranma nodded. “Okay. Good official reason. And the real reason would be?”

                “Sir?” Rei asked.

                Ranma leaned back in his office chair and sighed. “I have no intention of believing that all of Commander Gosnell's interrogation time just 'happened' to 'accidentally' get deleted.”

                Ranma stood and walked over to the two women. “The less you lie to me, the less angry I will be when I have a forensics team pull the log off the computer core and watch it.”

                Makoto sighed. “I was instructed by Admiral Larson to disregard your order and use...”

                “That's enough,” Ranma interrupted. “Commander Hino, please wait outside.”

                Rei nodded. “Aye.” Rei quickly scurried out the door.

                Makoto turned to Ranma. “Captain, if I may-”

                “Nope,” Ranma replied, moving towards his desk. He pulled out a PADD and began to type some things on it.

                “Captain.”

                Ranma shook his head and put his finger on his lip to shush Makoto. She remained silent till Ranma finished, at which point he slid the PADD across the desk, allowing it to stop in front of her.

                “Commander, I am the captain of this ship. Admiral Larson is not. Furthermore, so long as you serve as my chief tactical officer and head of security you work for me and not Section 31. However, it seems that you may not be aware of, or at least not care for that.”

                Makoto picked up the PADD and began to look at it. “This is...”

                Ranma nodded. “Yup. Make your choice. Work for me or get the hell off my ship.”

                Makoto was silent for a moment before she finally spoke. “Captain...”

                Ranma nodded, finally allowing her to say her peace.

                “Captain, of course I want to stay with this crew. I thought what I was doing was right, but I realize you are her captain, and I am sorry I disobeyed you.”

                Ranma nodded, accepting her apology. “Very well. Understand though, I am very tired of things going on behind my back and if I learn that any more of my orders are disobeyed, not only will you no longer be a member of my crew, but you will also be spending the rest of our time in space in the brig. Is that understood, Commander?”

                “Yes sir,” Makoto nodded, with a frown. Almost two years of trust, gone in an instant. Makoto had not felt this heartbroken in a long, long time.

                “Dismissed,” Ranma stated, turning towards his computer.

                Makoto spun around and walked out of Ranma's office. She looked to Rei for a moment. “Yup. I fucked up good,” she said as she headed towards the tactical station.

                Shampoo looked on from the captain's chair as Rei walked into Ranma's office. Larson, who was monitoring communications from Kaii's still commandeered station, slowly crept over to Makoto's station.

                “What did he say to you?” Larson quietly asked.

                “I'd rather not discuss it,” Makoto replied.

                Lt. Jansen, from the security station, quickly messaged Shampoo of the exchange going on behind her. She in turn sent Ranma a message.

                “I'd rather you did,” Larson prodded.

                “Sir, please,” Makoto pleaded.

                “Commander.”

                Ranma stormed out of his office and onto the bridge. “Admiral, is there something you needed?”

                Larson, rather put off by Ranma's attitude towards him, shook his head. “No, Captain. I was just speaking to the Commander here.”

                “Is there something security or tactical related that I should know about?” Ranma asked.

                If you could measure tension in gigawatts, right now you could send a DeLorean back to 1985. The entire bridge crew was glued to the exchange, wondering which officer would attack the other one first.

                “Do you have a problem, Captain?” Larson asked.

                “Yes,” Ranma nodded. “I do. I have an Admiral on board who seems to forget that he's no longer a Section 31 operative and that I am this crew's captain, and my orders are final, not his.”

                Everyone had to do their best to restrain themselves from gasping. Larson began to steam. “Captain, let's speak in private.”

                “That's not necessary, sir,” Ranma replied. “Just leave my crew alone and we'll speak at the next briefing.”

                Ranma turned to walk back into his office.

                “No, we won't,” Larson growled. “Captain, you are relieved from duty.” Larson turned to Shampoo. “Commander, you have the ship, Commander Gosnell, have the Captain escorted to his quarters.”

                Everyone froze.

                Everyone except Ranma.

                “No need to relieve me, I quit.” He pulled off his communicator and tossed it at Larson. “And I can find my own quarters.”

                Shampoo nodded, pulled off her communicator and tossed it to Larson and followed Ranma into the turbolift.

                Rei followed suit, followed by Jansen, Minako, Ikuhara the helmsman, Kaii, Usagi, the two security officers on the bridge and finally Makoto. Once the turbolift doors closed, Larson found himself alone on the bridge with eleven communicators in his hands.

                It did not take long. Within an hour, Larson found his mailbox full of 391 letters of resignation. One for every member of the Salvation crew that did not throw their communicator at Larson on the bridge an hour ago.

                Larson was lucky the Infinity was there to send security down to secure the prisoners on the planet, otherwise he was unsure what he would have done.

                The gray-haired admiral, who felt his hair getting grayer by the moment was now the lone Starfleet officer on the Romulan warship. Ranma and his crew had all transported down to the planet, taking over some of the Vulcan's habitation modules as their own.

                He had a plan, but first he was going to have to discuss it with his counterpart.

                He knew that was going to be hard.

                Especially convincing him to stay, and not join the rest.

                Larson sighed and brought up the communications system. “Genma.”

                “Scott,” Genma replied. “What's going on? Why did we need to send security down? Is there a problem?”

                Larson laughed. “You could say that.”

                Genma cocked his head slightly. “I am not following...”

                “There has been a reverse mutiny of sorts over here,” Larson sighed.

                “A 'reverse mutiny’?” Genma blinked. “What the hell is a reverse mutiny?”

                “Everyone quit,” Larson barked.

                “Everyone?!” Genma exclaimed.

                Larson nodded. “With the exception of Saanik and his girlfriend, and Salek down in the brig, I am alone on this ship.”

                “Good God, Scott, what happened?”

                Larson bit his lip. This was going to be the tough part. Genma was an excellent admiral and a valued Starfleet officer, but he had a sinking feeling that first and foremost, he was a father.

                “I attempted to remove Captain Saotome from command.”

                There was a moment of silence while Genma thought about that statement. “I see,” he finally responded. “Why?”

                Larson chose his words carefully from this point forwards. “I believed he was being insubordinate.”

                Genma nodded. “Was he?”

                Larson sighed. “He was disrespectful, blatantly undermining me in front of the-”

                “Scott, he's always looked up to you,” Genma interrupted. “I have a hard time believing that he would be disrespectful to you in anyway...” Genma trailed off for a moment. “But...”

                “But?” Larson asked, a less than cordial tone surfacing in his voice.

                “Admiral,” Genma began. Larson leaned back, realizing that Genma was falling into serious business mode if the two friends had fallen from first names to ranks. “Ranma can be quite, eh, blunt,” Genma acknowledged.

                “His 'bluntness' as you put it included him disregarding my instructions.”

                “Oh?” Genma asked, growing concerned.

                Larson nodded. “I gave specific instructions to Commander Kino-Gosnell regarding the interrogation of Salek and he-”

                Genma again interjected. “You were micromanaging his crew? No wonder he was upset.”

                Larson shook his head. “The interrogation of the prisoner falls out of his pay grade.”

                “He has several officers trained for field interrogations.”

                “Not the way 'I' wanted him interrogated,” Larson admitted.

                Genma sighed. “I really don't want to know any more about that.”

                Larson shook his head. “The point is that I am in charge of this mission, and I don't need him undermining my decisions.”

                “Admiral, our job is to set a goal for our captains to complete. How the complete it is up to them, but as long as they get it done, in the time we give them, then it's not really our place to interfere,” Genma said, rubbing his head.

                Larson brushed his hand through his beard and sighed. “I need crew from the Infinity to take over this ship.”

                “Sir, you need Ranma.”

                “Genma, I know he's your son and you want to see him succeed, but I need to know I have someone who will execute my orders.”

                Genma shook his head. “This has nothing to do with him being my son, Admiral. And has he not executed your orders to a tee? Do we not have Saanik? Do we not have Salek? Are we not growing closer and closer to ripping this conspiracy apart?”

                Larson did not respond.

                “Scott, I will try and get as many crew as I can from this ship for you, but to do so, I will have to tell Ukyo what happened. I can assure you she will join Ranma on the planet. Her senior staff will likely go with her. You will end up with two ships staffed by mid-level officers flying into God knows what.”

                Genma looked at the planet on the Infinity's viewscreen. “And quite frankly, you will only have one admiral with you as well.”

                Larson sighed. “You think I should just let him question everything I say or do?”

                “That's part of his job,” Genma nodded. “And it's part of yours to snap him back into line and remind him of the goal.”

                Larson looked at the planet on the Salvation's viewscreen. “Well, what do I do about that?”

                “I'll go talk to him,” Genma said.

                Larson shook his head. “No, I will. But if you wouldn't mind coming over here so I don't get locked out.”

                Genma smiled and nodded.

                Ranma leaned back and sighed deeply as he thought about the decision that not only he, but every single member of his ship, had ended up making. A decision that apparently left them, at least for now, marooned again on a hostile world.

                Ranma took some solace that at least this time he did not have any technology that the natives would want to steal.

                The Salvation crew had commandeered one of the few actual mining complexes on the planet, the NEO forces having driven out the Vulcan miners before the group transported down.

                Because of the inhospitably of the planet, there were several habitation modules attached to the complex giving the crew a place to live until they were confident that the warships overhead were gone.

                At that point they planned to steal the Vulcan mining transports and make way to nearby Ferengi space, and from there, charter transportation to their individual homes.

                The plan seemed simple enough, assuming they did not get shot down by Vulcans who realized who they were, or by a still angry Admiral Larson.

                Akane walked up to Ranma and smiled at him. Ranma returned the smile. Akane's smile had developed the power to pull Ranma from the farthest reaches of depression, rage, and sadness.

                “I am still so very confused,” Ranma admitted.

                “What about?” Akane asked, setting down a plate of some weird Vulcan food in front of Ranma before sitting across from him with her own plate.

                Ranma poked at it for a moment before looking at Akane again. “Just that I could have every considered you 'uncute'.”

                Akane chuckled. “You were a lot stupider then.”

                Ranma took a bite of the dish. He did not hate it. That is not to say he liked it, but he could eat it. “Obviously, I was,” he agreed.

                The pair ate a moment before there was a knock on the door. Akane began to stand before Ranma waved her off. “I'll get it,” he smiled.

                Akane nodded and continued to eat, slowly with a look of disgust on her face. She obviously was a little less forgiving of the Vulcan dish than Ranma was.

                The former captain walked to the door. He peaked out the window into the dimly lit passageway to see one of the security officers, Shampoo, and him.

                “Larson?” Ranma asked no one.

                Akane turned.

                Ranma opened the door. Ranma acknowledged the security officer and Shampoo before turning to the admiral. “Admiral Larson.”

                “Hello,” Larson smiled. “May I speak with you?”

                Ranma nodded and invited Larson in. Shampoo followed him in a bit before Larson turned to her.

                “Commander, I would like to speak to Captain Saotome alone, if you don't mind.”

                Shampoo looked to Ranma for support but got very little. “Just give us a moment, please,” Ranma instructed her.

                Shampoo sighed. “Shampoo be with Akane.” She snarled. Akane blinked in surprise as Shampoo walked over and sat down across from her, beginning to eat from Ranma's dish, despite not liking it much more than Akane did.

                Ranma shook his head and lead Larson into another room.

                “Nice place you found.” Larson acknowledged.

                Ranma shrugged. “I suppose, if you're a miner.”

                The pair walked to a table and sat down. Larson hemmed and hawed for a minute or two, frustrating Ranma quite a bit before finally saying any full words.

                “Yeah, Ranma...” Larson stammered. “I am sorry.”

                Ranma was caught off guard by this. “You are?”

                The retort both upset Larson and Ranma. That was not what Ranma should have, or wanted to say to him, but it was the (as his father said) blunt reaction Ranma was known for.

                Larson shook it off though and continued to speak. “Yes. While your disrespect for me and my position is not appreciated or welcome, I realized that I also disrespected you and your position.”

                Larson pulled Ranma's communicator out of his pocket, rubbed his thumb across it slowly and set it on the table. “I guess it just took something like this,” he paused and chuckled a bit, “Times four-oh-one, to realize how much.”

                Ranma looked down at his communicator, then slowly back to Larson. “A ship cannot have two captains.”

                “No, it cannot,” Larson acknowledged. “If you retract your resignation,” Larson smiled a bit, “and hopefully convince your crew to follow, I will continue my supervision of the mission from the Infinity, just to prove that I can stay out of your hair. She's better suited for that role anyway – I think Lt. Kaii was ready to stab me as well.”

                Ranma smirked as Larson stood and smiled. “You will get a bonus out of it as well. Your father will move over to the Salvation.”

                Ranma laughed derisively. “Bonus?”

                Larson chuckled as well. “Well, bonus for him, at least. He's missed you.”

                Ranma inhaled deeply before picking his communicator off the table and holding it in his hand. Finally, he nodded at Larson.

                “I don't like leaving a task unfinished.”

                Larson smiled. The pair walked out of the room to find Shampoo and Akane hastily eating, doing an unbelievably bad impersonation of two people who were not just eavesdropping.

                Ranma shook his head and smiled. “Shampoo, inform the crew. We're going back to work.”

                “Aye, Captain,” she beamed.

                True to his word, Larson did indeed move his operations to the Infinity. This was unfortunately proving to backfire on Ranma slightly as Larson was unwilling to discuss anything over ship to ship for fear of being monitored or located.

                So Ranma, Makoto and Rei made their way over to the Infinity after the two women spent another several hours with Salek.

                “So, have we learned anything, or is he still in denial?” Larson asked.

                Ranma looked at Makoto who shook her head.

                “He's more than willing to yap and yap about his mundane day to day activities as Minister of Intelligence,” Makoto groaned. “For the life of me I don't have a goddamned clue why anyone would want that boring-ass job.”

                Rei stifled a laughed before taking over. “He did acknowledge that he's gone to Earth a couple of times, which we didn't know if that was the norm for him or not.”

                Larson shook his head. “Not normally.”

                Ranma looked at Larson. “He was there for my court martial.”

                Larson nodded. “Yes, but that was a...” Larson groaned, “special occasion for him. The Vulcan Intelligence Office normally handled things regarding threats to Vulcan proper and its outlying colonies and stations.”

                Larson brought up some information on the SitCon terminal. “Did he mention why?”

                “Business,” both women replied.

                Larson read some information before replying. “He apparently destroyed the MoI's mainframe before fleeing Vulcan.”

                “Crashed the computer?” Ranma asked.

                Larson shook his head. “No. Fragged it. Blew up nearly the entire top level of the building.”

                “Hm,” Ranma replied.

                “We don't have time to keep listening to his auto-biography,” Larson said turning to Ranma.

                Ranma shook his head. Rei stepped forward, wanting to avoid where she feared this conversation was headed. “Sir, we can assume that this facility would have most if not all of the same information that the main MoI office had.”

                Larson turned to her. “You got to him in time?”

                Rei shrugged. “Well, the place wasn't blown apart.”

                Larson nodded and turned to Ranma. “You don't have enough people trained to pull all the records.”

                “I do,” Ukyo called from her seat at the CONN.

                Larson smiled. “Excellent. Assemble a combined forensics team and rip that place to shreds. Anything that can give us a clue of who Salek's contact on Earth is, even if it's just a bus pass.”

                “Aye,” both Ranma and Ukyo replied as they scurried off to get to work. Makoto stayed with Larson for a moment, while Rei waited by the turbolift. Larson turned to her.

                “What I did was wrong, sir,” she stated.

                “Which part?” Larson asked her.

