Cmdr Ba'alyo

Ba'alyo lowered himself slowly into the center chair on the bridge. Maybe it was the memory of the plasma plague on Obi VI, but bringing an ailing member of another species made him wary. Unconsciously, he glanced toward the tactical console formerly occupied by Doug. He knew the medical protocols were thorough, but he still felt unease with an unknown situation he couldn't control. He glanced around at the bridge crew - humans had been doing this kind of exploration for at least a century longer than the Efrosians. He looked at Savros, still hunched over the sensor scope. Vulcans had been exploring for at least a century longer than that. The starship Intrepid, crewed entirely by Vulcans, had made First Contact with his homeworld thirty years ago. Before then, Efros Delta had only limited contact with other species. It had begun a new era, ushering them into the galactic community. He looked at the alien ship onscreen, listing gently from its slow atmospheric and plasma leaks. It seemed to carry only a rudimentary warp drive - it could even be their first experiment with a prototype. Was this a First Contact situation for that race? Would the name Challenger be taught to their future students the way Intrepid and its officers were known to him? Or would they be associated with memories of a failed dream and tragic disaster? There were forty life forms - no, thirty-nine, one had winked out, he recalled - over there in varying forms or unconsciousness or distress, according to the boarding party. What had caused it? Reed was training her navigation sensors, looking for some indication of the arrival trajectory of the alien ship. She had ruled out a traditional warp trail, suggesting that a wormhole had been involved. She was combing through the astronomical database for indications of such phenomena. Personally, he didn't sense any imbalance in the surrounding subspace, but there was no telling if his species' sensitivities would even detect such a thing. Savros turned. "Nitara, take over the scope." The Vulcan turned in his chair to face the center. "Commander, if you don't mind, I'd like to go off duty," he requested. "I seem to be experiencing some eye strain or... headache." Ba'alyo frowned slightly. He knew the science officer had been through a fairly trying period of change, but he wasn't eager to lose him in the middle of this mystery. "Of course, Lieutenant," he answered anyway, knowing this was no time to push. "Head to sickbay, if you feel the need." Savros stood, shaking his head. "Doctor Juno and his staff will be dealing with their new patients," he noted, "but perhaps I will rest first, then chose a less active time." "As you see fit," the XO replied. He watched the Vulcan go, noting Nitara assuming the console. Poldara was over there, on the derelict, with the captain and his team. Absently, he stroked the white whiskers of his beard, staring at the alien ship and the shuttle attached to it. He hoped the captain could learn something that would dismiss the sense of wariness building inside him.

I've given the series a chance since my initial estimation of the pilot as dull and derivative, although I still think that episode was both. The first post-pilot episode (actually like part-three of three) was the desert one. Everybody's got to do a hiking through the desert episode ("Go on without me!"), and this one wasn't too bad. Kudos for Eli, I'm liking his character despite the derivative origins. Not as over-the-top, out of place humor as (and I know I'll catch flak for this) O'Neill often displayed. Our DVR missed the second episode, so I had to catch it and the third back-to-back the following week, which was actually pretty good. I agree with Tachyon and didn't like the unpleasant, unprofessional behavior of Rush - even if you want to say he was impaired, it's hard to justify keeping everyone out of the loop and putting all your intellectual eggs in one basket. Megalomanic much? Not a bad episode, especially after I thought about how they seem to be doing one of the derivative ideas much better than the source (more on that in a moment). The third episode was them plunging toward the sun, the lottery, and such. Good episode. Tachyon correctly cites that the episode was based on the bad literary device of having things just happen to the characters, yet I still thought this was the most exciting. The characters wrestled with life-and-death choices, what to do on their last day, making their peace, etc. Good character development. OK, so I was largely jazzed by their correct use of orbital mechanics and astronomy - the woman who described how knowing the star's size and temperature would let them extrapolate the probable planetary environments (close-in, tidally locked, wind blown), that was real science. Somebody did their homework, 'cause it was very accurate. OK, so other people have made the Voyager connection, which for older folks had it own Lost in Space connection. One thing that the Voyager producers originally claimed was that they'd have to deal with not having a starbase around, taking damage, dealing with shortages. Aside from a few token problems or the needed resource of the week, this never happened on Voyager. Shuttles were magically restocked. The holodeck was always running (yes, I know, some sort of technobabbel "alternate power source" they couldn't use for anything else). Even the lost redshirts never seemed to reduce the overall crew numbers. (I loved how they never referred to their lost XO, helmswoman, and doctor from the pilot again.) And the captain seldom had to do without her replicated coffee. Things remained shiny and new. Although they've seemingly solved the energy problem on Stargate Universe (so can they dial back now?), they could still capitalize on the lost at sea motif - the need to repair things, to gather food, and trade with native species. I'm actually more worried that the communication stones, while internally consistent, keeps them in touch with Starfleet Command (whoops, mixing genres) too much. I mean, could Kirk have existed if he'd had Admirals telling him what to do all the time? So, I'm still giving the series a shot. BSG's pilot was kind of downer, if I recall, but it got much. much better before it took that nose dive at the end.

Kansas' observations about all the derivations from other shows is right (although you forgot the Eli / The Last Starfighter connection), but my biggest complaint is that it was... DULL. I DVR'ed this show and it took me three nights to watch it. I fell asleep half-way through, started it up the next night and made it two commercials later, and finally got it done last night. Just as things were picking up... TO BE CONTINUED. So they gave me two hours of exposition and character introduction and yet still managed to avoid the premise-driving question, "Why don't they just dial home?"

