I wrote this piece awhile back, wondered what to do with it, forgot about it and now placed it here hoping it is of some use, at least for more eyes than just the select circle of Star Trek friends. I have previously refrained from putting any works of fiction on this website earlier as it is probably a breach of copyright laws by Paramount being a 'public' exhibit. But heck, lots of people are putting-up their works of fiction for all to see so may as well join the crowd. Of course, all rights of the Star Trek universe belong to Paramount and this site in no way tries to breach copyright infringements (Disclaimer below). However, in the (unlikely) event that anyone would want to write anything based on the characters in this piece, I would appreciate prior notification. Now that that is over with....

These events in the Star Trek continuity takes place several years after Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (yes, I wrote it THAT long ago). This piece here is actually a prologue of a much longer story which can probably form a novel by itself (if I ever find the time and motivation to write it). It begins to relate adventures by a 'new' cast of central characters not from any series (like what Peter David is doing with the New Frontier series of novels, which are thumbs up reading in my book - no pun intended). As a prologue, this piece introduces these characters but further background information on each of them and the current setting is available on a separate link, Background Data Files . Happy reading!

Weapon fire laced across the battle-field, casting flashes of unnatural light over the grim faces of the Starfleet commandos and the desperate features of the make-shift pirate battalion. Photon grenades made pot-holes the size of human graves over 'no-man's-land' between the two opposing forces. Phasor fire disintegrated cover of rock and earth. Despite the superior armaments of the Federation personnel, the battle on Tealar III seemed to be at a stalemate from the shear numbers of the outlaws present.

Commander Gates hugged close to the titanium blast shield anchored to the ground as enemy phasor fire streaked overhead, striking any who dared to pear over the rim of the shield. Around him, Starfleet commandos dressed in battle gear returned fire with phasor rifles in the brief instants between enemy shots. Wearing helmets with optical enhancements and armour which provided some protection to weapons damage, the Federation troops resembled walking robots of destruction. Those troops outfitted with portable forcefield projectors risked additional shots, taking out one or two of the pirate forces when lucky before concentrated phasor fire compromised their temporary shielding and forced them to seek permanent cover again. As these few recharged their projectors, the outlaws countered with additional phasor shots, which rapidly ate away valuable cover, and thermal grenades, which, though less lethal than the Federation photon grenades, added to the havoc. And so it had continued for the past few minutes, neither side gaining any real advantage as the outlaws behind the main enemy lines loaded their contraband and made ready to depart their compromised planet.

"Delta unit, report," Gates ordered from the communicator fixed into his helmet. He was the strike commander for this mission to dispense of the pirate-terrorist base on Tealer III, a sort of field general who did the dirty work planetside which starship captains often had little experience in. He did not wear the standard Starfleet-issue battle gear but instead customized black battlearmour which interfaced with this cybernetic body inside. Unlike the norm, Gates with partially artificial as most of his body consisted of mechanical cybernetic replacement and implants which gave him greater strength, speed and endurance but, as many argued, took away his humanity. He was Starfleet's only commissioned cyborg officer.

"Delta unit reporting," the reply came through the helmet receiver. "Phasor cannon 1 and 2 are armed."

"Fire when ready." Gates cut the channel and switched to another. "Phoenix 1 and 2, report."

"Phoenix units on standby," a male Starfleet pilot answered on the other end of the channel. Further back from the frontline, two modified shuttles laid amidst the cover of alien vegetation. Unlike the typical Starfleet shuttle with rounded curves and a perfectly innocent appearances, these two gunships were sleek with larger engine pylons and armed with enhanced phasor banks equivalent to that of smaller scout-class starships. Nearby were three other normal Starfleet shuttles which had delivered the bulk of the strike force and its equipment, such as the components for the phasor cannons. A fourth shuttle slightly further away served as the field medical facility.

"Prepare for strafing run on my mark," Gates ordered.

"Acknowledged."

As the field commander quickly checked with other units, he also scanned the enemy forces with his cybernetic optics. The bulk of sensors on the right side of his helmet interfaced with this semi-computerized brain through what used to be his right eye. Despite the magnetic shield deployed by the pirates, which prevented safe transporter beaming, his systems managed to plot the precise location of all friendly and hostile units around him. Satisfied with reports from his strategically deployed units and finalizing any changes of his battle plan, he transferred additional power to his defensive and offensive systems.