                “All of it. Especially the part where I enlisted in 31. Please don't ask me to do anything else. Please.”

                Larson looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

                Makoto nodded quickly, then walked off to the turbolift with Rei.

                Larson sighed as his eyes followed her. “If only it was that simple,” he quietly whispered to himself.

                “This chatter makes no sense to me,” Admiral James acknowledged, looking at the intelligence report the young SI officer handed him.

                The SI admiral in Starfleet's war room nodded in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing. Unless there is something you want to tell me.”

                James glared at the admiral. “That's my question to you. You're the one who is usually all cloak and daggery.”

                The SI admiral chuckled.

                Another admiral, Robert Douglass walked into the room and lit up a cigarette. He inhaled deeply before walking over to James. James scowled at him. “You do realize that this is a no smoking building.”

                “Bah. If Section 31 can do it, so can I,” he replied, changing the subject. “Is it true what I have been hearing?”

                James nodded. “Apparently, assuming the Vulcans aren't just making shit up.”

                Douglass took the report from James and read over it. “What have the Romulans said?”

                James rolled his eyes. “They deny knowledge and report that none of their ships are unaccounted for.”

                “Did you tell them that we weren't mad?”

                James laughed. “Yes.”

                “And they still denied knowledge?”

                “Yup.”

                “Hrm.”

                “To hell with the Romulan ship,” The SI admiral barked. “I want to know where this mystery Starfleet ship came from and why it's not getting its ass back to Wolf 3-5-9 to assist the rest of the fleet.”

                “I'd also like to know where it got a cloak from,” James added.

                “Wait, it cloaks?” Douglass asked.

                Both James and the SI admiral nodded.

                “What was the registry?”

                James looked at his report. “NCC 100371, U.S.S. Infinity.”

                “Infinity?!”

                James looked at Douglass oddly, as did the SI admiral. “You know something we don't?” James finally asked.

                “That ship's construction was scrapped over three years ago.”

                The SI admiral pointed to the PADD Douglass was holding. “It blows up Vulcan ships pretty damned well for a partially constructed ship.”

                Douglass rolled his eyes and brought up some information on one of the viewers in the room. “I was only a vice-admiral at the time, but I oversaw the fleet she was going to be assigned to. We were going to construct five of her; Seneca Class ships.”

                “Seneca class? If she's the Infinity, does that mean there is another one out there?” James asked.

                “Assuming they kept the names, yes, it would seem so,” Douglass replied.

                “Who's in possession of these ships, and where were they built?” The SI admiral asked.

                “We had,” Douglass paused. “Perhaps still have, a shipyard in the Delta Quadrant.”

                “Yes, I know of it,” James stated. “Newfoundland Yards. They were shut down after the war.”

                The SI admiral sighed. “No, they weren't.”

                James shook his head. “You have got to be kidding me.”

                “There are only so many places you can build experimental ships,” the SI admiral complained. “We took that place over, but I don't remember seeing any of those in it.”

                “Well, regardless...” Douglass continued. “They apparently completed construction on at least the Infinity and gave her to someone.”

                “Can we account for all Starfleet officers?” James asked.

                “It will take a while, but probably.” Douglass replied.

                “There are over fifty million Starfleet officers and enlisted between the three branches!” The SI admiral exclaimed.

                “Which is why it will take a while!” Douglass shot back.

                “Some of them cannot be accounted for as well.”

                James put his hand up. “Look. All I want to know is who is in control of that ship.”

                “We are,” a female voice called out from the back of the room, causing the three admirals to jump.

                “For fucks sake, would you two at least knock or beam in or send down a warning before you do that,” James complained, grabbing his heart.

                “Maybe we can get them a cowbell,” The SI admiral grumbled.

                JC chuckled as his less amused female partner from earlier, NK, walked forward and pointed to the display of the Infinity on the viewer.

                “The Infinity and the Romulan ship with her are our only hope right now. You mustn't interfere with them.”

                “Who is on board?” Douglass asked.

                “I cannot tell you, because they would then be compromised.”

                JC nodded. “Trust us.”

                James rolled his eyes. “Really?”

                “You know we work for the same goal, even if we do work in different ways,” JC replied.

                “They need to be more effective,” Douglass growled. “The Vulcans obliterated three of our outposts.”

                “Their task right now is not to save three outposts, but the entire Federation,” NK replied.

                James exhaled deeply before JC turned to him. “Please, Admiral, continue to do what you can to hold off the invasion and we will do our part.”

                James nodded. The two Section 31 agents walked back towards the rear door. James watched the pair walk out and turned to the other two admirals. “Well, I guess that is one mystery solved.”

                “Sort of,” Douglass scoffed.

                The SI admiral chuckled as James' communicator started to beep.

                “This is James,” he answered.

                “Sir, the Council needs to see you ASAP,” an unnamed aide informed him.

                “Ah jeeze,” James groaned. “Okay, thanks.” James turned to the pair. “I guess I will be back later, unless of course this is my mandatory retirement notice, which at this point I would not necessarily refuse.”

                The two other admirals laughed as James initiated a site-to-site transport.

-----

                “You say you're from Illinois?” JC asked the young, blonde Infinity engineer who was assisting him on one of the Vulcan facility's many computer cores.

                “Mmhm,” she replied, never looking up from her PADD. It was the third time JC had attempted to engage her in small talk, and from the way it was starting it seemed like the third time that he would fail.

                “I'm from Illinois too. Springfield,” he told her as he began a search string. “Too humid for me though.”

                “Yup,” she replied.

                JC sighed. Apparently, what he heard about female computer science majors was true.

                “They didn't seem to have initiated any kind of defensive measures,” she noted. “Are all your file allocation tables intact?”

                JC wanted to reply with a smug remark but assumed both the lieutenant he was working with and his wife would probably end up punching him. “Yes.”

                “Okay. I'm beginning a download. They can search faster on board.”

                “Okay,” JC answered, determined to find out if she disliked one-word answers as much as he did.

                Apparently, she didn't as she quickly moved on to a second terminal. JC quickly scurried behind her.

                “Oh, this system is encrypted,” she smiled.

                “They're all encrypted,” JC groaned.

                “Not like this one,” she tapped her communicator. “Dawson to LaBond.”

                “Go ahead,” a male on the other end replied.

                “Vic, I got a good one for you, can you come in here?”

                “Yeah, be right there.”

                JC simmered slightly. So, she can be friendly, he thought to himself. But only to other computer geeks.

                A minute or two passed before another of the Infinity crew came into the room. He walked up to the terminal and began to look at the read out on the PADD.

                “Damn, Becca,” he smiled at the young lieutenant. “This thing is wrapped up good. You might have found the gold mine here.”

                JC blinked.

                “Can you crack it?” she asked.

                “Of course I can!” Vic gloated before beginning to type on the terminal. JC then angrily watched as the pair chatted and laughed while Vic typed away on the terminal. The system occasionally buzzed at him, but for the most part he was met with compliant beeps and pats on his bald head from Becca.

                “Is there anything I can do?” JC finally asked.

                “Could you get me some water?” Vic asked, never looking up.

                JC just stared at him for a moment, before turning towards the door.

                “Me too, please,” Becca called out.

                “Yeah, I'll get your water, you shiny headed goon,” JC mumbled quietly to himself as he slowly shuffled out the door to find a working replicator.

-----

                <Nifty Star Trek Romulan Doorbell Sound>

                Ranma leaned up from the couch he was lying on in his quarters and opened his eyes. He slowly looked towards the door and yawned before speaking. “Come in,” he groggily requested.

                The door slid open and Saanik walked in. Ranma slid his feet off the couch and quickly stood. Dressed only in his uniform pants and sleeveless gray shirt, he quickly went to get his jacket, but was waved off by Saanik.

                “I am sorry to disturb you, Captain. I can come back later.”

                Ranma shook his head and motioned for Saanik to sit in one of the recliners that furnished the Captain's quarters on the Talon class cruiser. “A visit from you is never disturbing, Minister.”

                Saanik smiled and sat down. Ranma moved to the replicator and ordered a tea. “Can I get you anything?”

                “No, thank you.”

                Ranma picked up his glass and sat across from Saanik. Saanik looked at Ranma's couch, then back to Ranma. “I woke you.”

                Ranma shrugged. “I was just catching a quick nap. I am sure I can catch another one later,” Ranma smiled reassuringly. He had not slept much, and was trying to nap when he could, but of course was not willing to put off any time to speak with the Defense Minister.

                “What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

                Saanik leaned forward a bit. “Have you learned anything?”

                Ranma shook his head. “Not much. Salek is a stone wall and refuses to tell us anything that helps us. Though if you ever need a manual on the day-to-day routine of a Vulcan office drone, I am sure my interrogators can write it for you.”

                Saanik nodded. “Salek maybe a traitor, but he is good at what he does. Getting information from him will be hard.”

                “I don't expect we will get any information from him,” Ranma conceded.

                Saanik paused for a moment. “Vulcans are like humans physically and to an extent psychologically. Perhaps-”

                “If you are suggesting what I think you are suggesting, then you have wasted a trip down here.” Ranma sternly stated. “I will not use any kind of 'enhanced' interrogation techniques on him, even if it means failing.”

                Saanik nodded. “Larson told me you would say that.”

                “Larson asked you to ask me?”

                Saanik shook his head. “No, I suggested it to Admiral Larson before coming to you. However, he told me that it was your decision.”

                Ranma was impressed. He was curious too though. “Do you think I am wrong? Do you think putting my ethics above the good of the Federation is a bad idea?”

                “Logic points to a different Federation, regardless of the outcome. However, the one thing that will continue to allow the Federation to exist, even with the other issues that will have to be dealt with is our morals and our values.”

                Saanik leaned forward and put his hand on Ranma's knee for a moment. “People like you are why the Federation survives, even though there are people like Salek, and even people like me.”

                Ranma thought about this as Saanik leaned back. “I have continued to try and think about Salek, to try and be more help. I do recall that Salek went to Earth quite often, and it annoyed me to no end as he always demanded one of my ships for an escort.”

                Ranma nodded. “He admitted that he visited Earth a few times for 'business.'”

                Saanik shook his head. “No, not a few times, Captain. Hundreds. Especially over the last year.”

                Ranma drank some more of his tea as he took this in. “What would he be doing there?”

                “The ship logs would only have records of him going to orbit. Who he visited would have to come from Starfleet, or his own logs.”

                Ranma nodded. “We have teams ripping the planet apart now.”

                “You won't find much here. Some of the main MoI database is mirrored, but any useful logs of his transiting would be on the main server on Vulcan.”

                “Salek destroyed that.”

                “I see.”

                “Bridge to Captain Saotome,” Shampoo's voice called.

                Ranma tapped his communicator. “Go ahead.”

                “Admiral Larson needs to see you, quickly.”

                “On my way,” Ranma looks at Saanik. “I need to go.”

                Saanik stands with Ranma. “Thank you for your time, Captain.”

                Ranma nods as he grabs his jacket and walks with Saanik to the doorway. “Thank you, Minister, for the information.”

-----

                James appeared in the Federation Council room to see a very distraught group of council members. James eyed the three empty chairs, normally filled by the Vulcan members, then turned to the council president.

                “You folks needed me?” he asked.

                “Yes, Admiral,” the Council President stated. “Why are you not keeping us advised on Vulcan fleet movements?”

                “You mean the attacks?” he asked. “I sent reports-”

                “No, I mean the increasing number of ships flowing into the space surrounding Vulcan,” the President snapped.

                “I am not exactly sure what there is to tell you. They see us building up forces, they're trying to build up forces-”

                “Admiral, we cannot allow them to mount a counter offensive,” Young called out from his seat. “If they attack our forces before they are fully assembled-”

                “They will be slaughtered,” James interrupted. “The Vulcan fleet is no match for our current fleet assembled at Wolf 3-5-9 nor will it be for the fully assembled fleet.”

                “Mr. Young disagrees,” the President replied.

                “Well, with all due respect to Mr. Young, he is not the one here with 37 years of military experience,” James countered.

                “Admiral, a dozen Vulcan cruisers scared away your task force sent to secure one Vulcan colony,” Young smugly stated.

                “Those were smaller ships with a single battleship for support. The reclamation fleet as it is right now has eight Sovereign class battleships with five more less than a day out. There are several other Galaxy and Nebula class battleships with the group as well,” James growled.

                “Look,” the President interjected. “I didn't call you here for a ship roster update.”

                “Then what did you call me here for?” James asked.

                “Attack now,” Young demanded.

                “We don't have the occupation forces ready yet,” James lied.

                “You're lying,” Young smiled. “I know for a fact that you're hiding two million LDF forces near Andoria.”

                The President looked at James. “Is this true?”

                “We cannot risk having our ground forces compromised if the main fleet were to be.”

                “I thought you said the main fleet was invincible?” Young smirked, pleased with his work so far.

                “There are more than just the Vulcans out there you planet bound jackass,” James growled.

                “ADMIRAL!” The President barked. Young had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing. The President turned to the group. “All in favor of moving Operation Reclamation up?”

                “Aye,” everyone stated.

                “Opposed?”

                Silence.

                The President banged his gavel. He looked at James. “I want boots on Vulcan soil within 36 hours.”

                James stood there for a minute before snapping to attention. “Yes sir,” he said before he quickly transported out.

-----

                Larson, Genma, Ranma, Ukyo, JC, Makoto, and Rei all gathered around SitCon to discuss the information gathered from the facility slowly rotating below them. Like Saanik said, most of it was useless, however not all of it.

                “The forensics team from the Infinity managed to break the encryption on a pretty solid database and found something very interesting,” Larson smiled.

                “Oh?” Ranma asked.

                “Look familiar?” Larson pulled up a bank of numbers. Everyone examined them for a moment. While most of the group simply looked at the with blank stares, JC began to jump up and down and point.

                “THE SERIAL NUMBERS!!!” he screamed.

                “You got it,” Larson confirmed.

                “From that junk that was on the Sisko's engines?!” Ranma asked.

                Larson nodded. “We have established a solid link with the MoI.”

                “Holy shit,” JC smiled. “Way to go, shiny headed goon.”

                The group turned to JC who waved them off. Ranma turned to Larson, still concerned. “We still don't have a link to the Federation or to any of the other stuff that has been happening.”

                Larson sighed. “No, we don't.”

                “Though...” Ranma started, remembering his conversation with Saanik. “Minister Saanik said that Salek did visit Earth often.”

                “Salek admitted to that,” Makoto stated.

                “Well, Saanik said 'often', especially since this stuff started happening,” Ranma further clarified.

                “Hrm,” Larson mumbled as he started typing some things into the console. “I'm trying to get some transport logs. Perhaps we can see where he went.”

                The group nodded and waited.

                And waited...

                And waited...

                “Jeeze,” Ranma finally said.

                “Well, we are getting a year’s worth of transporter logs,” Larson explained. “And we're not exactly getting them through official channels.”

                Ranma nodded in understanding as the group waited some more.

                Finally, the console beeped. Larson transferred the logs over to Genma's side as he continued to read a message that was included with the logs.

                Ranma watched Larson read the message. The look crossing Larson's face was not a good one. Ranma looked to Ukyo and the others who could also see the upset expression on the admiral's face.

                “Something wrong?” Ranma finally asked.

                “Very,” Larson acknowledged. “The Council has ordered Starfleet to push up the attack.” Larson turned to Ranma. “We have 36 hours.”

                Ranma turned to his father. “Anything?”

                “A ton of entries for Salek beaming down to the Federation building in Paris.” Genma replied.