The following takes place before Challenger received the distress call at the end of last week's sim... The long-range sensors of Starbase 19 spanned a largely-empty, twenty-light year swath of Federation territory between major space lanes. Traffic heading to and from the Klingon border tended to continue unstopped, leaving the region to largely local concerns. The starbase administered a few fledgling colonies and science outposts, but also dealt with multiple non-aligned species - the Xarantine, the Yridian, far-flung Acamarian colonies, and other Prime Directive protectorates - within its influence. This left a great deal of the sector open to exploration and quiet observation. Onboard the spaceborne element of Starbase 19, Ensign Cerus was responsible for monitoring interstellar traffic and navigation across the entire sector. Despite his low rank, it was a position for which he was ideally suited and kept constant vigil. His living quarters, although they kept him physically isolated from the rest of the crew, encompassed three levels of the orbiting station. His "workstation" was no less than a direct interface with the facility's subspace and sensor network. Over the last two years of his assignment, Cerus had methodically compiled a significantly detailed cartographic map of the adjoining systems, including nuances of stellar drift and unique gravimetric interaction. He had applied his sublime intellect toward noting even minor ripples in the surrounding subspace - all the better to track the expansion of Regulan trade and the unwanted growth of illicit Yridian smuggling. The appearance of the unknown ship might otherwise have escaped notice. It had emerged between system without showing a clearly traceable warp signature. In fact, the method of its conveyance didn't match any known method of propulsion. Using his non-corporeal energies, Cerus had engaged the station sensors. The ship bore life, although from this distance it could not be resolved into number or type. It emitted no Federation or standard transponder. Although there was a brief burst of communication, the translator could not identify the language. There was no protocol to suggest whether the ship was requesting aid. And yet he knew they were in distress. Were there subtle details in the sensor that somehow invoked a subconscious resolution of their danger? Had the beings aboard stirred some sensitive aspect of his Medusan physiology? Or was he simply yielding to an unwarranted conclusion, a softening compassionate for unknown life? Cerus summoned the communications chief, already assessing fleet records for the availability of responding ships. The Thufir-class Ushaan was in drydock, but undergoing warp core refurbishment. The Constellation-class Pleides was on an interdiction mission on the other end of the sector. The USS Goddard was conducting observation of a nearby Prime Directive civilization, but the Oberth-class scout had limited crew and could take more than a day to divert. Cerus expanded his search, immediately hitting on a candidate. The starship Challenger was a full sector away and on shore leave, but as an Excelsior-class, would be able to cover the distance in far less time. But should he classify the observation as a ship in distress? Truth be told, he had little more than intuition to go on. His consideration took only a few seconds. He forwarded the designation as a distress call. It was a judgment call, he admitted, but he felt much clearer about a career risk than the lives he would risk by failing.

Ba'alyo leaned both elbows against the small table in his room, running his hands back and through his white mane of hair. He let the smell of the strong Klingon concoction waft up through his nostrils, bringing him to an increased alertness. It was hot. It was strong. It was uber-coffee. He'd managed to take what his Academy roommate had called a "power nap" during the few hours they'd been towing the starship Cepheus back to the Elasian side of the asteroid field. But it was time to get back to work. He shook his head, as if to physically cast off the drowsiness. He wanted to think clearly, even if the motivations for these border tensions was anything but clear. The willingness of the Troyians to take on a Federation starship, even at odds of seven to one, seemed to confirm there were other forces - external influences - at work. Zareh had been pursuing what he believed was a cloaked Romulan ship, and they'd already run into a disabled Klingon ship. The area was seething with intrigue. But who was pulling the strings? And what should Challenger's next step be? They'd been bounced between the two sides, but in the end, it had been necessary to use deadly force to fend off the Troyians. Diplomatic neutrality didn't mean not shooting back when attacked. At least, he hoped it didn't. Now they drifted in Elasian space, waiting. The regent had pulled back further into his own space. The Troyians had retreated toward the captured Elasian station inside the asteroid field. A subspace minefield surrounded that. There might be a Romulan ship in there, which would end all pretense of Federation neutrality, but they had little proof. Should the ship withdraw from the area as a disinterested third-party, even through they'd been attacked? Had this matter fallen to the diplomats? Or would the captain decide the Romulan possibility demanded that Challenger move into that minefield? Ba'alyo slid his hand around the hefty mug, lifted it, and poured the near-scalding contents into his mouth. With a satisfying breath, he set it down, got to his feet and headed out of his cabin.