Gates had held back the heavy firepower from the battle, hoping that his commandos could take out the terrorists quickly before they could organize counter-attacks. Starfleet regulations required that all measures had to be taken with minimal casualties to both parties. Heavy assault with gunships and phasor cannons would undoubtedly result increase the death count. However, it was the only logical alternative left to end the battle quickly and such an operation already countermanded many of Starfleet's more civilized, and publicly desirable, options. With cool efficiency, betraying no emotions of anxiety or excitement, he gave the order to strike. "All units converge."

Mentally directing his forcefield to repel forward blasts, Gates leapt from cover whilst bringing his right weapon arm to bear on the enemy. The high-powered phasor attachment behind his right hand whined savagely as a lethal beam sliced through the air to find its mark. Even as the first of the terrorists fell heavily stunned under his assault, the sensor systems in his right eye locked onto the next target, determining exact phasor power required to pierce its defenses and render the victim unconscious. Within the following second, another of the pirate forces fell senseless, but still very alive. The cyborg's leap took him halfway across 'no-man's-land' as his forcefield deflected poorly aimed blasts. About half a dozen terrorists laid stunned at their posts.

Phoenix 1 arched through the air, phasor banks blasting away enemy cover, as Phoenix 2 provided support closely behind. The massive phasor cannons, which resembled a giant barrel mounted on a sturdy tripod device, levitated over the Federation cover shields with the aid of its anti-gravity pod attachments. A gunner seated at on one side of the barrel swivelling the cannon to lock onto primary targets even as phasor fire began raining on the cannon's defensive forcefields. A single shot vaporized ten meters the enemy front lines in an implosion of sparks and ash. Starfleet commandos charged, phasor rifles blazing.

The whine of phasor beams droned the whistle of the strike-force commander's helmet communicator. A short antenna extended from one of his armour appendages as an enhanced communications-link was established through the magnetic shield. "Gates to Triton." A fleeing terrorist soldier went limp from a shot.

"Triton here," a male voice acknowledged, static crackling in the background. "Switching to Captain Nicholls." The channel quickly passed over to another Starfleet officer. "Nicholls here. Report commander."

"Storming enemy defense lines," Gates answered as he directed his troops towards the terrorist stronghold built into the low-lying hills. "All units engaging enemy." Swiftly surveying the battle and assessing the situation, he added, "Estimated time to mission completion, twelve minutes."

"Proceed."

Gates cut the comm-link and ordered a trio of commandos to his side. Together, they made their way into the underground hide-out.

The U.S.S. Triton was an Enterprise-class starship, virtually identical in design to the original U.S.S. Enterprise except for its printed name and hull registry number of NCC-2350. Though indistinguishable from the outside, the Triton was only commissioned less than a year ago, its latest technology surpassing that of the current Enterprise NCC-1701-A commissioned just over two decades ago during the late twenty-third century. However, the NCC-2350 was not primarily built to continue to expand the boundaries of human exploration. In fact, that mission only served as a secondary directive. With the alliance of the Klingon Empire, Starfleet had publicly began a disarmament program on many of its battle-cruisers to channel greater resources into exploration and research. Hence, under strict security, Starfleet's top brass commissioned the development of a starship specifically designed as a peace-keeping agent, to undertake missions where brute force is the only alternative. Equipped with advanced offensive and defensive systems which could match that of an Excelsoir-class starship, the Triton could handle any hostile confrontation faced by the larger starships while maintaining the facade of a typical Enterprise-class exploration vessel.

The bridge of the Triton was bustling with activity as Starfleet personnel went about their respective duties on yellow alert status. Captain Richard Nicholls stood before his command chair between the navigation and helm stations, his hands crossed over behind in typical military fashion. Grim, almost hawk-like features marked him as a veteran of many conflicts. Though only in his mid-forties, the numerous gray which streaked his hair might have betrayed him being a decade older. However, Nicholls was far from turning bald and held his own distinguishing visage. At that moment, he was looking as the main viewscreen which displayed a magnified image of the battleground on the planet below. From their geostationary orbit above, they could see the many flickers and flashes of weapons fire dancing about below with uncanny clarity. Almost like a god watching over the petty conflicts of humans, he thought.