                “Paris is where the Council and the President's office is,” Larson explained. “The General Assembly meets in Geneva.”

                “Who would he know on the council?” Makoto asked.

                Larson slammed his fist down. “Young.”

                Ranma knew that name. “He was one of the ones at my court martial too, wasn't he?”

                Larson nodded looked to Ukyo. “Have your teams look for a connection.” He turned to Ranma. “See what he knows about Young.”

                Everyone turned to do their jobs. As the Salvation group approached the turbolift, Larson called out to them.

                “The world ends in a day and a half, people.”

                Ranma was growing quite frustrated – no, pissed off at Salek's circular stonewalling. He freely admitted that he knew Councilman Young. Of course, that was no help. Ranma knew that before he even had Salek in the brig.

                What he did not know is how deep their relationship went, and that is exactly what Salek wasn't telling them.

                Ranma was angry at his own ethical standards as well. He quite possibly could end this right now if he just let Makoto have her way with Salek, but then he of course would have to wonder if he would be able to live with himself afterwards.

                That's assuming he wasn't (again) court martialed and jailed for breaching about a dozen Starfleet regulations and treaties regarding the treatment of prisoners.

                Ranma sighed exasperatedly as Rei began her turn yelling at Salek as he watched from the brig's control room. He turned when he saw the door open and Saanik and T'Pah standing there.

                Saanik nodded to the guard at the door to allow them in. Both walked in, with only Saanik proceeding into the control room.

                “Any luck?” Saanik asked.

                Ranma shook his head. “No. And it's getting worse. Starfleet has moved up the timeline on their assault.”

                Saanik paused. “That is, unfortunate.”

                “Tell me about it,” Ranma groaned, continuing to watch the interrogation.

                “Captain, I can be of more assistance,” Saanik offered.

                Ranma turned to him. “How?”

                “I can meld with him. I can get the information from him that way.”

                Ranma thought back to his mind meld with Saanik. “What is the risk?”

                “All things considered, negligible.”

                “That isn't what I asked.”

                Saanik sighed. “Both Salek and I may be killed from it. Normally I would be the only one at risk, but because of Salek's strong mind, I will have probe hard to get him to confess.”

                Ranma shook his head. “I can't allow that.”

                Saanik nodded. “Very well then. I accept your decision.”

                Ranma turned back towards the interrogation. Saanik turned towards T'Pah and nodded at her. She slowly began walking towards the control room. Saanik, quickly and very stealthfully, grabbed Ranma's shoulder, incapacitating him with a Vulcan nerve pinch.

                The guard, standing with them, began to turn, but was also quickly incapacitated by Saanik and his neck pinch.

                Saanik then grabbed both Ranma's and the guard's phasers, handing one to T'Pah. T'Pah walked out of the control room as Saanik deactivated the force-field on Salek's cell.

                Upon hearing the force-field deactivate, both Rei and Makoto turned, only to be quickly stunned by T'Pah.

                “Did you finally get your loyalties straight?” Salek asked.

                “My loyalties have always been straight,” Saanik stated, sealing the brig. He then walked into Salek's cell and helped T'Pah drag Makoto and Rei out into the open area just outside of it.

                Once that task was done, he stopped and grabbed T'Pah. The pair looked at each other for a good minute before Saanik kissed her. “Whatever happens, know that I love you.”

                “And I you,” T'Pah replied.

                Saanik nodded and walked into the cell as T'Pah went into the control room and reactivated the force-field. Once that was done, she went back to the edge of the cell and took up a defensive stance with both hers and Saanik's phasers.

                Saanik, meantime, placed his hands on Salek's face.

                “It won't work.” Salek frowned.

                “We'll see,” Saanik stated as he positioned his fingers. Salek grimaced as the meld started to take hold.

                “Your thoughts to my thoughts...” Saanik said.

                “My mind to your mind...” Salek replied, obviously against his will.

                “Who is your contact on Earth?”

                “I have business with...” Salek started.

                “Councilman Young,” Saanik replied.

                Both appeared to be in slight pain, but Saanik pushed on. “What kind of business?”

                “I am Minister of...”

                “Vulcan Intelligence...” Saanik finished. “What is your true business?”

                “I am Minister of...”

                “Vulcan Intelligence...” Saanik pushed harder, nearly causing Salek to let out an audible gasp. T'Pah closed her eyes for a moment, afraid to look and see the kind of pain Saanik must be enduring as well.

                “WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS WITH COUNCILMAN YOUNG?” Saanik yelled.

                Ranma began to stir. He slowly sat up, then suddenly realized what had happened. He quickly stood and ran down into the brig, but T'Pah's phaser pointed at him stopped him.

                “Please, Captain, don't,” she pleaded.

                “He'll die!” Ranma argued.

                “We'll all die,” T'Pah said, a tear coming to her eye.

                Ranma began to back up and slapped his communicator. “Saotome to security, get people to the brig now.”

                Salek clenched his teeth hard, using every ounce of will he had to not reply. Again, Saanik yelled. “WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS WITH COUNCILMAN YOUNG?”

                “To cause...”

                “...separation,” Saanik finished.

                Ranma, who was trying to unseal the brig doors, looked up.

                “Why?” Saanik asked.

                “To free Vulcan from human control,” Salek replied, now broken.

                “Why Councilman Young?” Saanik asked, weakly.

                Salek tried to fight, but Saanik was in his mind to deep now. “He also wants...”

                “...Separation.”

                Saanik's head started to droop, but there was one more thing he wanted to know. One more thing he had to ask if he was going to die.

                “Why attack the LDF base?”

                Salek blinked, and managed a slight, but smug smile. “It sped...”

                “...Separation.”

                Saanik fell over backwards, losing his grip on Salek. Salek also fell over. T'Pah, upon hearing the two men hit the ground, dropped to her knees. Ranma stood there in shock for a minute before hitting his communicator again.

                “MEDICAL EMERGENCY TO THE BRIG!!” He turned to T'Pah. “Damn it get the force-field down!”

                T'Pah slowly got up and walked to the control room. She decoded Saanik's encryption and lowered the force-field and unsealed the brig, allowing a swarm of security officers to enter, the majority of which bared their weapons on her.

                “Stand down,” Ranma ordered.

                The guards complied and made way for the medical teams that were now pushing their way in. After checking on Makoto and Rei, who were starting to come to, Ranma walked into the cell.

                “He needs to go to sickbay,” Akane said, referring to Salek.

                Ranma nodded and allowed the medics and security to take him out into the corridor where he could be transported. He then moved over to Saanik.

                Akane looked him over and turned to her assistant chief medical officer. “He's really bad.”

                Saanik smiled. “No, I am dead,” T'Pah came over to him.

                “You did it,” she said.

                Saanik took her hand. “We did it.”

                “Dammit, Minister,” Ranma said, going to his knees. “I told you no.”

                Saanik took Ranma's hand with his free one. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. My death will save millions of not only my people, but all our people. I have been sworn to do that since I joined the military eighty some years ago.”

                Saanik released Ranma's hand and held up the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Captain Saotome.”

                Ranma repeated the salute to the best of his ability and placed his hand against Saanik's. Saanik closed his eyes, and within a moment, his hand slid off Ranma's and dropped to the ground. Ranma looked to the doctor who just shook his head.

                T'Pah turned to Ranma. “His sacrifice was for both our worlds.”

                Ranma nodded and hit his communicator. “Saotome to bridge. Tell Admiral Larson I need to see him immediately.”

                “Good lord,” Larson repeated for about the fifth time watching the interrogation tape from Saanik's mind meld with Salek. Ranma, who had no real interest in seeing Saanik kill himself again, stood against a wall a couple of meters away from the SitCon.

                “Ranma,” Genma said quietly, walking over to his son. “Are you okay?”

                Ranma shook his head. “No. But I will deal with that later.”

                Genma put his hand on Ranma's shoulder. “You did all you could.”

                “I know,” Ranma acknowledged. “I think what's bothering me the most is the fact that I am glad he did it. Otherwise, we'd have nothing to go on.”

                Genma nodded. “He made a great sacrifice.”

                “Yes,” Ranma sighed. “But he messed up Salek pretty bad too. So, on one hand I don't know how different that was then having Makoto beat Salek into confessing.”

                Genma could understand the ethical quandary Ranma was having. “I guess the primary difference here is that you didn't have to order him to do it.”

                Ranma sighed. “I guess.”

                “Ranma,” Larson called. Ranma turned and walked over to the SitCon. Larson pointed to the screen. “The main fleet appears to be fragmenting.”

                Ranma slammed his fist onto the console. “Dammit. Did they move the assault up again?”

                “It would appear so. I have not gotten another status message yet. We should have another thirty hours, but if they are breaking into formations, they are likely going to depart within twenty-four hours.”

                Larson checked another screen. “The Vulcans also appear to be preparing for battle. They are establishing a line around the planet, as well as a forward line.

                “Their defenses have increased quite a bit, but the Starfleet group is still vastly superior.”

                Ranma nodded. “Well, sure, if you have every ship in Starfleet assembled together.”

                “So, what do we do now?” Genma asked.

                “We need to connect Young to Salek like we connected Salek to Young,” Larson stated.

                “Young is on Earth,” Ranma replied.

                “Then that's where we need to go,” Larson said, pointing to the Federation Council building diagram he brought up.

                “We can't get there in under twenty-four hours at 6.5,” Ukyo pointed out.

                “It will only take nine at 9.9,” Larson replied.

                “We can't fly that fast cloaked...” Ranma trailed off. “In a Romulan ship?!”

                “We don't have a choice. Get everyone on board and set a course,” Larson ordered.

                “What about the prisoners on the planet?” Ukyo asked.

                “Flood the building with bahoride. It will knock them out for about sixteen hours, but otherwise leave them unharmed.” Larson explained. “Make sure you take off their restraints so they don't starve once they wake up.”

                “Aye,” Ukyo replied.

                Ranma and Genma walked towards the turbolift. Ranma smiled at his father. “And here I thought the flight to my court martial was my most tense ride to Earth.”

                Genma laughed as the pair got into the turbolift.

-----

                Rei looked up from her desk as her door buzzer rang. Through the window next to the door, she could see Sgt. Schaefer standing against the wall, so it was a reasonable assumption that it was CWO Yuki pestering her.

                “Come in,” she called.

                Her assumption was correct as Kio walked in and snapped to attention. “Do you have a moment, Commander?” Kio asked.

                Rei nodded and pointed to the chair across from her. Kio slowly walked to it, her boots making a distinctive clang with each step. Finally, she reached the chair and sat down.

                Rei looked at her, waiting for the smaller girl to say the first word.

                “I apologize for my actions earlier,” Kio said, directly, which Rei thought was a bit out of character for her. “I was emotional, but that was no excuse. I was disrespectful and out of line.”

                “Indeed, you were,” Rei agreed.

                Not quite the response Kio was hoping for. “Okay...” Kio trailed off.

                Rei looked back down at her paperwork. “I have no intention of accepting your apology, Chief,” she stated. “Maybe someday when you fix the personality disorder of yours that caused the outburst, but not now.”

                “Personality disorder?”

                Rei looked up. “Yeah. I mean, that must be it, right?”

                Kio simply looked at Rei both confused and angry.

                “You've had it since you got here. I chose you for your service record, but you did not have to come. Yet you did, so I assumed you were leadership material. Yet it's been nothing but 'waa waa I can't do this' time and time again.

                “I'm not your mother and last time I checked, you're not a puppy. I shouldn't have to constantly pat you on the head and give you reassurance and a biscuit every time you do a good job.”

                Rei tossed a PADD in Kio's direction. “Technically, you've been damned near flawless, so I don't know what the hell your problem could possibly be other than some kind of personality disorder that makes you such a baby.”

                Kio looked over the PADD. “I lost a solider-”

                “Dammit, Kio. It's combat,” Rei snapped. “Do you want to know how many friends, colleagues, shipmates I have seen die right in front of me?”

                Kio didn't answer.

                “DO YOU?”

                “No ma'am.”

                “If you don't want to deal with death, get out of space and go get a fucking job in a bakery,” Rei growled.

                Kio sighed. Rei pulled out another PADD. “We'll be arriving at a new destination in about nine hours or so. Here's the preliminary mission briefing. Take Corporal Kagurazaka from Charlie Team to replace Sgt. Simpson.”

                “Replace,” Kio softly said.

                Rei sighed and turned away. “If you are going to cry, please take it into the hallway with Sgt. Schaefer. I really don't need to see it. Dismissed.”

                Kio stood and began to turn.

                “Take that other one with you too. Study it. Might help you fix your disorder,” Rei called.

                Kio picked up the second PADD and quickly walked out the door. Once it slid shut, Anthony looked at her. “Well?”

                Kio shook her head. “We have a mission to prepare for.”

                Kio stormed off leaving Anthony behind. Anthony looked on the ground, noticing Kio dropped a PADD. He picked it up and began to read it as he walked. The top of the PADD stated ‘CWO KIO YUKI; NSO SERVICE RECORD.’

-----

                Shampoo stood as Ranma and Genma walked out of the turbolift and onto the bridge of the Salvation. She turned to Ranma and followed him with her eyes as he quickly walked down to the engineering station.

                “How are the engines?” Ranma asked Usagi.

                Usagi looked over her monitors. “All green!” she smiled. She was assuming even on Romulan ships, green meant good.

                “Good. Have damage control teams on stand-by. We're in for a bumpy ride.”

                Usagi nodded and began to relay orders. Ranma motioned with his head for Shampoo to join him and Genma up at Makoto's station. Jansen walked over from her security station as well.

                “We're heading to Earth,” Ranma informed them.

                The trio who were just learning this nodded.

                “We'll be uncloaked,” Ranma added.

                “Oy!” Makoto exclaimed. Ranma nodded in agreement.

                “The Romulans still have certain rights of passage in Federation space thanks to our cooperative agreements after the Dominion War, but a Romulan ship barreling towards Earth will look mighty aggressive.”

                “Not to mention we don't know what lies have been seeded about us as well by Councilman Young,” Genma added.

                Ranma nodded. “Obviously, we will have the Infinity with us, and hopefully a Federation ship escorting us will show we are not hostile, but the problem is that the Infinity is not going to show up on any Starfleet registry and will essentially appear as a doppelganger ship.”

                “Well, we shouldn't have too much problem fighting off the minimal defenses they have left at Earth,” Jansen shrugged.

                “We will not fire on any Federation vessel,” Ranma stated. “Regardless of whether or not they fire on us.”

                Jansen started to protest, but Makoto cut her off. “Understood. The shielding on this ship is pretty solid.”

                Ranma nodded. “Good. If needed, we'll evacuate to the Infinity.”

                “Hopefully, there won't be any shots fired at all,” Genma stated.

                Minako turned to Ranma. “Sir, the Infinity reports ready.”

                Ranma nodded and turned to Shampoo. “Take us home. Maximum warp.”

                “Yes sir.”

-----

                “About twenty minutes ago both the Infinity and the Romulan ship decloaked and entered warp,” The SI admiral reported, reading from his PADD. “High warp, no less, which explains why they decloaked.”

                “Leave them alone,” JC pleaded.

                “Where are they going?” James asked.

                “Here,” The SI admiral replied, pointing to the viewer where the path of the two ships had been marked. The line drew the ships proceeding through empty space and intersecting with Earth.

                “They are bringing evidence to the Council to stop the invasion,” JC continued.

                “What kind of evidence?” Douglass asked.

                “It doesn't matter,” NK sighed. “What matters is that you allow them to reach Earth unmolested so that the Federation can be saved.”