Commander Ba'alyo walked to one end of the conference table. The Excelsior-class had been designed with the innovation of a briefing room on the same deck as the bridge, slightly lower and aft. In his career, he'd served on some fine Miranda and Constitution refits, but none offered such a convenience. He hoped it would remain a standard for future starship classes. Captain Seiben had asked him to provide the crew with a short status as they entered the Prosperity system. Representatives for all the departments had gathered here. Reaching the end of the table, he remained standing. He noted Lieutenant Teros was standing near the door on the other end, arms folded, his Andorian features drawn in a scowl. "As you know," the first officer began, his voice a low growl, "the situation along the Elasian-Troyian border has deteriorated. We narrowly avoided being drawn into a skirmish less than an hour ago." He looked down the table toward Harris, who was representing the medical staff. "That was the cause of our last alert," he added, for her benefit. He lowered his Efrosian frame into the available chair. "Most of you were on the bridge," Ba'alyo acknowledged, "but the captain wanted to make sure everyone knew the fullness of our situation." He looked to the communications officer at his right. Since she had handled the confusing traffic, it seemed right to let her speak. "Lieutenant Lessard," he prompted, "can you tell us what we learned from cyptography?" Although not forewarned, the young officer sat up straighter, ready to respond. "According to what we intercepted," she began, "the Troyians hit an outpost in the nearby asteroid field. They kidnapped one of the royal princes of Elaas, in line to rule one of the larger soverignties. There's been a ransom demand and threats of counter-strike." Ba'alyo nodded. "Border tensions are high," he added. He tapped an illuminated button on the table, which initiated a tactical replay on the table display. M'Guire and Reed seemed to watch with added interest. "The Elasians fired on two Troyian ships entering their space. The first thing the Troyians did was flee toward us, sending out a distress call." He shifted in his chair, with a slight grumble. "That didn't stop either side from taking shots in our vicinity. When we asserted our neutrality, both sides broke off." The replay showed two green dots warp toward the border offscreen, while the four orange dots regrouped. "We could have taken them," Teros offered from one end of the table. "Without orders, we're bound to avoid involvement," Ba'alyo continued, "although sickbay should be prepared to assist casualties from either side." He took a slow breath. "In the interest of maintaining a presence, we've moved into the Prosperity system to... secure Federation lives and property in the area." He looked toward the communications officer again. "Tell us more about these 'lives and property', Lieutenant." Again, without forewarning, Lessard seemed prepared. "A warehouse and the single merchant ship Spacematic, which has one of the most antiquated answering systems I've..." she trailed off, then resumed. "Both are owned by a trader named Cyrano Jones." The commander nodded. "And we've made arrangements to meet with Mr. Jones down on the planet." Lessard frowned a little, "Yes, but to be honest, sir, I don't think he understands the gravity of the regional situation. He was more interested in selling us maps to avoid the increased military traffic." Ba'alyo pursed his lips, making the ends of his flowing white mustache lift. With a low grumble, he went on. "We'll have to explain it to him," he concluded. "We don't want either side using him to force Starfleet into this conflict." He leaned back in the chair, thinking. "Which brings us to the Klingons." Dr. Harris, not having been on the bridge, looked the most surprised by this seeming non sequitur. "Starfleet Headquarters has advised us that we could see increased movement in our area," he explained. "The Organians have announced they will no longer enforce their treaty along the Klingon border." He raised his hand before the questions started coming. "There will be time to consider the broader implications later. The President assured Starfleet that this doesn't derail the ongoing peace process," he assured, "but it does mean the Klingons may feel a freer hand to see what's going on with their old trading partner." He looked toward Teros, who was still standing. "We should remain alert toward any presence." "And Elasian attempts to draw them in," Kimiko added. Ba'alyo let the comment speak for itself. He glanced at the chronometer. "I was going to take questions, but the beam down is scheduled in a few minutes. Each department should plan to be represented - Lessard will provide specifics once we know who the captain wants to bring. Don't keep him waiting long in the transporter room." He stood. "If you have any concerns, I'll stay afterward to discuss. Otherwise, dismissed."

USS CHALLENGER: Elaas or Bust LAST WEEK (04/26): Challenger left Epsilon 7 on its way to Elasian space with Vulcan Ambassador Praal. Mission preparations were made, with much of the crew recovering from their recent shore leave. Teros, suffering a massive hangover, wakes up in an enlisted locker and winds up sleeping off the effects in the brig. MISSION BRIEFING (TBS ~2 days): Challenger will arrive at the Elasian border, to be conducted toward their home space for talks.

USS CHALLENGER: A Taut Line LAST WEEK (06/14): Amidst increasing tensions between the Elasians and Troyians, starships Challenger and Cepheus continue toward the Prosperity system to protect a Federation trader there. After learning of the kidnapping of an Elasian prince, things turn for the worse when both sides start a skirmish nearing the arriving Federation ships. The Troyians issue a distress call, but neither starship responds. It is only when weapons fire gets too close, Challenger warns both sides to respect Federation neutrality and keep their distance. Captain Seiben receives word that the Organian Peace Treaty has now lapsed, which could foreshadow a Klingon presence in the area. MISSION BRIEFING: (TBS ~30 minutes) Both ships have arrived at the Prosperity system. Captain Seiben is leading a landing party to the surface to confer with trader Cyrano Jones and plan next steps. Ths ship remains on alert, watching for signs of border activity from either side or from third parties.

USS CHALLENGER: Gunboat Diplomacy LAST WEEK (06/07): Challenger and Cepheus met in the Obalarin system to exchange intelligence on recent Elasian and Troyian fleet activities. Together, the bridge crew confirmed that fleets were converging on an asteroid field near their respective borders. Lacking information, the command staff decided to move toward the nearby Prosperity system to "protect Federation lives and property" there. Both ships have plotted courses that will bypass the asteroid field on different sides, allowing a detailed scan of the interior. In sickbay, Ambassador Praan survived his cardiac surgery and is recovering. MISSION BRIEFING: (TBS ~2 days) As next sim begins, Challenger will be approaching the Prosperity system, having completed its scan of the asteroid field. Science and Nav will analyze details of this scan. Comm will coordinate with the sole Federation merchant ship operating in the area. Security will continue investigating the cause of Praan's ailment. Medical continues treatment of the Ambassador and provides information on Elasian physiology, in the event hostilities break out. Engineering and Helm need to maintain battle readiness in case either side chooses a violent objection to Starfleet presence.