"Captain." Lieutenant Sem Prelaron III indicated to the lower right corner of the viewscreen as her commanding officer glanced at her. Running her fingers over her navigation station console, she made the viewscreen highlight two objects moving slowly away from pirate hide-out. Though human in appearance, except for her natural green coloured hair, Sem was actually an Akaranian, a female race from a highly-technological culture. Her species were generally considered highly intelligent, each Akaranian mastering a major scientific field while also knowledgeable in many other areas. However, much of their culture had neglected the arts, hence, Sem was viewed by many to be as emotionally devoid as a Vulcan. "Unidentified vessels launching. Computer is running match with library files," she reported monotonously.

"Scan for armaments," Nicholls ordered and turned to face the helm station, where a yellow-tinged humanoid alien sat. "Mister Yanuadras, break orbit." He knew that, rightfully, the Triton was to maintain orbit directly above the battleground to provide orbital cover, but then Starfleet Intelligence had mentioned the presence of nothing the ground forces below could not handle. Aside from that, the Triton's sensors should be able to detect any surprises with enough time to react.

"Sir," the alien responded crisply, his slim five-fingered hands dancing over his controls. Yanuadras, also known as Yan in short, was a Kocian, a single-sex alien whose homeworld was literally a thick forest of vegetation with only basic twenty-first century Earth technology until the Klingons conquered them. Since being liberated by the Federation, the Kocians had learned to adapt to a universe of space travel with many of their number joining Starfleet. Though lean and short by human standards, with an average height of five and a bit feet tall, Kocians were generally well-muscled and could crush the wind-pipe of a human with one hand. Like the rest of his race, Yan was completely hairless with a large pair of eyes and a blue crystal adorning his head, a religious token which Kocians believe to channel life-forces into their souls. Yan's exceptional reflexes and keen 'intuition' had earned him chief helmsman of the Triton, hand-picked by the ship's captain.

As the impulse engines hummed to break orbit, Nicholls swung back to his command chair and tapped at the intercom. "Mister Wang."

After a brief moment, a female eastern-accented voice replied, "Here, captain."

"Standby tractor-beams," the captain instructed. "We're going to haul some shuttlecraft."

"Acknowledged."

Turning to the communications station, Nicholls called to the young man stationed there. "Mister Cole."

He swivelled from his station, one arm holding up the communication attachment to his right ear. "Captain?" Lieutenant Geoffrey Cole queried, his free hand brushing back his fringe of honey-brown hair. Only in his mid-twenties, he was young to be chief communications officer of a starship, but then the captain of the Triton did not see the need for much communication in covert operations when Geoff was assigned and, hence, did not request a replacement. On the other hand, many considered him as expert communicator with the ladies.

"Standard code-1 message for unconditional surrender to all enemy vessels," Nicholls ordered.

"Helm standing-by, captain," Yan reported, confirming that the Triton had broken free of Tealar III's gravitation field. "Triton is free to navigate."

"Captain," Sem called, finishing the final sweeps of her sensor scan. "Six vessels total. Three Eon-class cargo shuttles, Alpha group. Two modified Starfleet Type-9A, Beta group. One unknown, Zeta, possibly heavily modified from some standard model. All with navigational deflectors." As she spoke, the six moving vessels were colour marked on the tactical viewscreen. "Minimal light phasors on Alpha and Beta groups. Undetermined for Zeta, probably phasors as well."

"Warp capabilities?"

"Minimal warp engines on Beta group. Undetermined on Zeta."

Nicholls surveyed the tactical layout, noting that the trio of ships from Alpha group were heading in the same direction. The remaining three vessels were sweeping out in separate directions. Probably trying to make a run into warp once they cleared Tealar III's gravitational field, he reasoned. However, Alpha group still troubled him as no freighter, not even penniless pirates, would travel without warp drives as any interplanetary travel would take months to years on impulse engines and could easily be captured. "Red Alert. Raise shields and arm weapons," he commanded, not keen for any possible surprises. "Prelaron, tight sensor scan of the immediate area for any cloaked ships."

"Sir?" Sem queried as she set to her task.

Though Nicholls knew he did not need his decisions explained, he did believe that forming an informal understanding of his techniques with his officers would increase their overall performance. Among his officers, only Yan and chief engineer Mei Wang had worked with him in the past. "I'm reasoning that the Alpha group cargo shuttles could be heading to a starship nearby. Since our sensors can't detect one, it would probably be cloaked."