                “The path they are taking puts the Reclamation Fleet too far to do anything anyway,” James pointed out.

                “What about the Terran Defense Fleet?” JC asked.

                James looked at Douglass. “Instruct them to allow the two ships safe passage.”

                “Yes sir.”

                James looked to NK and JC. “So help me God, if you two are wrong about those ships I will make a point to kill you myself.”

                NK scoffed a bit as JC grinned. “Admiral, if we’re wrong, we’re all dead anyway.”

-----

                Young blinked at the information scrolling past him on his terminal. Nothing on it made any sense to him. Why exactly would Starfleet be granting safe passage to a Romulan warship?

                “Along with NCC 100371,” Young mumbled out loud. “Computer, access ship information, NCC 100371.”

                “Unable to comply. NCC 100371 U.S.S. Infinity information is classified Black Five,” the computer replied.

                “Damn it all to hell,” Young snarled. He quickly grabbed his suit coat and ran out of his office. Young sprinted down a flight of stairs and around a corner, knocking staffers and officer works to the ground as he went.

                After running for what seemed like kilometers, he finally reached the Federation Council President's office and rang the buzzer.

                The president's secretary looked at him and waved him in.

                “Councilman.”

                “I need to see Mr. Tre. It's an emergency.”

                “I'm sorry, he's gone to Geneva to be with the Federation President so they can make a joint statement once the invasion begins.”

                Young sighed.

                “Is there a problem?” the secretary asked.

                “Yes, needed his authorization for something, but I guess it's too late now.”

                The secretary shook his head. “I have his code. If you have the PADD, I can punch it in for you.”

                Young blinked. His fifteen years on the council, all the ass kissing, all the line-toting, all the political bullshit he's played is actually going to pay off.

                Young pulled a small PADD out of his pocket. “It's an aluminum acquisition authorization.”

                “That's an emergency?” the secretary asked.

                “Well, it's from the Ferengi, and if I don't get it in by close of business, they are going to triple the price.”

                The secretary nodded and entered in the code. “Good you got down here when you did then. I was just about to head out.”

                Young nodded and took back the PADD. “Thank you.”

                “Take care, Councilman.”

                “You too,” Young turned and walked out, slower than he came in. Young whistled a happy tune all the way back to his office. Not only had he managed to acquire aluminum at a rock bottom price, but he had gotten the president of the Federation Council's authorization code recorded on his computer.

                Once Young had returned to his office, he causally began to type up a new PADD. He especially enjoyed typing in the last words on the PADD.

                'Stop the ships at any cost.'

                After deciding he was content with his handy work, he did his best forgery of the president's signature, which he – not surprisingly – had gotten good at over the years, and cheerfully punched in his ill-gotten authorization code.

                Once that was complete, he connected with Starfleet's communication network.

                “Computer, encryption mode beta ten; connect me with lead ship of the Terran Defense Fleet.” Young ordered.

                On board the bridge of the Prometheus class U.S.S. Asuna, the communications officer was knocked out of his semi-slumber by his terminal chirping at him wildly. He silenced it quickly and studied what he saw for a moment before turning towards the COMM.

                “Admiral...”

                The admiral in direct command of the Terran Defense Fleet and captain of the Asuna, Rear Admiral Kaede Sasaki, turned to him. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

                “I'm getting a heavily encrypted request to speak to you.”

                “Starfleet Command?”

                The communications officer shook his head. “No ma'am. The Federation Council.”

                The Admiral looked at her command staff, who was just as confused as she was. She finally stood up, adjusted her hair and her uniform, and turned to main viewer. “Okay then. Put it up.”

                The image of Young appeared on the viewer. “Hello, Admiral. I am Councilman Zack Young. I am the chairman of the Peace and Protection Committee, more commonly known as the Defense committee. I am also the vice-president of the Federation Council.”

                The Admiral nodded. “I am Admiral Kaede Sasaki, Commander of Starfleet’s Terran Defense Force. What do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected communication?”

                “I will be blunt, Admiral,” Young frowned. “I am sending you an order directly from the Council President. He is unavailable, so he had me, in my capacity as committee chairman, to take care of this.”

                The communication terminal chirped as Young continued. “There are certain people within Starfleet command, including Admiral Douglass, who wish to see the Federation fall.”

                “Excuse me?” Sasaki asked.

                “They are working against us by trying to stop the reclamation of Vulcan, which is why they ordered you to stand down and let two ships, which we have information to be hostile, to pass and proceed to Earth.”

                Sasaki looked to her XO who looked as stunned as she was at what she was hearing. “What evidence do you have?” she finally asked.

                “As much as I would love to give you a full briefing right now, there just isn't time. As well, if those in Starfleet find out that you know they are aware of their deception, you will be at risk.”

                Young tapped on his console. “The order I sent you is from the president of the council. It supersedes the order from Starfleet Command. Be safe and be confident in knowing that everything you do is for the good of the Federation.”

                Young ended the communication. Sasaki turned to the communication officer. “Well?”

                “I ran the code. It's valid, ma'am.”

                She turned to her XO. “What do you think?”

                He scratched his head. “It's pretty farfetched, Kaede,” he admitted, “but Starfleet Command does get their marching orders from the Federation Council. And if there was a hostile link between us and them, well then perhaps it would make sense to bypass that link, especially if time were an issue, like it appears to be now.” He pointed at the tactical display of the Infinity and the Salvation, a mere five hours out.

                Sasaki sat back down in her chair. “Well then. Inform the fleet. If those ships cross the defensive perimeter, we intercept them then.”

                “Aye,” the XO replied.

-----

TWO HOURS FROM EARTH, EIGHT HOURS FROM INVASION

                Ranma probably would have worn a path in the carpeting from his pacing if the Romulan ship had any. He was moving constantly from his seat to engineering to tactical to operations and back.

                Shampoo, from her station, was getting nauseous from watching him pace.

                “Ranma,” she said, grabbing him as he moved past her.

                Ranma turned to her.

                “Sit down,” she ordered.

                Ranma, surprisingly, complied with her and sat down in his seat. He did not sit still though. Both of his hands kneaded the armrests, and his feet would not quit moving.

                “We have two hours,” Shampoo said, walking over to him and squatting so she was eye level with her captain. “You are going to break yourself.”

                Ranma sighed. “I know, I know,” he admitted, calming down slightly. Genma slowly walked down and stood next to him. “I am just concerned about the fact that we've been traveling for so long without so much as a 'hello'.”

                “They're too busy preparing to fight each other to care about us,” Genma pointed out.

                Ranma knew that. He also knew that it was a seven-hour flight from Earth to Vulcan at 9.9, so all those ships assembled at Wolf 3-5-9, about two hundred and eighty of them now, would be departing in a little over an hour.

                He hoped that the Vulcans would hold their ground at Vulcan, allowing them the full eight hours to find and implicate Young, rather than try and intercept them halfway, only giving him about three and a half.

                “When is the last time you slept?” Genma asked.

                “Couldn't tell you,” Ranma answered.

                Genma sighed. “The minute we are done, you are going straight to bed, even if I have to have security escort you.”

                Ranma smiled. “I can assure you that won't be necessary.”

                “Captain...” Makoto called.

                “Yes?” Ranma asked.

                “The Terran Defense Fleet...” she said, concerned. “They are moving towards Sol's defensive line.”

                Shampoo stood. “Are there other ships?”

                “They're waiting for us,” Jansen growled.

                “Larson said they were going to let us through,” Ranma sighed.

                Kaii's terminal chirped. “Captain, it's Admiral Larson.”

                Ranma nodded. “On screen.”

                Larson appeared on the main viewer. “Ranma, I assume you see the Terran fleet moving.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “They apparently...” he paused, “…they apparently have begun to ignore instructions from Starfleet Command.”

                “Why?” Shampoo asked.

                “From what I have been told, three hours ago they received a heavily encrypted message from the Federation Council-”

                “Young,” Ranma concluded.

                “Likely.”

                “So much for safe passage,” Shampoo sighed.

                “Captain,” Larson began, “the successful completion of our mission is of utmost importance.”

                “Admiral, they don't know what they’re doing,” Ranma argued. “I'm not going to kill good Starfleet officers who just think they are following a valid order.”

                Regardless of whether he agreed with Ranma, he deeply respected his principles. “Okay. What is your plan.”

                “I don't plan on coming out of warp until we hit Earth.”

                Ikuhara blinked. “Oh my,” he quietly said to himself.

                “I think you remember what happened last time you came out of warp that close to a planet.”

                Ranma nodded. “Yeah, well, this time we have engines.”

                “Not going quite as fast either,” Shampoo helpfully added.

                Larson nodded. “It should work. The defense fleet will likely be waiting for you by Neptune. It'll take them several minutes to get to you from there at full impulse.”

                “By then we should have all the ants at the picnic, so to speak. And if need be, we can bail.”

                Larson agreed. “Okay. See you there then.”

                Ranma smiled. “Yup.”

                Larson closed the channel and Ranma slumped down in his chair. Both Genma and Shampoo looked at him with concern.

                “What?” he asked them.

                “You are looking stressed,” Genma pointed out the obvious.

                “Get back to me when I look 'really freakin' stressed,'” Ranma groaned.

95 MINUTES TO EARTH

                Kio, Anthony and Kagurazaka walked out of the holodeck and moved in silence down to the room assigned to them as their ready room. Kio lazily tossed her gear onto a table and tromped over to the replicator.

                “Water, one degree,”

                The replicator complied.

                Kagurazaka placed his gear in his assigned place and had a seat at the table next to Anthony. “I hope you were satisfied with my performance, Chief.”

                Kio drank the water entirely, then ordered another one. She drank that one too, before turning around. She paused, a little taken back by seeing Kagurazaka sitting in the same place where Mike used to sit.

                “Yes... Corporal,” she replied finally, walking over to the table herself. She stopped herself though, instead choosing to sit at the next table over where she had dropped her vest and her rifle. Anthony watched Kio as Kagurazaka again tried to gauge her opinion of him.

“I appreciate you taking me on, though I am sorry for the circumstance.”

                Kio set down the PADD she was looking at for a moment and stared across the room. She then picked it back up and began to read it again. “I didn't have a choice. But I am sure you will be adequate.”

                Kagurazaka nodded. Anthony stood and turned to Kagurazaka. “Pardon me.” Kagurazaka nodded to him as Anthony walked over to Kio and grabbed the back of her jacket, pulling her off her chair.

                “WHAT THE HELL?” she yelled.

                “We need to talk,” he stated.

                “Don't grab-” she resisted, trying to pull away from Anthony, but he continued to pull her from behind, towards the door.

                “SARGENT LET GO OF ME.”

                Anthony ignored her and pulled her into the hallway. Once there he pulled her in front of him and pushed her against the wall.

                “So, what. Now you've decided that you're going to be like her?”

                Kio balked. “Excuse me?”

                “You have a solider in there who knows he's going to go on what might be the most important mission of his life, who's unfortunately replacing someone that is irreplaceable and all he is looking for is for you to let him know that his leader actually wants him here.”

                “I don't want him here. I want Mike,” Kio growled.

                “Mike is gone.”

                “How can you say that so coldly?” Kio asked.

                “Because I have to,” Anthony replied. “Dammit, Kio. Do you have any idea how much I want to just go into my quarters and cry?”

                Kio shook her head slowly.

                “Mike and I have known each other for years. Even longer than you and I. But we need to hold it together. For the job. For the Federation. For Mike and for that Corporal in there who needs you to guide him so that someday he can be as important to someone as Mike is to us.”

                Kio put her hand on her face. “Dammit Tony, what is wrong with me.”

                “Because it feels so similar to what happened with Nick, you’re fighting yourself,” Anthony said, hugging Kio. “Unfortunately, you’re using the Commander Hino method, which is not helpful.”

                Kio allowed herself to be held by Anthony for a moment before pulling away and nodding in agreement. “I don’t want to be her,” Kio bit her lip for a moment, “and I don’t want the people I care about to die.”

                “No one does.”

                Kio shook her head. “What I mean is maybe I feel like if I treat people like crap, they won’t care about me and I won’t care about them.”

                Anthony laughed. “Even as a brat, you’re wonderful. People will care about you, regardless.”

                “Brat?” Kio laughed. She then shook her head in disgust. “I’m acting far worse than like a brat.”

                Anthony leaned forward and kissed Kio’s forehead. “Brat, jerk, asshole, it doesn’t matter. I will always be with you.”

                Kio held her head against Anthony's.

                “Mike will too, but you won't be able to see him, so be careful when you change,” Anthony added, causing Kio to laugh.

                “Damn you,” she chuckled.

                Anthony motioned towards the door. “He needs to know you're friendly.”

                Kio nodded, straightened out her uniform and walked in. Kagurazaka started to stand, but Kio silently instructed him to remain seated.

                “Corporal, I need to apologize,” she said, sitting down across from him.

                “Chief?”

                “I've been having a difficult time dealing with Sgt. Simpson's death and I appear to have taken it out on you. I shouldn't have done that.”

                Kagurazaka shook his head. “I understand. It's okay.”

                “No, it's not,” Kio disagreed. “I've reviewed your record and I think you will make a fine addition to our team. We're the best in Starfleet, and it's good to know that we're going to stay that way.”

                Kio extended her hand. Kagurazaka took it and shook it. “Thank you, Chief.”

                “Now, if Sgt. Schaefer is done hiding in the doorway, we can begin looking at our mission briefing,” Kio smiled.

                Anthony popped his head in. “I wasn't hiding.”

60 MINUTES TO EARTH; 7 HOURS TO VULCAN

                “I have tried every single subspace band, we just cannot establish contact,” the communication officer in Starfleet's war room informed Admiral Douglass.

                “I told you already,” NK fumed. “They are IGNORING you.”

                JC had stopped bothering trying to contain NK. She had already swatted him twice and stepped on both of his feet. He assumed the next time he tried to physically hold her back, she would hit him.

                He had no interest in knowing what that felt like.

                “Sir,” another aide called to James. “It's time.”

                James nodded. “Send them. Authorization-”

                “Admiral!” NK called.

                “Beta-5-3-2-”

                “ADMIRAL!” NK once again yelled.

                “Miss, I don't care if you are Section 31,” Douglass barked. “Shut up or you will be removed.”

                NK stomped off to a different end of the room as James continued to launch the assault against the Vulcan home world.

                “-7-Gamma-Gamma-9.”

                “Order sent.”

                James sighed.

                “Well, I hope you're happy,” NK snarled.

                “I don’t have a fucking choice,” James retorted. “Go bitch at the President.”

                JC walked over to the SI Admiral who was working with several other SI officers. “Have you had any luck decrypting or tracing that transmission?”

                “No,” he glowered.

                “Who would have the authorization to override a Starfleet Command order?” NK asked.

                “You guys?” Douglass asked.

                NK just snarled at him.

                “Obviously, the Federation President or the Council President, but they are both in Geneva, and both of them have been in the General Assembly all day,” James answered.

                “No one else?” JC asked.

                James shook his head. “Only those two have the authorization codes to issue commands.”

                “Oh ho ho...” one of the SI guys giggled.

                “What?” Everyone asked.

                “I didn't crack it, but I figured out where it originated,” he replied.

                “Where?” everyone again asked.

                “Paris.”

-----

                Young could not get the grin off his face as he continued to watch the updates on his terminal. Both the reclamation fleet and the fleet with the troop transports had left their staging locations. As well, the Terran Defense Fleet was doing what he told them too.

                They were ignoring Starfleet Command, and they were staged to engage the ships which he believed contained the evidence of Salek's involvement in the plot.