USS CHALLENGER: New Vantages LAST WEEK (05/31): Beaming back from a diplomatic dinner aboard the Elasian flagship, Ambassador Praan collapsed and was taken to sickbay. Coincidentally, the Elasian regent signalled that pressing matters required a delay in talks with the Federation. Their fleet withdrew and Challenger sensors determined their convergence on the Troyian border. After confering with Captain Zareh of the starship Cepheus over subspace, Challenger returned to Federation space for a rendezvous in the Obalarin system. MISSION BRIEFING (TBS ~1 day): Challenger is entering the Obalarin system to gather and share intelligence with the starship Cepheus. Bridge officers will be tasked to assess and continue their tracking of the Elasian fleet. Ambassador Praan remains in stable condition as science, medical, and security staff try to determine the cause of his ailment. BACKGROUND: USS Cepheus The starship Cepheus is a newly-launched member of the four-nacelle Constellation-class, a design that recently completed certification trials. The ship, under command of Captain Alessandro Zareh, was in the region to liaise with the Troyian government.

USS CHALLENGER: Swift Changes LAST WEEK (05/24): Ambassador Praan, Captain Seiben, and a team of senior officers continued their diplomatic dinner aboard the Elasian flagship Valarin, noting the lengthy absence of Lord Regent Aon. Onboard Challenger, the bridge crew monitored unusual movements in the Elasian fleet. MISSION BRIEFING (TBS ~2 hours): The diplomatic dinner party returns to the ship, in preparation for commencement of the official talks.

USS CHALLENGER: Meet and Greet, Part II LAST WEEK (05/17): Ambassador Praan, Captain Seiben, and a team of senior officers commenced a diplomatic dinner aboard the Elasian flagship Valarin, meeting with Lord Regent Aon. The party enjoyed a wide assortment of decadent foodstuffs and exchanged pleasantries with the upper-crust of the Elasian government. MISSION BRIEFING (TBS 0): The diplomatic dinner party continues aboard the Elasian ship Valarin.

USS CHALLENGER: Meet and Greet LAST WEEK (05/10): As Challenger continued lengthy arrival protocols, a shuttle containing new and returning crewmembers arrived in dramatic fashion. The new helmsman was "welcomed" aboard in Marine fashion, followed by a short interview with Commander Ba'alyo. Captain Seiben and Ambassador Praal arranged a diplomatic dinner. MISSION BRIEFING (TBS ~1 day): The diplomatic dinner party commences aboard the Elasian ship Valarin.

USS CHALLENGER: New Venues LAST WEEK (05/03): Four escort vessels met Challenger at the border, announcing a last minute change of venue for the diplomatic meeting. Ambassador Praan agreed, but the bridge crew spent the trip speculating on reasons for the switch. The escort ships bring Challenger to a barren, but heavily fortified military base on the edge of Elasian space. MISSION BRIEFING (TBS ~0): Challenger has arrived at the new meeting place and will undergo a length arrival protocol before diplomatic talks begin.

Commander Zen Ba'alyo rested his arm behind his head, propped against the firm pillow of his bunk. According to Reed, the ship had entered Federation space and was working its way toward the Obalarin system. Captain Zareh of the Cepheus had chosen his vantage well. As a cartographer himself, Ba'alyo made it his business to be versed in the astronomical features of any neighborhood he ventured into. For practice, he plotted his own course, sketching our a trajectory similar to the one Reed had charted. He was pleased to find his skills hadn't yet atrophied. Thinking of the navigator made his smile, recalling her give and take with the helmsman M'Guire. For all their bickering, they seemed to work well together - neither wanted to make a careless error that would be source for the next round of derision. Still, if the banter rose to interfere with bridge duties, it would be his job to rein it in. But it wasn't astrogation or crew interaction that occupied his thoughts as he put off sleep. The Ambassador's sudden ailment, coincident with the Elasian's abrupt delay in talks and hasty fleet movements toward Troyian space, was troubling. He wasn't inclined toward conspiracy theories, but galactic politics seemed to be drilling it into him. Ambassador Praan was stable, according to Doctor Juno's account, but cross-department teams were still investigating the root cause of his collapse. Poldara and Freeman had confirmed it was not a result of the transport itself, which meant something had happened on the Valerin, flagship of the Regent. As Akoval had noted, that kicked the mystery into his domain, as well. So their mission had gone from simple diplomacy to stealthy intelligence gathering. The captain was making the right move, he agreed. While close ties to Troyius, the Federation might be obligated to intervene. If hostilities erupted, Starfleet needed to know its commitments. Through he had every faith in Starfleet abilities to defend the Federation, it was true that fewer ships operated along the border region - a token of goodwill toward the Klingons. The peace dividend had freed them for what was being called a new era in exploration, rivaling one led by the Constitution-class in the 2260's. But it did reduce the presence along these formerly-contested border worlds. Were the Elasians using the lapse to make a bid for empire? The diplomatic meeting had certainly demonstrated the military gains they'd achieved through trade of their mineral wealth. Zen shifted, trading which arm propped up his head. With their known belligerence, it was easy to ascribe motives to the Elasians, but his conjecture couldn't determine why they would want to disrupt their own talks. Were there other parties interested in keeping the Elasians from improving relations with the Federation? Challenger had exposed a Romulan ship operating just one sector away from the Tellun star system. What were they doing so far in Federation space? Did they have some interest in keeping the border destabilized? On the other hand, the Klingons had strong demand for Elasian dilithium, until the destruction of Praxis had curtained their military outlays. Could they be looking to keep the Federation from picking up what had been a valued trade partner? Zen drew a deep breath, realizing he fallen into thoughts of conspiracy again. Maybe it was as simple as two squabbling species who wasted away their future, too concerned about their past. He rolled to one side, fluffing the firm pillow. He relaxed, settling into sleep. At least they could count on the Organians to prevent an outbreak of war.