"We weren't briefed for starship combat," Sem stated.

"An added bonus to Starfleet if we bring in some wanted pirates," Nicholls said.

"Captain," Geoff called, holding out his communications ear-piece. "No reply to any of our messages."

"Inform them that we will take hostile action if they do not comply. Code-2 message ," the captain ordered.

Geoff nodded and set to his task, the communication ear-piece instantly back into place.

Nicholls lowered himself into his command chair. "Switch to main forward viewer." The viewscreen flicked to display the exterior view from the bow of the Triton. Six fleeing spacecraft were just visible. "Prepare low-intensity phasor scatter fire at all vessels." As Sem acknowledged the orders, the captain turned to Geoff. "Mister Cole, any response."

The communications officer turned around, a twisted grin forming over his boyish features. "Unfortunately, nothing close to 'I surrender'. More like 'Go to hell' and 'Die Starfleet scum."

"That's expected," Nicholls remarked, mildly amused. "Mister Prelaron, are we ready to return the courtesy?"

"Phasors locked on targets and tracking," Sem replied.

"Fire."

Bright streaks of energy lanced from the Triton's phasor banks on the saucer section. Too slow to react, the five vessels of Alpha and Beta groups were struck and knocked from their original courses. Banking hard, one narrowly avoided the phasor fire.

"Direct hits on all vessels except Zeta target," Sem reported. She was about to confirm target lock on the lucky shuttle when a warning buzzer flared on her console. "Unidentified vessel decloaking aft," she quickly reported, her voice slightly tinged with alarm.

"On screen."

The viewscreen blinked to display a medium-size starship, rectangular with a narrow bow to board stern. Nicholls recognized the vessel before the computers matched it. "Elasi pirates."

"They are locking weapons!" Sem exclaimed.

"Port evasive!" Nicholls barked.

Phasors flared from the Elasi pirate ship as Yan banked the Triton to port. Deadly phasor energy dissipated over the ship's starboard shields.

"Lock on aft torpedo and fire!" Nicholls commanded as his ship shuddered slightly from the blast.

A small comet of red shot from the Triton's rear photon torpedo launcher, curving the short distance to impact squarely onto the pirate ship's bow. As quickly as it appeared, the enemy vessel began to shimmer and vanish from sight and sensors.

"Elasi ship cloaking," Sem remarked needlessly.

"Scatter phasor fire over last known coordinates," Nicholls instructed.

Energy beams lanced over where the Elasi ship had been, a streak clipping an invisible target. By then, Triton had come about, the few shuttles struck earlier regaining their senses and engaging their engines again.

"All stop," the captain ordered. "Arm a Khitomer torpedo."

Sem complied and set the weapon systems to load the infamous photon torpedo which saved the diplomatic delegation at Khitomer and sealed the Federation / Klingon alliance nearly a decade ago. "Sixty seconds, sir."

Nicholls switched the monitor before his command chair to display the tactical map. All around the Triton, the six pirate shuttlecraft were fleeing. Out of the planet's gravitational field, they could enter warp anytime. However, unlike before, their shields would be minimal or non-existant. "Target propulsion drives of Beta group and fire when ready." Turning to Yan, he ordered, "Lock tractor beam on Zeta."

"Target locked," Yan confirmed.

"Engage."

The tractor beam emitter shot forth a cone of light energy which encompassed the speeding shuttle, bringing it to a sudden stop and overloading its engines in the process. When the energy field was removed, the pirate vessel could only drift helplessly. Meanwhile, phasor bolts from the Triton struck the two Beta group shuttles, damaging their impulse drives to render them immobile.

"Captain!" Sem called, a hint of surprise in her tone. "Alpha group and turning around towards port-side." A quick glance and the tactical displayed confirmed the trio of shuttles speeding towards the Federation starship. "Their firing!"

An amused grunt came from Geoff as the mini-phasor bolts struck Triton's shields, barely doing any significant damage.

"Elasi ship decloaking to starboard," Sem reported.

"Lock on phasors and fire," Nicholls commanded, gripping the safety restrains on the arm-rests of his command chair. "Bring us about."

As the three shuttles sped under the Triton, the Elasi vessel fired. Phasor bolts and photon torpedoes impacted against Triton's starboard shields as the Federation ship came about with its phasor banks counter-attacking. Veering from the crossfire, the Alpha shuttles headed towards the pirate starship.