                Once they were destroyed, he assumed everything would be grand.

                He of course did not quite think very far ahead, like how he would explain why or how he usurped the Council President's codes to reroute Starfleet ships, but perhaps the ensuing chaos would provide enough of a distraction that he wouldn't have to.

                *Zack*

                Young looked around. Five in the evening could not come soon enough. This day was becoming so long that he was starting to hear voices in his head. Young chuckled and took a drink of his coffee.

                *Zack*

                Young spit the coffee onto his desk as that voice was a bit clearer. Clear enough for him to know it was Salek's voice.

                “Sa-Salek?” he stammered.

                *Flee*

                Young began to look around. He did not see anyone, or anything. He began checking under his desk, behind curtains and window shades, even for some reason, between the pages of some of the books he had on his shelves.

                *FLEE*, the voice told him again.

                “Flee?!” Young asked. “Why?”

                *SAOTOME*

                Young blinked. He knew Vulcans had some telepathic ability. Could it be that Salek was warning him that Saotome was here and knew what they were up to?

                *IS COMING*

                “Where are you?” Young asked again, locking his door.

                *FLEE*

                “SALEK!”

                The voices stopped. Young ran to his monitor and pulled up one of Starfleet's tactical displays. He eyed the Infinity and the Romulan ship 54 minutes away and heading to Earth at warp 9.9.

                “No way,” Young said.

                A knocking at Young's door caused him to jump about two meters. He turned and slowly walked to it, releasing the lock. He opened it to see his secretary.

                “Jules,” he sighed.

                “Sir?”

                “What is it?”

                “I was just wondering if you knew what that was all about?” she pointed to the window. Young went to look. Outside from the second floor he could see transporting into the parking lot were a couple dozen Starfleet security officers.

                “Probably just to make sure we're safe after the invasion,” Young lied. He had a really good idea why they were here. Young grabbed his jacket. He decided to take the advice of the voice in his head.

                “I have a dinner date tonight. I'll see you tomorrow.”

                Jules nodded as Young moved out the door.

50 MINUTES TO EARTH

                “We have no idea what happened,” the Assistant CMO said to Ranma. “His brain waves were going nutty, and we thought we were going to lose him, so we sedated him.”

                “Nutty?” Ranma asked.

                The ACMO nodded. “Yes sir. All over the chart.”

                Ranma looked down at a slowly breathing Salek. “Will he live?”

                The ACMO shrugged. “I think so. Everything seems to have stabilized.”

                Ranma eyed the monitors above Salek's head. “Do you have any idea what caused his episode?”

                The doctor shook his head. “No. He was fine one minute, the next...”

                Ranma nodded. “Well, keep me informed.”

                “Yes sir.”

                Ranma turned and walked to the door, Akane next to him. “Ranma,” she stopped him.

                Ranma turned to her. “Yes?”

                Akane began to scan him. Ranma pushed the tricorder away and sighed. “You don't need that. My blood pressure is through the roof. I am sure all my chemicals are either two low or two high and I've slept maybe an hour and a half in the past three days.”

                Akane sighed.

                Ranma shook his head. “Less than an hour this will be over with. After that I plan on expecting you to wait on me hand and foot.”

                Akane laughed. “I am sure Ukyo would love to do that.”

                Ranma blinked. “Who told you?”

                “It's a small ship, Ranma-honey,” she mocked.

                Ranma looked at Akane, wondering if she was being serious jealous, or joking jealous.

                Akane, not wanting to add any more stress onto Ranma smiled. “I, as your chosen wife, will be happy to wait on you.”

                Ranma smiled and kissed Akane. “I will be sure to hold you to that,” He moved to the door of sickbay before stopping and moving back to Akane. He leaned into her and smiled slyly. “There will be other holding as well, but we will discuss that in a more private setting.”

                Akane blushed as Ranma exited the room.

5 MINUTES FROM EARTH

                The red alert lights pulsed on the bridge of the Salvation as Ranma stood and moved behind the helm station. “Status?” he asked.

                Ikuhara looked at his terminal. “Five minutes. I am almost certain I have these coordinates right. We should come out of warp somewhere between Mars and Earth.”

                Ranma nodded. “Any closer and we risk hitting the planet.”

                Shampoo turned to Jansen. “The ships?”

                “Still at Neptune,” she replied.

                “Hail them,” Ranma ordered.

                “No response,” Kaii replied.

                “Open a channel,” Ranma ordered.

                Kaii complied and opened communications. Ranma turned to the viewscreen. “This is Starfleet Captain Ranma Saotome of the U.S.S. Salvation, a seized Romulan ship operating under the authority of the United Federation of Planets to the Starfleet ships patrolling the Sol system.”

                Young looked up from his work at his residence in California to the data terminal on his desk. Was he hearing more voices, or did he just hear Ranma Saotome?

                Was Salek right?

                “We are on an urgent mission and need to get to Federation Headquarters. Please do not interfere with us or impede our passage. It is imperative that you comply.”

                Ranma turned to Kaii.

                He shook his head. “They heard us.”

                Ranma sighed. “Please respond.”

                Silence.

                Ranma started to speak again but was cut off by the viewscreen coming to life. On it was Admiral Sasaki. Her bridge was at obvious combat readiness. She looked at Ranma, a bit confused, but sternly.

                “Captain,” she stated.

                “Admiral. Please, we need-”

                “Captain,” she interrupted. “Both of your ships must drop out of warp, lower your shields and prepare to be boarded.”

                “Admiral, I can't do that,” Ranma replied.

                Sasaki sighed. “Then what must be done, will be done.”

                “ADMIRAL, DO NOT DO THIS!” Genma yelled from behind Ranma.

                Sasaki looked at the group for a minute, before ending the communication. Ranma scowled and turned to Usagi. “As soon as we get the away teams off the ship, I need every ounce of power we have to the armor and the shields.”

                “Yes sir,” she whimpered.

                “They going to beat the crap out of us,” Shampoo whispered.

                Ranma nodded. “Yes. Yes, they are.”

                Sasaki watched her display. “Where are they? Shouldn't they have dropped out of warp by now?”

                The XO nodded. “Yes they-”

                “ADMIRAL!” The tactical officer yelled. “THEY SHOT RIGHT PAST US.”

                “No way,” the second officer stated in disbelief.

                “They're warping straight to Earth,” the XO stated.

                “TURN US AROUND! FULL IMPUSLE!” Sasaki screamed.

                “We're past the defense fleet.” Makoto informed the group.

                “Dropping out of warp in twenty seconds,” Ikuhara stated.

                “The defense fleet is coming about. ETA three minutes,” Jansen called out.

                “Ten seconds,” Ikuhara reported.

                Ranma silently counted down as the clock ticked.

                “Now,” The helmsman acknowledged as first the Salvation and then the Infinity flashed into normal space. Ranma looked at the viewer. Off in the distance sat a beautiful blue marble, floating there.

                It had seemed so far away two months ago. Now here he was. Still, too far away.

                “Still out of transporter range,” Minako reported.

                “Go!” Shampoo ordered Ikuhara, who had already set in a course. Both ships began pushing towards Earth at full impulse, in a race with the armada of ten warships about six planets back.

                “In range in about thirty seconds,” Minako called.

                “Teams are standing by,” Makoto called out.

                Ranma did not say anything. He knew that everyone knew their roles and did not need his constant reassurance. He was more concerned with the ships behind him, creeping closer.

                Shampoo's terminal began to beep. She looked at it, then turned back to the screen. At first Ranma did not say anything, assuming she would tell him what had caused the alarm, but when she didn't, he turned to her.

                “What was that?”

                Shampoo leaned to him and whispered. “Infinity.”

                “What about her?” he asked quietly.

                “She power up weapons.”

                Ranma turned back to the screen.

                “Ranma?” Genma asked.

                “It isn't my decision. It's not my problem,” Ranma stated, as the Salvation began to pull into orbit over Earth.

                “We're in range,” Minako called out.

                “Transport,” Ranma ordered.

                “Aye,” Minako called.

                “What isn't?” Genma asked.

                Ranma ignored his father and simply watched his home rotate below him.

                Rei's team beamed into the semi-vacant Federation Council headquarters. Rei quickly turned to her group. “Move fast and shoot only who we need to shoot,” she ordered.

                Parker and Shelton nodded. The group scurried up the hallway towards Young's office. It was late, but because of the pending invasion and large press event later, they were hoping that he would still be at his office.

                The number of office workers that they passed seemed to indicate that there were still people, including council people working, however it did concern them that some of them seemed rather nonchalant about the group of folks running down the corridor with large guns.

                Once they reached the section where the council members offices were, they found out why.

                They had already seen a much bigger group with guns come by.

                Rei, Parker, and Shelton walked into a group of about twenty-five Starfleet security officers. Each one quickly turned their guns towards Alpha Team.

                The three knew they were caught, and quickly dropped their weapons.

                “Bixby to Owasso,” one called.

                “Go.”

                “Get in here sir. We just had an... Incursion.”

                The head of the group, Commander Owasso, walked in with a couple of people in SI uniforms. “Lower your weapons,” he instructed his officers. The gaggle of Starfleet security did as they were ordered as Owasso walked over to Rei.

                “You're from the Section 31 ship?” Owasso asked. “Larson's ship?”

                Rei looked at him. “Captain Saotome's ship, yes.”

                Owasso nodded, squatted down, picked up Rei's rifle and handed it to her. Parker and Shelton also gingerly picked their rifles back up.

                “We were investigating who sent the message to the Defense Fleet ordering them to intercept your ships, despite Admiral Douglass' order to the contrary.”

                “It was Councilman Young,” Rei stated.

                “Hmm,” Owasso sighed. “He's gone. I should send people to his residence.”

                “That's being taken care of,” Rei nodded. “We need to send his computer logs to Admiral Larson. We're looking for specific evidence to link him to a conspiracy that is about to start a war between Vulcan and the Federation.”

                Owasso nodded. “This way.”

                “Hino to Salvation...”

                “GO!” Minako yelled.

                Ranma nearly fell over as the ship rocked. “Dammit that little ship hits hard.”

                “Young is not at his office, but we're securing his office and sending his computer logs to Admiral Larson.” Rei's voice informed the crew.

                “ACKNOWLEDGED!!” Minako yelled.

                Ranma turned to his father. “Please ask the good Admiral to find what we need quickly.”

                “Ranma...” Shampoo tugged at Ranma's sleeve. Ranma turned to the viewer to see the Infinity begin to launch her fighters.

                “Worry about us, Shampoo,” he ordered, turning to Makoto. “Status?”

                “Shields at-” Makoto was cut off by another ship rocking shot. “72 percent.”

                “Divert all power from the cloak and the weapons into the shields!” Ranma ordered.

                “Aye!” Usagi said, relaying orders into engineering.

                Anthony, Kio, and Kagurazaka slowly crept up the walkway to Young's posh home. The rocks in walkway were making a silent approach slightly difficult, but luckily the constant squawking of the marine fowl that infested the nearby beach covered them.

                The sun crested the western horizon. The bright orange sky was quite bright, casting everything with a long shadow.

                Young, who was hastily packing everything he thought he needed, was frustrated. He had tried to use his power to get a transport to Risa for a half an hour from now but could not.

                He guessed he had used up all his power credits getting the Council President's authorization codes.

                That and the explosives. After all, he could not leave and start a new life if people thought he was alive.

                Blowing up his house and making it look like a terrible kitchen accident seemed like an easy enough plan.

                Young looked up and turned quickly as something in his mirror caught his eye. He looked at his bedroom window for several seconds. He could have sworn that he just saw someone's shadow on it.

                Of course, though he had been hearing voices in his head and other voices that couldn't possibly exist on his communication terminal, so at this point, seeing things was to be expected.

                The next event though was quite real. The front door of his home exploded.

                Young dove for cover. He slowly poked his head up to see a small device bounce in. It beeped twice before exploding as well, knocking Young back to the ground.

                Through what used to be Young's door, Anthony, Kagurazaka, and Kio burst in, weapons pointed. They began to search for Young.

                Young again began to poke his head up. He looked at the group and knew exactly who they were. He reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a phaser. He slowly took aim.

                “CHIEF!” Kagurazaka yelled, seeing Young.

                Young fired, hitting Kio in the arm. Kagurazaka fired back, hitting Young in the hand, knocking the phaser to the ground. Both he and Anthony ran in, diving over the bed and tackling Young.

                “YOU CAN'T DO THIS! WHERE IS YOUR WARRANT?!” Young screamed.

                Kio walked over, rubbing her arm. “Councilman Zack Young?” she asked.

                Anthony and Kagurazaka pulled Young to his feet. “The lady asked you a question,” Kagurazaka growled.

                “I asked where your warrant was,” Young replied.

                Kio nodded, pulled out a PADD and smashed it over Young's head. Anthony stifled a laugh. “Surely, Councilman, you know as well as I do, that under Federation law and Starfleet regulations if I have probable cause, I don't need a warrant.”

                “Probable cause?” Young scoffed, continuing to play the innocent victim, trying to ignore the small amount of blood Kio drew from smashing the fiberglass device on his head. “Do tell.”

                “Your buddy, Salek, implicated you,” Kio smiled.

                “In what?”

                Kio leaned in to Young. “Treason, mother fucker,” She wiped the blood off of Young's head and onto her uniform pants. “Murder of Starfleet officers. Murder of Vulcans. Should I go on?”

                “You have no proof of anything.”

                “Oh?” Kio paused. “Oh, yeah I smashed it on your head.”

                Anthony shook his head and pulled out his PADD, handing it to Kio.

                “Thanks,” she looked at it. “It says here that they've just recently gotten more on you. Traced information back to you that you sent a false order in the Council President's name to the Terran Defense Fleet to stop us.”

                Kio nodded at Young's silence. “Yeah,” she read on. “His secretary squealed. You were just in his office getting his code just before the order was sent.”

                Young continued to stay silent.

                Kio turned to first Anthony then Kagurazaka. “Cat must have gotten his tongue.”

                Both enlisted men laughed as Kio pointed to a chair. “Tie him up. We need to look around. Quickly.”

                “Yes ma'am,” they replied.

                “Yuki to Salvation,” Kio called, hitting her communicator.

                The Salvation had been left alone for the most part since the Infinity has begun firing on the Defense Fleet ships.

                Ranma refused to do anything. It did not sit well with either Genma or Shampoo, but neither of them intervened. Larson and Ukyo appeared to be using some restraint as well, mainly targeting the ships weapons and shields.

                Both Shampoo and Genma had hoped that the Defense Fleet would leave and regroup, but they understood that leaving was not part of their job description.

                “Go ahead,” Minako replied.

                “We are in possession of Young,” Kio reported, her smile being broadcast over the audio communication. Ranma stood and moved up to Minako's terminal quickly.

                “Chief, I need you to quickly find anything that backs up Salek's claim that he was working with Salek on this...” Ranma paused. “Separation.”

                “Yes sir,” she replied.

                “Captain...” Makoto called. “The Denver has taken critical damage.”

                “Has the Infinity ceased firing at it?” Ranma asked.

                Makoto paused. “No.”

                Ranma stormed down to the main viewer. “Lock weapons on the Infinity and hail her.”

                “Ranma?” Genma asked.

                “Sir?” Makoto also asked.

                “FOLLOW MY ORDERS,” Ranma ordered.

                Larson appeared on the main viewer. “Captain, am I reading this right? Have you targeted us?”

                “Sir, that ship is no longer a threat. Cease fire on it. I will defend it,” Ranma sternly stated.