"As you see me now, I stand before the President of the United Federation of Planets, the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council, their ambassadors, and those who first journeyed to our world," the pleasant voice commenced, in contrast to its abrupt arrival. The bright point of light had flared suddenly, without fanfare or alert, expanding until it contained the figure of an unassuming, bearded man in its midst. Ra-ghoratreii removed his spectacles, finding no difficulty in seeing the illuminated personage who had interrupted the meeting and now commanded attention beside his desk in the Presidential Office. The Starfleet admiral and the Klingon diplomat in the room had been startled and instinctively moved to defensive postures, but the Vulcan guest had extended a hand to suggest delay, a gesture that seemed to restrain them. "My name is Ayelborne," the figure continued. "I represent the inhabitants of the planet known to you as Organia." He seemed to be looking at those present. "I appeared to your predecessors to end the state of war between your peoples." "I sincerely congratulate you for reaching a state that was previously imposed upon you. Such interference was both distasteful and regrettable to us, but the neutralization of your forces was necessary to prevent hostilities which would have cost millions of innocent lives. Our delay in your violence offered time to consider the path of peace, without such needless deaths." "It is true you have not yet reached that day when you will work together as fast friends, but we believe you can now see beyond matters of conquest and extinction," Ayelborne smiled pleasantly, speaking in the tone of a gentle parent. "However, to be truly meaningful, such a journey cannot be coerced. You no longer need a steadying hand. You must learn to walk, even stumble, down that path together." The serene face squinted, as if with some effort or discomfort. "I speak now to tell you we will not trouble ourselves in your affairs again. Whether you live together is now a matter of your own choice." "I do not think we shall speak again," he concluded. "Farewell." The figure stood peaceably, holding the faint smile on his lips as the light gathered toward him again. He was gone with a slight flash, leaving nothing but the dark Parisian skyline visible beyond where he appeared. Silence hung a few moments in the Presidential Office, as the three others looked from their chairs toward the Efrosian at his desk. The Federation head-of-state replaced his spectacles, speaking slow and deliberately. "What does it mean?" he ventured. "It would seem," the seated Vulcan offered, "that the Treaty of Organia is at an end." The President tightened his lips slightly, reminded of that race's penchant for stating the obvious. "Yes," he agreed diplomatically, "but why now? The accord at Khitomer was signed more than a year ago." He leaned toward the Vulcan, addressing him directly. "Ambassador Spock, you were there when the Organians imposed their treaty thirty years ago. Why would they end it now?" Spock pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. "It may be the Organians perceive we have surmounted the opposition to peace. Collapse of the Klingon coup may have been a pivotal moment. Thusfar, insurgents who have tried to oppose peace by conspiracy, assassination, and rebellion have all failed." He brought his hands together to form a double ta'al triangle with his fingers. "By removing the threat of external intervention, they further test our resolve to avoid war." "Threat of external intervention, that's preposterous!" the Klingon ambassador huffed, getting to his feet. "The Klingon Empire has never been cowed by pacifist energy beings." "Ambassdor Kamarag," Spock countered, "it can hardly be disputed that the Empire chose to compete under Organian terms for control of Sherman's Planet, Archanis, and other border worlds rather than conquer them." "We are Klingons!" Kamarag insisted. "We make war," he looked to the President, "or peace on our own terms." "Gentleman, please," Ra-ghoratreii interceded. "No one doubts the sincerity of our established agreements." He got to his own feet as the Klingon sank back in his own chair. "But it could affect our mutual plans along the border." The President turned toward the Starfleet CINC. "Bill?" The fleet admiral looked uncomfortable. "The Organians have been silent for decades, Mr. President, but there's no denying the stability they enforce - knowing they were there helped keep warfare on the cold side. Oh, we had border skirmishes and ships that shot at each other," he unconsciously gestured toward Kamarag, remembering the Grissom, "but Organia was always... a safety net against open aggression." He leaned back in his overstuffed chair. "With that net gone...," he trailed off. "Mr. President, I think this is a matter best considered with the Chancellor directly." [To be continued]

I've added some Fair Use thumbnails of the characters (see above), where available.