"Mister Cole, signal the Elasi ship to cease hostilities and surrender immediately," Nicholls ordered.

"Like they'll listen," Geoff mumbled to himself as he set to his task.

"Starboard shields are taking significant damage," Sem reported through the bursts of light across the viewscreen and booming of explosions.

"Engineering," Nicholls called through the intercom. "Boost power to forward and starboard shields."

"Working on it," Wang replied from engineering. "But I can't stop all the shots from getting through forever."

"You can be sure that they'll give before we do," the captain assured.

"I certainly hope so," Geoff murmured, gripping tightly to his seat. Though he had been through a number of starship battles before and was on one of Starfleet's newest battle-cruisers, he could still feel his muscles as tense as they had been when he was a raw ensign. Calling to the captain, he reported, "No response from the enemy vessel."

As the Elasi pirate ship came into full view, so did the three Alpha group shuttles in a corner of the viewscreen. "Alpha shuttles are almost upon the Elasi ship," Yan stated.

"Can we lock them on the tractor beam?" Nicholls queried.

"Too much interference," Yan responded.

"Then we make the Elasi ship inaccessible," the captain stated. "Target phasors at the propulsion drives on shuttles. Fire photon torpedoes at the Elasi vessel."

Sem's fingers raced over her console in response to her orders. A pair of photon torpedoes launched from the Triton, impacting squarely into the bow of the pirate ship. A split second later, phasor fire blew out the impulse engines on the three shuttles.

"Alpha group is immobilized," Sem reported. "Elasi vessel has lost forward shields."

"Their attempting to turn around," Yan added.

As much as he wanted to blow the pirates to cosmic dust, Nicholls remembered enough Starfleet procedure to offer the alternative. "Mister Cole, open a channel."

"Channel open, sir," Geoff complied, establishing an audio-link to the Elasi vessel if they choose to listen.

Nicholls began. "This is Captain Nicholls of the Federation starship Triton. You cannot win this battle. Surrender now by lowering shields, disarming weapons and preparing to be boarded."

However, as he expected, the pirates were hardly cooperative. The Elasi vessel began to fade from view.

"They're cloaking," Yan said.

"Short range sensors, Mister Prelaron."

Sem tapped in numerous commands on her console. "Initiating narrow scan on last coordinates. Trying to lock onto 'ghost' image." Turning to face her captain, she suggested, "We could use the Khitomer torpedo."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Nicholls nodded. "But I'm also certain that these pirates don't have access to the latest cloaking technologies so we should be able to get a lock on them with our sensors. We'll save the torpedo if we can."

"Working on it, sir."

"Mister Cole, transmit message to all disabled shuttles that they are to surrender and prepare to be boarded," Nicholls ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Walking over to an ensign stationed at the tactical station, the captain asked, "What's the situation of the strike force?"

The ensign indicated the Federation units on his display screen. "Our commandos have penetrated the stronghold. It should all be over soon."

"Captain," Sem called, "I think I have a fix on the enemy ship."

Nicholls quickly strode to flank the chief navigator's console, inspecting the readings on it. "On main viewer."

Sem switched the main viewscreen to display an image picked up from one of the ship's port sensors. A slight distortion could be seen in the blackness of space, roughly in the shape of a starship. It was moving towards Tealer III.

"Prelaron," the captain started, "fire wide beam phasor spread across the Elasi ship. When their cloaking field is distorted, run a high-powered tight phasor beam from bow to stern." A questioning look crossed the Akaranians features as she readied the Triton's weapons. Nicholls noted the look, but offered no explanation this time.

After a moment, Sem had all the controls programmed. "Ready, sir."

"Fire."

Phasor fire scattered from the Federation starship's portside towards the invisible target. In the next instant, the Elasi pirate ship was illuminated in the light of energy explosions enveloping its shields. Sem immediately had the Triton's sensors lock onto the configuration of the vessel and initiated the second firing program for the pin-point strike. As the starship came about, a pencil-thin phasor beam from its forward phasor banks struck the enemy ship, slicing its structure from bow to stern. As tiny explosions rippled the Elasi ship's damaged hull, it came clearly back into normal sight.

"Excellent shooting, Prelaron," Nicholls commended.