                Larson shook his head. “You won't defend your own ship, but you will defend one that's been shooting at you?”

                The communication cut off. Ranma turned to Makoto.

                “The Infinity has stopped firing on the Denver.”

                Ranma dropped into his seat. “I used to enjoy this job.”

                “The Asuna is making another pass at us,” Jansen called.

                “How that for grateful,” Shampoo scowled as the ship rocked under the smaller ships torpedo fire.

                “Nothing you find can be used in court against me,” Young said from his bedroom as he struggled against the hand restraints Bravo Team placed him in.

                Kio scowled. Not at what he said, but at the fact he had been babbling for the past ten minutes.

                “I liked you better when you weren't talking,” she called back.

                “This is a blatant violation of my rights!”

                Kio stopped digging through Young's desk, turned, and started to walk towards the bedroom.

                “Kio,” Anthony called.

                Kio ignored him and walked too Young. She pushed on the back of the chair, sending him crashing to the floor, his back to the carpet, looking up at her.

                “You want to talk about rights?” she spat. “What about the rights of all those LDF soldiers you and Salek killed? What about the rights of my crew mates who died when you and Salek sent us transwarping halfway across the galaxy? What about the rights of the millions of Vulcan and Federation citizens who are about to die when the 'reclamation' fleet arrives at Vulcan?”

                Kio dropped to on knee and leaned close to Young. “You selfish son-of-a-bitch, you don't care about rights. All you care about is yourself. Quite frankly I do not care if any of this can be used in court against you. If it stops this war, I've succeeded.”

                Kio stood and turned to walk away. “Besides, even if you do escape justice, I can take some pleasure in knowing that with all the enemies you've made you will spend the rest of your life constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering which person walking behind you was the one sent to kill you.”

                Kio chuckled as she walked back into Young's home office area, leaving the Councilman to consider what she just said.

                His smug, arrogant attitude had never allowed him to think, or even consider the consequences of his actions in the way she described. He had made some powerful enemies in this. Larson in particular. Someone with friends in Section 31 and apparently the Romulan Empire...

                Young began to squirm.

                ...he would be safe from extradition on Risa, but not from Section 31 or Romulan assassins.

                He squirmed a bit more.

                Was it too late for him to cut a deal? After all, they could not kill him if he was in a Federation prison, could they?

                “Chief!!” Anthony yelled.

                Kio ran into the kitchen where Anthony was. Kagurazaka trailed behind her. “What?”

                “Look what I found.”

                Anthony opened the oven door to show quite a few explosive packs. With them were also several data cubes.

                “Fuck!” Kio called. Kagurazaka pulled off his backpack and pulled out a small data terminal. Anthony, very cautiously, took out the data cubes and handed them to the young corporal.

                Kagurazaka began to run the search perimeters on them. “These things have terabytes of data on them,” he complained.

                “They're obviously important, otherwise he wouldn't want to blow them up,” Anthony said.

                Kio nodded.

                “HEY!” Young called out. “TELL LARSON I WANT TO MAKE A DEAL!”

                “NO!” Kio yelled back.

                “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?”

                Kio sighed. “WE DON'T HAVE TIME. ADMIT YOUR GUILT OR SHUT THE HELL UP.”

                Anthony again had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at Kio.

                “I WANT IMMUNITY!”

                Kio ignored him as she noticed the search screen stop. “That's useful,” she downloaded it to a PADD as Kagurazaka started on a second data cube.

                “I CAN STOP THE FLEET!”

                “I DON'T NEED YOU NOW,” Kio replied. “WE JUST BUSTED YOU.”

                Silence.

                “That shut him up,” Kagurazaka noted.

                Anthony and Kio nodded as the screen stopped again. Kio smiled and patted Kagurazaka on the back. “Yuki to Salvation.”

                “Larson seems to not have appreciated your earlier threat, Ranma,” Genma pointed out. “He's no longer firing on the ships shooting at us.”

                Ranma sighed and nodded. “I see that.”

                “So do they,” Shampoo pointed out as the seven still capable ships began to converge on the Salvation.

                “Go ahead,” Minako sighed.

                “Shields at 49 percent,” Usagi reported.

                Ranma nodded.

                “We have obtained evidence of Councilman Young meeting with Salek and Commadore T'Kuk, the head of the Lincoln Park Shipyards. As well, evidence of him altering inventory logs and logs of Salek's visits.”

                Some yelling could be heard in the background.

                “Eh, the Councilman is, unhappy, about our lack of a warrant,” Kio continued. “But this should be enough for now, we have six more data cubes that can be examined for more evidence.”

                “It's perfect, Chief,” Ranma smiled. “I'm sending security down to deal with the Councilman. Stay there and prepare for further instructions.”

                “Yes sir.”

                Larson appeared on the viewer. Ranma turned to him. “Did you get all that, sir?”

                Larson nodded. “Yes. Excellent work and it should be enough to get those ships stopped,” Larson grimaced as a volley of torpedoes knocked Ranma and anyone else standing to the ground.

                “SHEILDS AT 33 PERCENT!” Usagi yelled.

                Ranma quickly pulled himself up. “We need to go,” he said to Larson.

                Larson nodded and closed the channel. Ranma turned to Shampoo then his father. “Shampoo, Pop, let's go.” The trio sped walked to the turbolift. “Minako, you have the bridge,” Ranma paused and turned to Makoto.

                “My order still stands,” he softly said. “This ship burns before a single Starfleet ship is fired upon.”

                Makoto nodded. “Yes sir.”

                Despite the occasional briefings that the pair had gotten from aides throughout the day, neither the President of the Council nor the Federation President really had a clear picture of what was going on above their heads.

                Both knew that someone had stolen the Council President's codes and used them to redirect Starfleet ships. Both had heard that they were fighting in orbit.

                But neither had known that they sent teams to the surface or what they were doing.

                They really had more important things to worry about, to be honest. In the grand scheme of things, dealing with Starfleet ships disobeying orders was a Starfleet issue.

                The Council President had changed his codes, so the perpetrator could not do what he did again, and Starfleet security was investigating, so as far as he was concerned, the matter was under control.

                Like a lot of things though, control was not something that was a given, nor a constant. For instance, both Presidents felt that they were in control of the Federation President's office, what with the Federation security and Starfleet security with them.

                That quickly changed when twenty of the Salvation's marine's beamed in and quickly stunned all the guards. They were then followed by both NEO teams, Ranma, Shampoo, Larson, and Genma.

                “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” Nanietta Bacco, the Federation President yelled.

                The two flag officers moved towards her desk with Shampoo and Ranma right behind them as the NEO teams set up transport inhibitors around the room. The marines, Ryouga included, moved to secure the security personnel, and seal the doors.

                “Madam President, sir,” Larson nodded as he greeted the pair. “I do apologize for having to greet you like this, but we had to speak with you now and it could not wait for the normal procedures to be followed.”

                “So, you decided to hold the President of the Federation and the President of the Council hostage?” The Council President, Eli Tre asked.

                “While it looks that way, yes,” Genma sighed. “However, when you hear what we have to say, you will understand why we have done what we did.”

                Bacco sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Well, since I have no choice, out with it.”

                “Ma'am, we have collected evidence that points to a conspiracy between select elements with the Federation and the Vulcan government that has led up to the events playing out today,” Larson explained.

                “What evidence?” Tre asked.

                “Confessions and logs,” Larson explained.

                “To what end?” Tre pushed.

                “To cause exactly what is about to happen,” Ranma stepped forward. “War between Vulcan and the Federation, and ultimately the destruction of the Federation.”

                Bacco leaned forward. “Wait, you want me to believe that there are actually people inside of the Federation that want to see it destroyed?”

                Larson nodded. “Not everyone believes in the benevolence of our mission. Of our goals. Some people believe our very ideals are what makes us targets for races like the Dominion and the Cardassians.”

                Larson looked at Ranma before turning back to Bacco. “Others believe in it more than their own lives.”

                Bacco shook her head. “I still don't see it. What do the Vulcans have to gain?”

                “Most Vulcans don't want to be free of the Federation,” Larson admitted. “Of course, if the Federation killed several million of their people trying to reclaim their planet...”

                Bacco leaned back. “This is a lot for me to have to think about.”

                “There isn't time for you to think about it, ma'am,” Ranma moved right up to her desk, pushing past Larson. “Millions will die if you allow that fleet to attack Vulcan. The Federation will never be the same again.”

                Ranma sighed and rubbed his head. Genma looked at him with concern as Shampoo moved forward a bit. Ranma put his hand out, keeping them back.

                “The Vulcan Defense Minister, Saanik,” Ranma finally continued. “He died getting information from Salek to protect our alliance.” Ranma pointed to Kio. “Chief Warrant Officer Yuki lost a good man capturing Salek to protect this alliance.”

                Kio looked to Ranma as he continued.

                “Take all the time in the world to examine the evidence, Madam President. But please, stop those ships first.”

                Shampoo walked up to Ranma who was beginning to slouch. She put an arm around him to help hold him up. “Once torpedo leave ship, it cannot come back.”

                Bacco sat in silence for a moment. She then activated her terminal. “Get me Starfleet Command.”

                “Right away, ma'am,” a voice replied.

                After a pause. “This is James.”

                “Admiral, this is President Bacco.”

                “Yes ma'am.”

                “Recall the reclamation fleet to their staging positions.”

                After a moment pause, “Yes ma'am,” an obvious relieved James replied.

                Bacco turned to Larson. “If I don't like what I see, I will send them.”

                “We only wanted you to hear us out.”

                Bacco nodded. Genma turned to Larson. “The Salvation and the Infinity.”

                Larson nodded. “Oh, could you please ask the Terran Defense Fleet to stop destroying my ships?”

                Bacco nodded and started to do some more work on her terminal.

                “Ranma,” Shampoo said.

                Ranma was slowly falling to the floor. Shampoo was carefully holding him, keeping him from dropping. Genma noticed and moved over to his son.

                “Boy?”

                Rei also noticed Ranma and scurried over, along with several of the marines who could work as medics. Ryouga came over too.

                “Ranma?” Ryouga asked.

                Ranma has his eyes closed as Shampoo allowed him to go to the floor. Tre activated the communication system. “Medical emergency to the President's office.”

                “GET THOSE INHIBITORS DOWN!” Rei barked at her squad. The NEO team quickly went to work as concerned onlookers watched Ranma take shallow breaths.

                “Our shields are down,” Makoto reported.

                “Armor is failing.” Jansen also added, not so helpfully.

                “Keep us moving,” Minako ordered. “Don't let them get a good shot off.”

                Ikuhara nodded, but it was a futile attempt. The Salvation was a large ship and was nowhere near as agile as the ships in the Defense Fleet.

                Usagi's terminal began to beep wildly as the ship rocked. “We're venting plasma!!”

                “We're losing ventral aft armor plating,” Jansen reporter.

                Another hit.

                “HULL BREECHES.”

                'Welp.' Minako thought to herself. 'That's it.'

                “Abandon ship,” she ordered.

                The 'abandon ship' siren began to sound. Kaii, who was beginning to turn away from his station, heard a familiar voice and turned back. He looked and blinked.

                “Kaii. Come on,” Minako called as she walked towards the lifeboats.

                Kaii shook his head and pointed to the main viewer. Minako and the rest of the bridge crew who had gotten to the turbolift, turned, and watched as President Bacco appeared.

                “To the Terran Defense Fleet. Immediately cease aggression against the U.S.S. Infinity and the Romulan ship currently designated the U.S.S. Salvation. This is Presidential Order 726-021 dated 61228.4. Authorization 777-23-Gamma-Zulu-Beta. Acknowledge receipt.”

                The message then began to repeat. Makoto ran to her station and smiled. “The ships are breaking off their attack!”

                Minako smiled. “Cancel abandon ship. Recover any lifeboats that did launch.”

                “Aye,” Jansen said, heading to her station. Minako walked back to the captain's chair and sat down.

                'You did it, Captain,' She grinned.

THREE DAYS LATER; STARDATE 61237

                In orbit over the neutral planet of Risa was two small task forces of ships. One Vulcan, one Starfleet. In the middle of the Starfleet task force sat Bacco's transport. In the middle of the Vulcan task force, Sala's.

                Both groups of ships sat at full battle readiness, each waiting for the other to try and make an attempt to assassinate their leader. If either side was hoping to win any trust points with the other at this conference, it was going to take a lot of work.

                Orbiting, cloaked, on the opposite side of the planet was both the Salvation and the Infinity. Technically the Infinity's presence was a violation of the rules of the conference, as she qualified as a battleship, but Larson decided that if she could not be seen, she did not count.

                On the planet, Bacco and Sala nodded a greeting to each other before taking a seat at a medium sized conference table. Sala appeared slight upset that Bacco had brought Starfleet with her, however.

                “I was under the impression that this was a diplomatic meeting, Madam President,” Sala said.

                Bacco nodded. “It is. However, Admiral Larson is far more familiar with the evidence we wish to present to you, so I asked him to come along.”

                Sala conceded. “That is logical.”

                Bacco nodded to Larson, who passed Sala several PADDs. “High Commander, we have obtained this evidence that the Intelligence Minister, Salek, was working with Federation Councilman Zack Young to start a chain of events that would eventually lead to what has happened. The secession of Vulcan.”

                Sala started to look at the PADDs. “Which events?”

                “The Vulcan ship attacks on Federation vessels. The bombing in Nagoya. The attack on the LDF base,” Larson stated.

                “The attack on the LDF base was ordered by Saanik,” Sala stated.

                “We do not believe that to be the case,” Larson objected. “Unfortunately, any real evidence implicating Salek's tampering of MoD logs was likely destroyed when Salek blew up the MoI building.”

                “Where is Salek now?” Sala asked.

                “He is in our custody,” Larson replied.

                Sala paused. “Were you also responsible for attacking the prison facility and freeing Saanik?”

                Larson nodded. “Yes. We needed his information.”

                “And is he in your custody as well?”

                “Saanik is dead,” Larson responded bluntly, pushing over another PADD. “He died after attacking my crew and forcing a mind meld with Salek in order to extract information regarding this conspiracy.”

                Sala watched the video on the PADD. His face almost showing emotion as Salek admits to his role in pulling the alliance apart.

                “This is very...” Sala sets the PADD down. “...illogical.”

                Both Bacco and Larson nodded.

                “Councilman Young encouraged things on the Federation side,” Bacco stated. “We failed to trust, and because of that, things got out of hand quickly and now we're in the position that we're in now.”

                Sala sighed. “Trust seems to be something we are both short of.”

                “The alliance can be saved,” Larson nodded.

                “High Commander...” Bacco continued. “I failed to see it before, but it's been made quite clear to me. There can be no Federation without Vulcan.”

                Sala looked over the PADDs again. “I shall present this evidence to the High Command. Based on everything I have seen so far though, it appears that the secession was done in haste, and I will put forward a motion to retract it.”

                Sala stood. Bacco and Larson stood as well. “The General Assembly has already repealed 77280-G. Your military should be able to confirm that the ships staged at Wolf 3-5-9 are going back to where they were,” Bacco smiled.

                Sala nodded, did the Vulcan salute, and began to turn.

                “High Commander,” Larson called.

                Sala turned back.

                “Saanik was no traitor,” Larson said, lowering his head. “He died not only for Vulcan, but for all of the Federation.”

                Sala nodded. “I will take care of things.”

                He did the Vulcan salute again and he and his security detail walked out of the room.

                Bacco turned to Larson after Sala had left the room. “It appears you did it, Admiral.”

                Larson halfheartedly shrugged. “I didn’t do it alone.”