The image of Ayelborne faded, returning the Chancellor's Antechamber to the orange and yellow light of Kronos' setting sun. "This is some kind of trick," Brigadier Kerla insisted. He looked around the massive table, which displayed images of their border installations. "The Organians are only a myth!" The veteran Klingon beside him leered. "Oh, they're real," Kor countered. "Simpering, smiling, meddling sheep, but they're real." He smoothed the gold fabric of his baldric sash. Kerla looked genuinely shocked. "General Chang said they only were a story," he persisted, "conjured to explain why our warriors sat back and let the Federation remain unconquered." Chancellor Azetbur narrowed her eyes at the mention of the one responsible for her father's cowardly murder. She spoke through tightened lips. "It is said they could reach into space and halt fleets," she described, sharing knowledge from her briefings by the High Command. "Weapons would scald to the touch." "Yes," Kor confirmed, contemptuously. There was a sound of quiet chuckling. Klingon eyes turned toward the Federation Ambassador to Qo'noS. "Get too grabby," Curzon Dax explained, seeing their attention, "and get your fingers burned." He smiled, amused with his description. "Then it was not a fear of Federation technology that kept us from seizing their worlds?" Kerla ventured. "It was really these... beings?" He looked toward the table, almost longingly. "If they are gone now, we could still..." "Do what?" Curzon snapped loudly, switching from a smile to a snarl. "Throw away all this peace nonsense and just take what you want?" He threw his own mug of bloodwine to the marbled floor in a marked gesture to emphasize his point. "Admit that Gorkon's initiative," he lifted one hand to the statue behind the chancellor, "was just a fancy plan to say 'nice doggy' until you could find a rock?" Ambassador Dax puffed up to his full height, righteous anger making him look strangely majestic, despite being the least threatening person in the room. "We should have done what Cartwright wanted," he muttered loudly, "sent in the fleet and dictated terms." The room was silent. Kerla actually gaped at the ambassador, his mouth open. The chancellor stared icily. For a moment, Curzon wondered if he had pressed his point too hard. It was essential he did not show it. It was Kor's turn to laugh. "Dax," he scoffed, "you speak like a warrior scorned." The toothy grin that followed was a savage one. "Like a Klingon." He grabbed the Trill roughly by the shoulder. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." Kor turned toward Kerla. "I serve the Empire," he stated, more formally, "but the Empire would not be served by renouncing oaths to those deal honorably with us." Azetbur present a scowl of resolution. "The whims of these energy creatures change nothing," she declared firmly, "We intend to honor our accords." A chamber door opened, admitting an armored member of the Yan-Isleth, the personal guard to the Chancellor. He bowed his head briefly, then reported officiously, "The Federation President requests an audience on the Red Channel." Azetbur nodded and the attendant moved to initiate a projection on the table. With the distraction, Curzon looked to Kor, leaning in quietly. "I thought you always dreamed of war with the Federation," he pressed. "That day may come," Kor admitted, "but a Klingon blade should be seen by the eyes, not buried in the back." He paused wistfully, as the image of the Federation chief-of-state appeared before them. "Still, it would have been glorious." * * * * * "Madam Chancellor," President Ra-ghoratreii began, addressing Azetbur onscreen. Spock folded his hands, observing. In the overstuffed chair beside him, Fleet Admiral Smillie leaned closer. "Captain," the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief whispered, invoking the former rank, "I'm thinking we may want to revisit some of the border worlds that were contested under the treaty." He raised a hand briefly, as if to reassure the Vulcan. "Mostly exploratory, nothing provocative, but it might not hurt to show the flag a little. We've got tense regions, like the Tellun star system, that could grow more unstable if some rogue Klingon thought he could touch off a war." He furrowed his brow. "Do you think the Organians would object to direct contact with their world? "Uncertain," Spock replied, keeping his voice low, "although they confided that the presence of beings like ourselves was painful to them." "With Captain Kirk gone," Smillie offered, pausing briefly out of respect, "we could use someone who's dealt with them." "Admiral," Spock cautioned, "my duties now lie outside Starfleet." The CINC nodded. "I understand," he acknowledged, "but I hope you'll consider the possibility." Spock watched the admiral ease back into his chair, and turned his own attention to the impromptu summit and the assurances being exchanged. Onscreen, he noted the background presence of Kor, the Klingon who had briefly been military governor on Organia. Mentally, he calculated the probability as vanishingly small that Ayelborne should happen to appear while both of them were with their respective leaders. Clearly, he had been chosen to be onhand for this development. Curious, he considered, that he had been there thirty years ago to witness the Organians stop an interstellar war. He had been reborn by the Genesis Device that later threatened that same peace. He had opened the dialogue to Gorkon that had led to the Khitomer Accords. "Fascinating," he mused. How much galactic history was he destined to influence? Unrestrained by its owner, an eyebrow went up.

The following is a joint log with Ensign Quintin M'Guire, taking place at the conclusion and in between sims: Commander Zen Ba'alyo set the small teapot on the table, sliding it toward Ensign M'Guire. Ba'alyo leaned back informally, gripping the steaming mug of Klingon-brewed coffee. It was a beverage he'd been exposed to during his inspection tour of the border, but one that had not yet caught on in human circles. "It's fair to say that shuttle approach wasn't exactly protocol, was it?" the Efrosian first officer offered in a dry understated tone. A bridge fly-by was usually considered grandstanding, even when it didn't take place in the middle of a tense diplomatic meeting. He took a deep draw from the raktajino mug. M'Guire poured himself a cup from the teapot and took a sip. He pulled back immediately, not liking the flavor or the sensation against his broken tooth. "Nay, sir," he managed. "It t'wern't protocol. It won't 'appen again." Ba'alyo nodded. "I'm glad to hear it," he acknowledged. He leaned forward, setting down the mug and slowly rotating a table display toward the human. "Then there's this..." The screen showed a freeze frame of Major Kimiko belting M'Guire squarely in the mouth. "I think it is fair to point out that isn't exactly the protocol greeting either, is it?" M'Guire sat up, looking abashed. "Now that weren't my fault, sir! She obviously had it in for me." He leaned back, gesturing toward the screen. "Bloody woman is a menace, she should be detained!" The Efrosian eyed him quietly. "Mr. M'Guire," he asked deliberately, "are you suggesting I deal harshly with a simple break in protocol?" M'Guire didn't know anything about this man, but he knew a question when it was phrased to cut two ways. If he pressed for punishment against the Marine, he'd be making a case against leniency for himself. The exec had offered him an out, but he'd have to trade for it. After seeing that... fiery-haired preening princess at the navigation console, it might not be wise to collect enemies so quickly, if that could be avoided. It had been startling to see the young woman again, and not particularly pleasant; she was disagreeable and snobbish, though he certainly admired her spirit, and her beauty. Mostly, however, seeing her had simply brought back the aching feeling of a challenge left unanswered. Sitting back in his chair, M'Guire set his cup on its saucer, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Prayhaps you’re right, Commander,” he asserted “Bleedin’ woman probably ain’t worth the trouble anyhow.” Ba'alyo made no signal of agreement, but simply observed, "Peace is a hard thing to achieve, Mr. M'Guire. We're here trying to reach it with the Elasians. Keeping peace on the ship is good practice." He stood, offering his hand in the human gesture of welcome. "I've read your bio." M'Guire waited, taking the firm handshake. "Nova Squadron," Ba'alyo added, his voice low, almost a growl. "Very impressive. I hope we challenge your skills." “Aye, sir. I’m counting on it.” "You'll be needed on the bridge, if you can hold off on a visit to sickbay," Ba'alyo advised, sliding the teapot tray toward himself. "Are you ready to join us?" "That I am," Quintin answered, "that I am."