"Thank you, sir," Sem returned, understanding the reasoning behind the second phasor volley.

"Captain," Yan called, indicating the Elasi ship on the main viewscreen. "They're attempting evasive manoeuvres, trying to escape." Its impulse engines glowing brightly, the pirate ship banked hard from its original course away from Tealer III.

"They're warp engines are powering up," Sem reported.

Hands ready to at the helm controls, Yan asked, "Shall we pursue?"

"Yes." Tapping the intercom, Nicholls signalled to engineering.

"Wang here."

"We've got a big one to snare with the tractor beam this time," the captain explained. "Think you can handle it?"

"Yes. But I wouldn't recommend to keep it up for long. The shear forces would eventually blow out the beam emitters."

"Noted. Prepare to engage."

"Tractor beam on standby," the chief engineer replied and closed the intercom.

On the main viewer, the Elasi ship came closer as the Triton caught up. Yan masterfully countered the pirates' evasive, managing to keep the larger starship in pursuit while gaining distance.

"They're almost out of the planet's gravitational field," Sem stated. "They could enter warp anytime."

"Lock on tractor beam," Nicholls ordered.

"Locked on, sir."

Nicholls was just about to give the order when Geoff called out. "Captain, Commander Gates requests immediate assistance."

Turning to his communications officer, Nicholls asked, "The situation?"

"A Klingon bird-of-prey has decloaked and is attacking base camp," Geoff reported, voice tense. "They haven't got enough firepower to take it out. Phasor Cannon One is already disabled. Phoenix Gunship One damaged."

"Damn," was all Nicholls could manage for a moment. He did not like loosing the Elasi ship, especially after all the trouble to carefully corner it. However, the pirate vessel was not a mission priority and protecting the strike force from hostile starships were, something he had already lapsed in and was starting to reprimand himself for. How caught Starfleet Intelligence be so incompetent, he thought. In that moment of indecision, the Elasi pirate entered warp, shooting away from sight.

Nicholls knew that they could still catch the escaping ship if he wished it. Unfortunately, any further delay meant that more Starfleet personnel on the planet below could be killed. Turning to Yan, he ordered, "Turn us back to Tealer III. Full impulse."

Gates continued to watch the scene of destruction before him. A few moments earlier, a Klingon Bird-of-Prey had just materialized near the edge of the Starfleet base camp and proceeded to take apart the stationary shuttles and equipment stores. Just a few moments prior to that, he had let a group of criminals escape to the vessel via transporter. His mistake was giving them the opportunity to surrender.

From his observation hatchway twenty meters above ground in the rock-face which had hid the terrorist camp, his sensor systems surveyed the increasing carnage for casualties. One of the gunships, Phoenix 1, had already succumbed to the pirate ship's firepower, the other was dodging wildly and returning fire when possible. The modified shuttles were excellent against infantry and other shuttle-class vessels but up against a starship, it was outclassed. A phasor cannon was also a smoking ruin with the other firing madly at the Klingon starship but not doing enough significant damage with each shot to penetrate the vessel's shields. The cannon's own directional shields were already buckling under the firepower of the Bird-of-Prey's port phasor cannon. Below, Starfleet personnel scurried for whatever cover trees and rocks could provide.

"Commander Gates!" a heavy-accent human voice shrieked over the communications channel.

"Gates here," the Starfleet commander acknowledged, his own voice mechanically cool under the circumstances. "Please proceed, Doctor Kanga."

"Gates!" the African Starfleet doctor exclaimed into his communicator amidst dust, smoke and spilled equipment of what used to be his medical tent. "I have just lost half the medical tent and some of my staff with it! There are too many casualties. I need the medical bay in the Triton."

"The Triton is enroute," Gates responded. "Please standby." If the Triton was still immediately holding geo-stationary orbit above, as it should have to provide the ground forces cover, the enemy starship should have been taken out by now. He would have to inform Captain Nicholls of that after the mission.

Closing the channel, Gates called up the positions of each of his troops. "Mitchell, Hanes, Lance, Wong. Proceed to base camp. Defend and assist medical personnel," he ordered the nearest commandos to the camp. Glancing at the second phasor cannon, he assessed the situation and switched channels. "Cannon 2. Set to auto-fire and evacuate." As he systematically began repositioning his troops, the phasor cannon gunner scrambled from his station and dived for cover just as the Bird-of-Prey's blast penetrated the cannon's shields and blew to it pieces.