                Bacco nodded. “How is Captain Saotome?”

                “Recovering.”

-----

                Akane sat in a chair next to Ranma's bio bed, her hand holding on to Ranma's currently female hand. It was the same place Akane had been for the past twenty some hours since they had moved him from the Federation hospital on Earth back to the Salvation.

                Despite both Akane's and the doctor at the hospital’s objections, Larson insisted.

                “Ranma will be furious if he's not at the conference,” she remembered him saying.

                She knew Larson was probably right. At the same time though, Ranma would not be at the conference. He was still on board the ship, trapped in the induced coma the doctors on Earth had placed him in to allow his body to heal and his brain chemistry to correct itself.

                A doctor walked over to the pair as Akane squeezed Ranma's hand.

                “You're going to end up like that if you don't at least eat something,” the doctor told Akane.

                “I ate,” she mumbled.

                The doctor looked at her for a moment. Akane sighed, pointing to a crewman walking nearby. “Ask Ensign Bayh. He brought me a sandwich.”

                The ensign, upon hearing his name, turned, and nodded.

                The doctor smiled at Akane, then began to look over Ranma's bio signs. “Okay then.”

                Akane looked at Ranma as the red head breathed slowly and deliberately. “Is he better?”

                The doctor nodded. “Much.” He pulled out a couple of hyposprays. “And while he can't leave yet, I think we can go ahead and wake him up now.”

                Akane smiled. Probably for the first time since she heard of his collapse.

                The doctor injected one of the hypos, the turned to Akane. “He's going to be very groggy and he's going to need to take it easy for a couple of days once he leaves Sickbay.”

                Akane chuckled. “Trying to get him to take it easy is going to be quite a task in and of itself.”

                The doctor smiled and injected the other hypo. He patted Akane on the back and walked away as Ranma began to stir.

                “Ranma?” Akane asked.

                Ranma's eyes slowly began to twitch. His hand then gripped Akane's tightly, a slight feeling of confusion coming over him. Last thing he remembered he was in the President's office.

                “Where am I?” he finally asked, slowly opening his eyes.

                “You're in sickbay,” Akane replied, trying really hard not to cry. She knew she had to be strong. She had to make sure she did not upset Ranma. She had to make sure Ranma was okay first. She could be second right now.

                So many times, Ranma had put her first. This time, the tables would be turned.

                “The fleet...” Ranma asked, for once having no concern to why it was his female voice speaking.

                “You stopped them,” Akane responded with a smile.

                Ranma allowed a grin to creep across his face. The Captain began to try and sit up but failed. Akane grimaced at the image of Ranma struggling.

                “Here,” Akane stated as she adjusted the back of the bio bed, moving it from a flat position to more of an upright position.

                “Thanks,” Ranma acknowledged. Akane nodded and quickly moved to get Ranma a cup of water, which the red head drank and enjoyed, as it was the first water he had had in several days.

                Ranma was finally beginning to run on all engines again. He frustratedly looked down at his chest, the over to Akane.

                “What's the deal?” His raspy female voice asked.

                Akane chuckled, still holding back every urge she had to just grab him and cry uncontrollably. “Because of your body chemistry, your female body was able to heal faster.”

                Ranma looked at the lumps of fat and tissue that were pushing up his sickbay issue robe. “So, those are actually useful for a change?”

                Akane shook her head. “I think we both know you've used those to your advantage before.” Ranma considered objecting but didn't know if he had either a valid argument or the strength to pursue it. “But yes, your change was a big help to you, otherwise we probably have to keep you under for another couple of days.”

                “...Another couple of days?” Ranma asked. “How long...”

                “You collapsed a little over three days ago,” Akane replied, losing her smile.

                “What happened?”

                “You were being stubborn, pig-headed Ranma,” Akane replied.

                Ranma looked at her.

                “Your blood pressure was so high that the fact you didn't have a stroke was amazing. Your blood sugar was so low that we are all amazed that you managed to ward off hypoglycemia. The oxygen level in your blood was next to nil,” Akane stopped. She realized that she could no longer stop the tears from coming out of her eyes.

                “Akane...” Ranma whispered.

                “I'm sorry,” she said, wiping the tears away with one hand. She attempted to pull her other hand away from Ranma, however he managed to keep a hold of it.

                “No,” he replied, tugging on her hand. Akane leaned forward and put her head on his chest, allowing herself to cry further. Ranma also felt some tears come to his eyes as he placed his other hand on her head. He ran his hand though her hair as he inhaled deeply.

                “I constantly keep developing this tunnel vision,” he admitted. “I only see the end, never what's going on beside me.”

                Akane turned and looked at him. “You were doing what you think is best for the mission.”

                Ranma nodded. “I know, but at the same time, I know that I don't have to do everything myself. I guess I am just too much of a control freak.”

                Akane laughed. “You?”

                “I know, right?” Ranma smiled.

                The pair just looked at each other for about five minutes until the sickbay doors opened. Akane sat up and turned to see Larson walk in with Genma behind him.

                Genma essentially leaped over Larson but was blocked by Akane.

                “You will kill him,” she stated.

                Genma whimpered. Instead of massive hug and Soun style bawling he was planning, he instead gave his now conscious son/daughter a firm handshake.

                “Glad to see you're better, Ranma,” he stated.

                “Thanks pop,” Ranma smiled. The captain paused for a second though. Something was not quite right with Genma's uniform. He looked to the Rear-Admiral's pips. One... Two... Three?

                Rear-Admirals only get two.

                “Pop, did you steal someone's rank insignia?” Ranma asked.

                Genma scowled. “I got promoted.”

                “No kidding,” Ranma chuckled.

                Genma shook his head. “I will ignore that disrespect, as it's likely the medication talking.”

                Ranma smiled. “Likely.”

                Genma smiled at his son as Larson walked up to Ranma. “Ranma.”

                “Admiral.”

                “I am very happy you are feeling better.”

                “Thank you, sir.”

                Larson patted Ranma on the shoulder. “You will be happy to know that Sala is returning to Vulcan to retract the secession.”

                Ranma's smile could probably power the ship.

                “There are obviously some issues that need to be worked out, but both governments are going to be conducting investigations to try and purge any others who may have been involved with Young or Salek.

                “The Sub-Commander who launched the attack on the LDF base was just arrested. He was caught as he was attempting to leave Vulcan. Sala is also planning on pardoning Saanik, so that his name and reputation is cleared.”

                Ranma continued to smile. “That is great. Saanik was a Vulcan patriot.”

                Larson nodded. “Indeed, he was.”

                “What's to become of us?” Ranma asked.

                “Well, the Romulans want their ship back, so your crew will be transporting over to the U.S.S. Franklin for transport back to Earth. From there, I will be assigning you to leave until Starfleet Command decided whether they will continue the NEO program,” Larson explained.

                “There's talk of disassembling my crew?” Ranma asked, trying to sit up more, much to Akane's reluctance.

                “There's always been talk of it,” Larson nodded. “Remember how shocked you were at the existence of the Infinity?”

                Ranma nodded.

                “Some in Starfleet are just that shocked at the existence of a group whose sole purpose is offensive actions.”

                Ranma sighed. “Can't you do anything?”

                “No, I cannot,” Larson stated. “I have submitted my notification of retirement.”

                Ranma blinked. “Oh.”

                Larson smiled. “Space is a young man's game; I'm starting to realize. It's for people like you, not for people like me.”

                “If this is because of-”

                Larson shook his head, cutting Ranma off. “No, no. I know I overstepped my bounds, Ranma. I have made no mention of any of that in my reports. Even the part where you threatened to shoot me.”

                Ranma bit his lip. “Thanks...”

                Larson smiled. “I just think it's best to end your career with a win, and what better win than this, right?”

                Ranma nodded. “Sounds... Logical.”

                Larson smiled and gave Ranma a hug, but then paused. “This is far more awkward than it should be.”

                The room laughed.

                “Be safe, Captain.”

                Ranma nodded. “You too, Admiral.”

                Larson nodded and walked out the door.

THREE WEEKS AFTER RISA CONFERENCE; STARDATE 61295

                Tokyo, Japan – The weather gods appeared to be cooperating with the dozens of Starfleet officers who had shown up in their dress white uniforms. Most had appreciated that, as even the slightest bit of dirt showed up on them.

                Most of the functions one would normally attend in these were indoors where everything was climate controlled, so that was not a big deal. But outdoors, it could get messy, quickly.

                The day was chilly, an even cooler, salty breeze blowing in off Tokyo Bay. Akane was growing quite annoyed at Ranma's constant looking at the sky and she was not shy about telling him either.

                “There isn't a cloud to be seen. Would you calm down?”

                Ranma turned to her. “You know as well as I do that it just appears out of nowhere. I don't know why they didn't have this indoors.”

                Ranma turned away. “Of all people, you'd think HE would know better.”

                Most of the other Sisko/Salvation crew was there. The normal cliques were sitting together. Gosnell was dressed up in a very formal civilian outfit. Shampoo and Amanda, Kaii and Fuchs, JC and his surprisingly hot wife were all in attendance.

                Also in the group were several marines who Ranma recognized from his crew but did not know the names of.

                Noticeably absent though was Admiral Larson, despite having gotten an invitation. Ranma had attempted to contact him once seeing he was not there but had quickly learned that Larson no longer resided on Earth.

                This concerned him but was not something to be dealt with today.

                At long last, the group got quiet as the Starfleet Chaplin walked to the front where an alter was set up. Music started to play as the wedding party started to march in.

                Ryouga and his group of course came in first. While a few of the groomsmen where Sisko marines, Ranma had no idea who some of the others were. He was pleased that Ryouga had friends off the ship, but at the same time, was a little hurt that Ryouga did not ask him to be involved at all.

                Of course, Ranma did not even invite Ryouga to his wedding, so, turnabout is fair play.

                With the groomsmen came the bridesmaids. As one would expect, Makoto, Rei, and Usagi were all bridesmaids. Usagi seemed to be thrilled to be arm and arm with one of the marines, much to the chagrin of a security officer in the front row who, at one point at least, was apparently Usagi's date.

                Once everyone had reached the front, the music changed and the traditional 'Here Comes the Bride' wedding march played. Everyone stood as Minako and her father came walking up the aisle.

                “Wow,” Ranma vocalized what every single person in attendance was thinking.

                Akane scowled. All the same, she agreed. Minako looked stunning.

                Minako's dress was extremely elegant, with a train that flowed probably a meter behind her. Her makeup was perfect, making her already perfect face even more beautiful and her hair was made up in a spectacular way.

                “You suck,” Ryouga's best man whispered to him as Minako approached.

                Ryouga just smirked as he took Minako's hand from his future father-in-law and the pair turned to the Chaplin.

                The Chaplin went on to talk about weddings and starships and yammer on for about twenty minutes, reminding Ranma why he was happy that he simply had an Admiral perform a legal ceremony over subspace, before getting to the important stuff.

                “Ryouga...” the Chaplin turned to the smiling pig-boy. “Do you take Minako to be your wedded wife, and in the presence of these witnesses do you vow that you will do everything I your power to make your love for her a growing part of your life? Will-”

                “Yes!” Ryouga stated.

                “Please wait till I am done,” the Chaplin scolded.

                “Sorry,” Ryouga said softly, the spectators, chuckling. Minako looked at him, a large grin on her face, reassuring him that his blunder was okay.

                The Chaplin also smiled, forgiving Ryouga. “Will you continue to strengthen it from day to day and week to week with your best resources? Will you stand by her in sickness or in health, in poverty or in wealth, and will you shun all others and keep yourself to her alone as long as you both shall live?”

                Silence.

                “I'm done,” the Chaplin sighed.

                “I will,” Ryouga nodded.

                The Chaplin smiled and repeated the pledge to Minako. She looked into Ryouga's eyes and nodded.

“I will.”

                “The couple will now read their vows.” The Chaplin stated.

                Ryouga cleared his throat. “I, Ryouga Hibiki, take you, Minako Aino, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

                “I, Minako Aino, take you, Ryouga Hibiki, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

                Akane started to whimper. Ranma put his arm around her. “It's so beautiful,” she whispered.

                Ranma nodded as a small child, blonde, likely a relative a Minako walked up with the ring box. Ryouga bent down and took one of the rings out and slid it onto Minako's finger.

                “Because this ring is perfectly symmetrical, it signifies the perfection of true love. As I place it on your finger, I give you all that I am and ever hope to be,” He vowed.

                Minako took the other ring and slid it onto Ryouga's left ring finger. “Because this ring has no end or beginning, it signifies the continuation of true love. As I place it on your finger, I give you all that I am and ever hope to be.”

                There was some more ceremony before the Chaplin turned towards the audience. “Now that Ryouga and Minako have given themselves to each other by the promises they have exchange, by the authority granted to me by the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet Command, I now pronounce them husband and wife.”

                He turned to Ryouga. “Smooch away.”

                Ryouga, despite his aversion to public displays of affection, grabbed Minako and engaged her in a deep, passionate kiss. The group applauded.

                Akane, no longer limited herself to sniffling and was now fully crying into Ranma's arm. Ranma was doing his best to applaud and comfort his wife at the same time.

                *drip*

                Ranma paused. He looked at his hand and saw a single drop of water on it.

                A sudden thunderclap echoed in the park. Ryouga, who was still kissing Minako, pulled away. He quickly looked at the clouds forming overhead. He turned to the group. “CAKE IN THE RECEPTION AREA!!” He called, grabbing Minako's hand and starting to try and pull her that way.

                Ranma just laughed as the downpour started.

                Akane looked, down, at her now shorter, female husband, who was just laughing, as the rest of the people at the wedding were yelling and running for the reception building.

                “I told you,” Ranma said between laughs.

                Akane pulled on Ranma. “Come on.”

                “BWEE!”

                Akane stopped. “Did I just hear P-Chan?”

                Ranma kept laughing and pulled Akane herself. “No, no.”

-----

                Anthony felt a little out of place. Had he realized that Kio was going to wear her uniform, he would have worn his too. However, he realized that since he was simply tagging along, pretty much against her will to begin with, it did not matter that much.

                Besides, if he was out of uniform, he had less of a reason to listen to her orders.

                Not that she had been issuing any. The transport ride had been long and quiet. Kio insisting that they take the transport instead of beaming to their destination so that she would have plenty of time to think about exactly what she was going to say.

                Anthony thought the whole thing was a bad idea. However, he knew he could not stop her, so he would at least do what he felt was his purpose right now, and that was to be there for her.

                “Excuse me, Lieutenant?” a flight attendant asked, walking up to Kio and Anthony's row.

                Indeed, the rank was right. Kio had finished her last class and had graduated from Officer Candidate School and was promoted from Chief Warrant Officer to 2nd Lieutenant in the Land Defense Corps.

                Kio turned to the flight attendant. “Yes?”

                “The pilot wanted me to let you know that we will be arriving in Portland slightly behind schedule due to some weather we had to fly around.”

                Kio nodded. “I'm not in any real hurry anyway. Thank you.”

                The flight attendant nodded and walked off. Anthony smiled. “I see those silver bars are really working out for you if you're getting transport pilots to make special stops.”

                Kio snorted. “I think it was more the latinum that got him to make the stop than the rank.”

                Anthony blinked. “Oh.”

                Kio patted Anthony's knee. “Don't worry. Pets fly free.”

                Anthony scoffed at the concept of being considered a pet, though he did not like the idea of having to come up with his share of whatever Kio paid this guy either.

                The pair rode in silence for another hour till the transport landed at the Portland, Maine station. The two disembarked, thanked the transport pilot and walked off to find a taxi.