Romulans. Zen lowered himself into the chair beside his captain, trying to keep the surprise from his expression. Challenger had confirmed the presence of a cloaked ship operating near the Lantaru system, not far from the Epsilon 7 communications station. Their sensors had detected a D7 cruiser as its cloak failed, just inside the anomaly which dominated the sector. The Lantaru anomaly posed its own problem. There was some kind of natural subspace turbulence in there. Warp fields were impossible inside, so speeds were limited to sublight. The D7 had kept going in anyway. Challenger had stayed outside the anomaly, first sending in probes. Those attempts had shown them the dangers of entering at high warp, but emphasized that without FTL scans and comms, there would be significant lags. The universe was different inside there - a pre-Cochrane era. The Klingon-built ship had simply continued its incursion. It was clear the D7 wasn't turning around or hiding; it was going deeper inside. Captain Seiben eased the Excelsior-class starship into the anomaly and ordered pursuit, pushing the impulse engines beyond spec. The chase would be won by who could reach the fastest speed at sublight, heaping up loss in time due to relativistic dilation. But they had caught a break. The D7 had pushed its engines too far. They had ejected one before it exploded, causing a tell-tale flare on sensors. Unable to accelerate, they had lost ground as Challenger closed the gap. "Greetings, Lloann'na vessel," said the image onscreen. "This is Commander Raekal of the Imperial Warbird, Firewing." Despite himself, Ba'alyo felt his hands grip the armrests tighter. There were audible gasps and visible surprise on the bridge. Behind him, Lieutenant Kas made some kind of interjection. Even the captain raised an eyebrow. Having followed a Klingon-made ship, everyone had expected the image to bear a familiar ridgeplate, not upswept eyebrows and pointed ears. Firebird, he realized, had to be one of the ships the Klingons had traded to the Romulan Star Empire during technological exchanges. But why was it here? At tactical, Lieutenant Teros asked whether they should go to Red Alert, but Seiben waved him off. "We don't want to escalate things," he cautioned, still on mute. Onscreen, the Romulan commander continued. "As you might of noticed, we're having some technical difficulties. No matter, we need no assistance from your vessel. We do apologize for our..." he paused before continuing, "intrusion. Our navigational sensors seem to be... disrupted as well." Ba'alyo was struck by the boldness. The last decade had seen few dealings with the Romulans, but this one was acting true to archtype. He found himself quickly visualizing their distance from the Romulan border and the intervening Neutral Zone. He leaned in toward the captain, whispering. "There's no way this could be a navigational error. What're they doing out here?" Other questions spun in his mind. Why had they brought a cloaked ship through Federation space? Why would they come to this subspace tar pit? Captain Seiben let time lapse, staring at the screen. Ba'alyo considered whether the silence was part of the response. In any case, he knew the captain's words would set this confrontation on its next path.

USS CHALLENGER (03/08/09 Summary): On Toward Elasia BACKGROUND: Challenger has concluded its mission at the Obi VI colony, transitioning quarantine and medical duty to other specialized starships. After a brief funeral service for Lieutenant Doug T, the ship left the system for the Epsilon 7 communication station, where they'll be picking up an unnamed ambassador. After a six-day journey, the ship will continue on to the Elasian homeworld, where the government is considering closer ties with the Federation - after two decades of trade partnership with the Klingon Empire. MISSION BRIEFING: The extra length of the trip is to avoid a navigational anomaly in the Lantaru Sector, which the ship will be skirting. The captain has instructed the senior staff to study up on Elasia and its recent history. A senior staff briefing has been called in the aft conference room to facilitate this study.

USS CHALLENGER (03/29/09 Summary): Mistaken Identity LAST WEEK: Challenger entered an anomaly in the Lantaru Sector -- a region of "subspace death" -- in pursuit of a D7 cruiser that was seen going inside. Although the Klingon-made ship had a thirty light-minute lead, Challenger detected an energy flare-up in the direction of the D7 cruiser. Pushing the impulse engines beyond spec, the ship experienced relativistic time dilation as it tried to close the distance to its quarry. Upon approach, it became clear the D7 had ejected one of its own impulse engines, which had overloaded and exploded. To the surprise of the bridge crew, the D7 hailed Challenger and revealed it was manned by Romulans, not by Klingons. The Romulan commander issued a claim of navigational error and system problems, leaving Captain Seiben to consider his response. BACKGROUND: Lantaru Anomaly Located in the Lantaru Sector, the anomaly is described as a subspace rupture where warp speed, FTL scans, and subspace communications are impossible. Although this phenomena and its effect appeared only thirty years ago, it is believed to be natural in origin. Although the region is well charted, several Challenger officers have noted no significant scientific surveys have been conducted. The interior of the anomaly contains the Lantaru system, an unremarkable white dwarf with several rocky, class-D planetoids. BACKGROUND: Romulan-Klingon Exchange The Klingon and Romulan Empires were known to have conducted a technology exchange during the late 2360's. This is evidenced by the Romulan use of Klingon D7-cruisers in 2268, in an attempt to capture the USS Enterprise during a Neutral Zone incursion (TOS: "The Enterprise Incident"). Such D7's were equipped with cloaks and had their undersides painted with birdlike designs. It is also speculated the Klingons obtained cloaking technology and Romulan designs like the B'Rel and K'Vort-class birds of prey. This technological "alliance" has ended by the Challenger time period, possibly continuing as late as 2292 - around the time of Romulan complicity in the assassination of Chancellor Gorkon. MISSION BRIEFING: Challenger is alongside the Romulan D7-cruiser, in communication with its commander, and must decide what to do about the unexpected and unexplained incursion. (Attached photo: A Romulan D7, with painted underside, as seen in the remastered Enterprise Incident episode. Credit: Memory Alpha)