"Triton to Commander Gates," the communicator beeped.

Gates quickly acknowledged it.

"Clear vicinity of enemy starship," Geoff's voice signalled. "Repeat, clear vicinity of enemy starship."

"Understood." Immediately switching to the main communications channel, he ordered, "All troops, retreat from Klingon vessel. Repeat, retreat from Klingon vessel." Switching to the remaining Starfleet gunship, he added, "Phoenix 2, clear area to bearing OOO."

The pirate ship began turning its cannons on the fleeing personnel, blowing huge craters into the ground, when a streaking red flash of a photon torpedo flashed shot down unto it. The small starship buckled under the impact, its underbelly brushing the tree-tops and sparks of energy scattered from its top shields.

"Direct hit," Sem reported and prepared a second volley. However, she cocked her eyebrows in annoyance and she read the new readings from her instruments. "Enemy vessel has cloaked."

"Connect me with Commander Gates," the captain ordered to Geoff.

After a moment, Geoff responded, "Channel open, sir."

"Commander Gates," Nicholls called. "Is there any sign the enemy Bird-of-Prey?"

Gates' semi-mechanical voice replied over the audio communications channel. "The enemy vessel cloaked after impact. Scanning immediate vicinity now for possible thruster emissions and energy signatures."

Nicholls mind flinched at the thought of how the scanning was proceeding. He knew that the Starfleet commander was referred to as a 'cyborg' by personnel files. Any further details on his cybernetic implants were classified even to him. Since the Starfleet commandos generally did not carry around tricorders, he imagined that Gates had to be conducting a scan through his own neural-linked systems.

"Scanning complete," Gates responded several seconds later. "Bird-of-Prey not detected in current area. Analysis of trace emissions and energy signatures suggest departure off-planet."

"Thank you, commander," the captain said. "Continue with mission directives."

"Acknowledged."

"Mister Prelaron," Nicholls motioned. "Calculate estimated time for a cloaked Klingon Bird-of-Prey to clear gravity of a Class M planet and achieve standard orbit altitude."

Sem nodded acknowledgement and began calculations cross-referencing with the starship library logs. "Approximately 35 seconds standard estimate. However, assuming minor technical damage from our photon torpedo, the Bird-of-Prey could require up to 50 seconds. Considering the time lapse since it cloaked, it could already have reached standard orbit now or within the next 10 seconds."

Nicholls half-grinned, the Akaranian striving to cover all details as usual. Almost like having a Vulcan, he thought. However, Vulcans he knew usually just accepted orders to later ponder the logic behind them, not always successfully. Female Akaranians, on the other hand, had an almost annoying habit of questioning the reasoning behind orders, especially from males. Many reasoned that it was probably due to their in-bred sense of female superiority along with an undying sense of curiosity, the latter attribute making them excellent scientists. Getting back to the business at hand, he inquired, "Is the Khitomer torpedo still armed?"

"Yes, sir," Sem replied. "However, may I note that Starfleet Intelligence reports have indicated that Klingon military command has rectified the problem of gas emissions to all new starships with cloaking technology."

"True," the captain stated, "but it won't be a new model. Probably a fairly old model commissioned around 2270." He wagered that the Klingon vessel would be one of the older Bird-of-Prey models already deemed unfit for duty and somehow ended-up reacquisitioned to the vagabonds. "Program the Khitomer torpedo for a 2000 kilometre radius. Fire when ready."

Sem responded and sent the photon torpedo streaking from its launch tube. As programmed, it flew randomly directed within the set parameters, seeking a neutron gas trail trademark of a Klingon Bird-of-Prey. "40 seconds till torpedo fuel expires." Turning to the captain, he asked, "Would the enemy vessel attempting escape be still within our weapons range?"

"A calculated possibility, but no certainty," Nicholls answered. "They would probably be heading for the quickest way out and thinking themselves, invisible, they would be close."

Sem nodded. A light blinked at her console. "The torpedo appears to have picked up a trail."

"Yan," the captain called, "take us after it." He hoped that it was the only starship hidden by the pirates. Another attacking the ground camp could mean disaster. Yan responded and broke the Triton from geo-stationary orbit.