                “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Anthony asked.

                “No,” Kio replied truthfully. “And to be honest, I don't know why I am doing it. But there is just something in me that makes me feel like I must, and that I won't be able to continue, anything really, until I do.”

                She turned to Anthony. “I feel like I am going to be a risk until I do this.”

                “What if you don't get the response you want?”

                Kio shrugged as a taxicab saw them and pulled over. “Maybe it won't be as much the destination as the journey. Or maybe I will quit. I don't know.”

                The pair got into the cab.

                “Where to?” The driver asked.

                “61 Bay Street.”

                The driver nodded and set off. Kio turned to Anthony. “Nicky was my husband and asides from the funeral, I barely saw his parents after I-”

                “You didn't,” Anthony interjected.

                Kio nodded. “After we were ambushed.”

                “You can't, Kio. Not if you want to be a solider. Not if you want to be anything but a grunt,” Anthony argued. “We'd have Admirals from wars that happened a hundred years ago still visiting people.”

                Kio leaned back.

                “Sorry for eavesdropping,” the driver called back. “My son was killed in the Dominion war. He was on the U.S.S. Henry Lopez. They ordered them into take out one of those white factories. Whatever that crap was called.”

                “I'm sorry,” Kio said.

                The driver shook his head. “It sucks he died, but the factory was destroyed, and it helped the greater good. I knew there was a risk, and I would have rather he did something nice and safe and still be here with me...” The driver stopped for a minute but then continued. “But I am proud of him. All you guys. And I certainly don't hold any grudges against the guys who ordered him into the mission that killed him.”

                “None?” Kio asked.

                “Had it been for no purpose or something self-serving, maybe,” the driver admitted as the cab came to a stop. He turned to the pair in the backseat. “But like I said, this was for all of us. Thumbprint here, please.”

                Anthony grabbed the PADD before Kio could and placed his thumbprint on it. “Least I could do.”

                Kio smiled at Anthony, then at the cab driver. “Thanks.”

                The driver nodded as Kio and Anthony got out of the cab. Kio looked up the walkway at the large house in front of her.

                “Goodness,” Anthony commented. “Why didn't he become a doctor?”

                Kio smiled as she stepped forward, Anthony right behind her. Anthony shadowing her caused her to stop. “Tony.” She said, not turning around. “I need to do this,” Kio stressed the word 'I' causing Anthony to back up a bit.

                A little concerned, Anthony relented. “You know why I came, don't you?”

                “Because you'd be lonely otherwise?” Kio smirked.

                “There's that.”

                Kio nodded. “I'll be fine.”

                Anthony nodded, stepped forward, wrapped his arms around Kio and kissed the back of her head. “I will be right here, Lieutenant.”

                Kio grabbed Anthony's hands and held them for a moment. Anthony let her go; Kio slowly released his hands and slowly walked up the pathway finally reaching the door.

                She hit the buzzer and waited.

                After what seemed like forever, an older man finally answered the door. Kio was almost knocked over backwards by the resemblance. It was almost like she was staring at a, albeit slightly aged, ghost.

                “Can I help you?” the man asked, surprised to see, another, Starfleet person showing up at their doorstep.

                “Mr. Simpson?”

                “Dr. Simpson, yes.”

                Kio nodded. “I'm sorry. Dr. Simpson. I'm...” Kio inhaled. She was getting pretty upset with herself. She was a professional solider. Why was talking to someone so goddamned hard for her?

                “Who is it, Michael?” a woman asked, walking to the door.

                Kio looked to see who she assumed was Mike's mother standing there.

                Kio stood up a little straighter. “I am Lt. Kio Yuki,” she finally got out. She was about to explain who she was with, but the look on both parents faces told her that Mike had already told them about her.

                “I see,” Dr. Simpson replied.

                “I was wondering if I could speak with you?” Kio asked.

                The Simpson patriarch nodded and escorted Kio in. “What about your friend?” Mrs. Simpson asked.

                Kio looked at Anthony who was simply standing at the end of the walkway, looking a little pathetic from that viewpoint.

                “He's okay,” Kio replied, following Dr. Simpson.

                Dr. Simpson sat down at the dining room table. “Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Simpson asked.

                “No, thank you,” Kio replied.

                Mrs. Simpson walked into the room and placed a cup of coffee down in front of her husband, who had not taken his eyes off of Kio since he sat down and sat down with one herself.

                “Please sit down,” Mrs. Simpson instructed.

                Kio complied, sitting down across from the pair.

                “Michael told us you were a Chief Warrant Officer,” Dr. Simpson stated.

                “Yes, but I had been working on completing Officer Candidate School, and just finished it a couple weeks ago,” Kio explained.

                Dr. Simpson nodded. “I see.”

                “We didn't see you at his service,” Mrs. Simpson mentioned.

                Kio shook her head. “We were stuck in debriefings. I can assure you I was not pleased about it.”

                “Why are you here now?” Dr. Simpson finally asked.

                Kio paused. She did not really know herself. “I don't know. I haven't been myself since he was killed, and I thought maybe if I apologized-”

                “Apologized?” Dr. Simpson interrupted. “Was it your fault?”

                “I- I don't know.”

                “I'm not in the military, but I know if a patient dies in surgery, I can figure out pretty quickly whether or not I caused it,” Dr. Simpson barked.

                “Michael,” Mrs. Simpson scolded.

                “He was providing cover fire for myself and Sgt. Schaefer – the man outside,” Kio explained.

                “That was his job?” Dr. Simpson asked.

                Kio nodded.

                “Then how could it be your fault?” Dr. Simpson asked.

                Kio started to talk but couldn't.

                “Lieutenant, the only one who could possibly apologize to me for making a stupid decision is dead,” Dr. Simpson stated. Kio looked at the doctor as he continued. “I wanted my son to follow in my footsteps. He carried my name. The boy even looked like me.”

                Dr. Simpson stood and walked to a desk and picked up several PADDs and brought them back. He set them down in front of Kio before walking back to his seat.

                “Instead, he decided he was going to be his own person and run off and join Starfleet. He and I didn't speak for years after that.

                “Despite my instructions otherwise, his mother did in fact talk to him, and we eventually made amends once I realized how foolish I was being, and his mother got him to admit that being a doctor would have been a better decision.”

                Kio laughed, despite trying not to. “He said as much.”

                Dr. Simpson, for the first time, grinned. It did not last long though. “I am far from pleased about losing my only child. It breaks my heart and is one of the most devastating things one will ever have to go through.

                “However, the decision to join Starfleet and then the decision to go onto your ship was his. Despite my objections and everything, I understand what he did and why he did it. I am very proud of him and respect him.”

                Mrs. Simpson pointed to the PADDs. “These are letters he was sending us. He tells us a lot about the missions you guys did. Nothing he wasn't supposed to say, but more of social aspect of your interactions together.”

                Kio began to look at one.

                “He really enjoyed working with you, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Simpson added.

                Kio began to laugh as she read one. “...It's like waiting for the high school quarter-back to ask the captain of the cheer leading squad out to prom?”

                “He apparently thought that Sgt. Schaefer had a crush on you,” Dr. Simpson stated.

                Kio smirked. “I think he does as well.”

                Mrs. Simpson smiled as she went through some of the PADDs. She finally found the one she was looking for and handed it to Kio.

                Kio felt a tear come to her eye as she read it. “...sometimes I really thought I should have listened to dad. However now it's different. She's the most solid CO I have served under in these seven years...”

                Kio paused before reading the last line.

                “Kio's the only one I actually think I would step in front of a phaser for.”

                Kio set down the PADD and looked to the two parents. Mrs. Simpson took one of Kio's hands in hers to comfort her as Dr. Simpson spoke.

                “Lieutenant, if you want reassurance that we're not upset, angry or heartbroken, then I am afraid you've come to the wrong house. Our family ends with us now, and that hurts.”

                Kio nodded slowly.

                “And we certainly cannot forgive you for Michael's death, simply because his death was not your fault,” Dr. Simpson said, placing his hand on Kio's other hand. “I know it, my wife knows it, Michael would know it. You must know it as well.”

                Kio nodded and the group stood.

                “Would you like to take these?” Mrs. Simpson asked, motioning towards the PADDs.

                Kio shook her head. “I have my own memories of Mike,” she said, looking at a picture of Mike in his dress uniform that hung on the Simpson's wall. “Besides,” she smiled, “there are likely some things in there I don't want to know.”

                Mrs. Simpson smiled as she an Dr. Simpson escorted Kio to the door. Once there, Kio turned, and hugged both.

                “Lieutenant,” Dr. Simpson spoke, just before Kio activated the door.

                “Yes sir?” she asked.

                “Michael was very smart, despite his decision to become a solider instead of a doctor,” Mrs. Simpson scowled at him. He ignored it and continued. “If he believed you are quality commander, then I am sure you are.”

                Kio smiled. “Thank you.”

                The doctor smiled at Kio as she turned and left the residence, finding Anthony exactly where she left him. The two Simpsons watched her walk down the pathway before shutting the door.

                Once Kio had reached Anthony, she sat down on a stone step. Anthony sat down next to her. He turned to her, to see her both smiling and crying.

                “Kio?”

                Kio turned and embraced Anthony. Anthony returned the embrace and let Kio cry into his shirt for a while. Finally, Kio spoke.

                “Do I remind you of a cheerleader?”

-----

STARDATE 61372 – 7 WEEKS AFTER RISA CONFERENCE

                Ranma peered out the window of the crowded transport. He could see nothing but stars. The last time this happened he ended up with a cloaked ship, an overbearing Admiral, and in the hospital for almost two weeks.

                They assured him that he was being assigned to a Federation ship. In fact, a majority of his crew was still intact; and based on the number of people crammed into this transport, all being transported at once.

                “Shampoo no see ship,” Shampoo stated, squeezing between Ranma and Akane, echoing Ranma's thoughts.

                Akane, none too happy to have Shampoo's breasts touching her husband, pushed her back. “We're still early.”

                Shampoo growled, before being pulled back by an also growling Lt. Jansen. Ranma, not interested in being involved in THAT type of fight again, squeezed his way up towards the transport pilot.

                He blinked.

                “Ryouga?” he asked.

                Indeed, marine Captain Ryouga was at the helm of the transport. “Yo.”

                “Well, that explains it.” Ranma snarled.

                “I'm on course, Captain,” Ryouga countered, pointing at the controls. “The ship is just not here.”

                Ranma looked at the panel. As Ryouga indicated, the ship was indeed on course and was being piloted by the computer, so Ryouga's sense of direction was playing no part in his piloting.

                Ranma sighed and began to move back towards the passengers when a bright flash of light appeared in front of them. The group suddenly found themselves face to face with a port nacelle.

                The screams of the passengers were barely overheard by the proximity alarms going off. Ryouga managed to pull the ship away, keeping it from slamming into the engine.

                “Jesus, who's piloting that thing?” Ranma asked.

                “Not me!” Ryouga smirked.

                Ranma grinned.

                “We're being hailed,” the co-pilot mentioned.

                Ranma nodded and the transmission started. “Hey boy,” Genma's voice bellowed.

                “Dammit pop,” Ranma scowled. “You nearly hit us.”

                “Listen you little ingrate. I bring you a brand-new ship and this is how you treat me?”

                “A lot of good a new ship will do me if I am dead.”

                Genma snarled a bit before relenting. “Please dock in shuttle bay one, and then make your way to the bridge with your senior staff.”

                The transmission ended. Ranma looked to Ryouga. “Can you back us up. I wanna take a look.”

                Ryouga nodded and backed the transport off. Back and back. Ranma blinked a couple of times and then smiled broadly.

                “She looks just like her,” Ranma finally said.

                The all the passengers looked out every available window to see. Sitting before them was a ship, apparently right out of drydock. Spitting image of the U.S.S. Benjamin Sisko.

                “Okay, let's dock,” Ranma ordered.

                “I wonder if she's Akira class or Trinity class?” Minako pondered.

                Ranma shrugged.

                Ryouga and the co-pilot complied and brought the ship around to the aft side. As they passed the nacelle that nearly killed them, Ranma's grin grew. Painted on the top of the engine was the registry NX-74133.

                “NX,” Shampoo grinned.

                Akane took Ranma's hand.

-----

                Ranma and the remainder of the senior staff walked out onto the bridge. Ranma took in a deep breath and grinned. “Still has that new ship smell,” he stated.

                The rest of the group agreed and followed him down to Genma who was standing next to the unoccupied helm station.

                “IT WAS YOU?!” Ranma exclaimed.

                “Shut up,” Genma ordered.

                Ranma sighed and let it go. For now.

                “Captain Ranma Saotome,” Genma began to read from his PADD. “By order of Starfleet Command, you are here by requested and commanded to take command of the U.S.S. Nassau, NX-74133, Trinity Class starship; and her crew order dated 61372.”

                Genma flipped to another PADD. “Furthermore, you are requested and commanded to take command of the NEO Special Operations Task Force, hereinafter known as NEO, to be assigned to U.S.S. Nassau, by order of Starfleet Command, dated 61372.”

                Genma smiled at his son. Ranma smiled back. “I relieve you,” Ranma stated.

                “I stand relieved.”

                Genma transferred over the authorization codes to Ranma before poking him in the chest. “Now don't go crashing this one. We aren't made of secret spaceships.”

                Ranma smiled. “I'll do my best.”

                Genma slowly began to walk away for Ranma started to speak again.

                “Nassau is a nice name and everything...”

                Genma laughed and tossed a PADD back to Ranma. “I knew you were going to say that.”

                Ranma read the PADD. “From Starfleet Command, special authorization to change the name of the U.S.S. Nassau to USS Benjamin L. Sisko.”

                Ranma turned to his father.

                “I had them repaint the ship before I left. That's why I was late.”

                Ranma smiled, walked up to his dad, and hugged him. “Thanks, pop.”

                “You know I love ya, you ingrate.”

                Genma pulled away from Ranma and walked to the turbolift. Ranma quickly turned that direction.

                “I never asked, now that Larson is gone, who is our oversight admiral?”

                Genma smiled as the doors closed. “Me!”

                “Oh,” Ranma nodded. He made it halfway down to his chair before stopping. “Wait, what?” He turned back towards the turbolift, but it was far too late. His father was long gone.

                Shampoo smiled at him, as did Akane who was standing next to the captain's chair at the CONN. “Could be worse,” Akane smiled.

                Ranma nodded. “I suppose.”

                Shampoo turned to Ranma. “Last transports boarding now.”

                Minako, who was fidgeting with the ring on her finger, noticed her panel beeping. Kaii turned to her. “You going to get that, or should I?” he asked.

                Minako, still in happy bliss, waved at him. Kaii sighed and decided he would do it, simply to have a reason to get her to do something for him later.

                “Captain, Starfleet needs us to respond to a distress call nearby. Klingon outpost is being attacked by Breen raiders,” Kaii reported.

                Ranma nodded and turned to Shampoo.

                “All crew on board, all transports and Admirals off,” she reported.

                Ranma nodded. “Ensign Ikuhara, set a course, maximum warp.”

                “Aye,” Ikuhara replied.

                “The Sisko to the rescue,” Makoto stated.

                “As it was, as it is, and as it always shall be,” Ranma stated.

                “Course laid in,” Ikuhara stated.

                Akane leaned into Ranma. “I think I'd like to have a baby.”

                “Engage,” Ranma stated, before turning to Akane, his bottom jaw hitting the deck with a loud echoing clang.

                The ship turned and shot off into a flash of light.

                “Wait, what?”