USS CHALLENGER (03/22/09 Summary): Edging into Slow Motion BACKGROUND: Challenger interrupted its scheduled mission (to pick up an ambassador on the Epsilon 7 station) to investigate reports of a cloaked ship near the Lantaru Sector. The reports were met with skepticism, since that sector is known to contain an anomaly which prevents the use of subspace fields across a six-light-year area - warp speed, FTL scans, and subspace communications are not possible within. LAST WEEK: Surprising, the advanced Challenger sensors detected a ripple which stood out against the "subspace darkness" of the Lantaru Sector. A follow-up probe closed on the ripple and confirmed it was a Klingon D7-cruiser, which was now decloaked and heading into the anomaly. The probe was damaged when its warp field collapsed as it crossed the anomaly edge. MISSION BRIEFING: Captain Seiben has ordered the ship to the edge of the anomaly and may order pursuit inside. If so, speeds will be limited to sublight inside the anomaly and the Klingon ship has a fifteen-minute lead. Scans into the anomaly are limited to light speed, providing a significant data lag. The D7-cruiser, while still uncloaked, is starting to fade from sensors.

USS CHALLENGER (03/15/09 Summary): Mission Interrupted LAST WEEK: Challenger was headed to the Epsilon 7 communications station to pick up an unnamed ambassador, then planned to proceed to the Elasian homeworld for diplomatic negotiations. On its way, the ship received a distress call from the deuterium freighter SS Alexa, which claimed it saw a Klingon D7-cruiser entering cloak near its position. Challenger changed course toward the Lantaru Sector to intercept the freighter. BACKGROUND: Epsilon 7 is a communications relay station skirting the edge of the Lantaru Sector, a six-year-wide navigational anomaly. No subspace fields can be generated inside the Sector, so ships don't travel through it. MISSION BRIEFING: Challenger is closing on the freighter's position and is using its specialized scanners to see if it can detect evidence of a cloaked ship in the area.

EXECUTIVE OFFICER'S LOG, USS Challenger Challenger has been joined in orbit by a dedicated hospital ship, the Oberth-class USS John Snow, and the Miranda-class USS Belic. Together, we're working to contain the epidemic now known as a "plasma plague" on the Obi VI colony. Nearly 3500 were infected, with fewer than ten survivors, but the plague seems to have burned itself out in the remote area of the northernmost settlement. Sadly, our own tactical officer was among the latest victims. Dr. Juno, Dr. Harris, and Lt. Savros have been on the surface along with Dr. Nuress and others from the Snow to conduct autopsies, isolate the plague virus, and treat the final patients. Using Dr. Juno's research, our sensors were able to locate the probable source of the plague as extraterrestrial - a cometary impact site in the nearby wilderness. Ensign McGee has confirmed similar protein samples are located out in the system's Oort shell, among the primordal cometary debris. Now that specialized ships have arrived, the captain has suggested we'll shore up the quarantine and transition crisis management to Dr. Nuress. Science and medical are finalizing their assessments. Our remaining teams are working through exit strategies, conferring with local officials. One final concern is what measures need to be taken to sterilize the colony and reduce the chances of a future outbreak. In the muted lights of his quarters, Commander Ba'alyo thumbed the surface of the portable tablet and set it on the small shelf near his bed. Their whole mission to the Obi VI colony had felt like one of measured futility. Unable to find a cure, they'd been unable to save any of the infected populace. The extent of their success was the isolation and containment of the plague. That was something, he knew, to be proud of. But it didn't bring back the dead. Space was full of such dangers. Maybe that's why so many who shared his Efrosian heritage never left their homeworld. He would have to make the arrangements for Lieutenant Doug T. The tactical officer's death had been swift and senseless. Just weeks ago, they'd been saving each other's lives from the Klingon boarding party. According to Savros, the human had requested no lengthy memorial - just a standard burial in space. Given the nature of his death, the torpedo path would be plotted to intersect the system's sun. With a smirk at cosmology and a scant knowledge of human death rituals, Zen realized this was the dust they'd come from that they'd all return to. Thoughts of stellar fire made him think of the heat of sterilization. If no conventional means of rendering the plague inert were found, Challenger might very well send down a cleansing fire from the heavens. Would it be necessary to wipe the town of Giiwhyen from the globe? Would the few survivors be forced to begin again, losing their homes along with the dead? From his reclined position, he swung his feet off the edge of the bunk and sat up. He reached for his burgundy jacket, slipping into it as he stood. It was time to see what would happen next.