"Impact!" Sem said a moment later. On the main viewscreen, a fiery explosion uncovered the shape of the enemy vessel, already close to escaping the planet's gravitational field. Its cloaking field shimmered and seemed to struggle to maintain the starship's presence. However, the new Khitomer torpedoes had been equipped with a spread of specially charged particles which worked to render a cloaking field temporarily inoperative. Added to the fact that the small Klingon scoutship had already been damaged, the cloaking field totally failed moments later. Exposed, the pirate ship turned flee into warp speed.

"Intercept course," Nicholls ordered Yan. To Sem, he added, "Target engines with phasors."

"Phasor range in 10 seconds," the Akaranian stated as the Triton lurched forward in pursuit. After a moment, she confirmed, "Target locked."

"Fire."

Phasor bolts arched from the Federation starship's forward banks into the rear engines of the pirate vessel. The initial beams weakened its rear shields as the following beams blew apart thruster outlets and bits of green hull. The Bird-of-Prey was knocked off course, spinning to its portside.

"Direct hit," Sem reported needlessly. "Warp drives disabled and damage to impulse engines."

"Excellent shooting," Nicholls complimented. Turning to Geoff, he ordered, "Hail the vessel. Demand unconditional surrender. They are to disarm weapons, drop shields and prepare for boarding." Starfleet personnel had been killed from his courtesy to the Elasi vessel. He was not taking any chances with this one.

"Sending message," Geoff responded.

Nicholls turned back to the viewscreen. The Bird-of-Prey had stabilized course and was turning to face them. Apparently, it was still capable to flight.

"Captain," Geoff called with an almost amused grin as he continued to listen to the transmissions in his ear-piece. "Pirate vessel replying with rude remarks."

"They're firing!" Yan remarked. The Triton flinched slightly as energy bolts from the pirate ship's cannons sheared its forward shields.

"I don't think they're close to surrendering."

"Prelaron," Nicholls began. "Disable their weapons and then blow their shields to hell."

"Aye, sir," Sem acknowledged and fired the Triton's phasors.

Walking back to his command chair, Nicholls tapped the intercom. "Boarding parties 1 and 2, prepare to transport."

An officer answered the call. "Boarding parties standing by."

Hull pieces exploded from the Klingon-vessel. Only broken stumps remained of what used to be its wing-mounted cannons. In seconds, its weakened shields overloaded and failed.

"Shields down," Sem reported.

"Transporter room," Nicholls called through the intercom. "Energize boarding parties 1 and 2 to ..."

"Captain," Sem interrupted urgently. "Sensors are detecting multiple explosions across the enemy vessel."

"Belay all orders," he quickly ordered to the transporter officers.

"Acknowledged," a voice replied. "Transporters standing by."

"Explosions have increased on the ship," Sem reported. Turning from her instruments to look upon the image of the Bird-of-Prey on the viewscreen, she added, "They're blowing-up."

"All transporter rooms," Nicholls called again. "Lock onto all life-signals on the enemy ship and energize."

A moment later, several responses came through the intercom just as the pirate vessel exploded, its fiery pieces spreading all around space.

"Transporters?" Nicholls queried.

"Transporter chief here, sir," a voice replied. "We have them."

"How many?"

"Counts are coming in," the transporter chief replied. After a moment, he answered, "12 total."

"Well done," the captain complimented. "Have them escorted to the brig. Prepare boarding parties for transport to secure shuttlecraft." After the transporter officer acknowledged the orders, he turned to Sem and asked, "Analysis, Mister Prelaron?"

Sem turned to him. "I will require the use of the science station."

"Sensor sweep for any other vessels first," Nicholls said. Turning to Geoff, he added, "Mister Cole, check status with ground forces."

With the Triton holding stationary position and all the bridge crew with their respective tasks, the adrenalin and tension slowly drained from the captain. It gave him a moment to think and consider the situation. With the heat of the battle away, the next few hours will be mainly mopping-up until several other Starfleet vessels arrived to take over and complete the entire operation. Casualties had to be accounted for and responsibilities turned to the commanding officers. In his case, the dead from the Bird-of-Prey's attack on the ground forces would not be easily determined. Commander Gates was directly accountable for all ground personnel but then he had let the orbital guard slip. On the other hand, he could not have ignored the number of escaping shuttles that Gates' forces were meant to contain. Then there was the Elasi pirate ship. In his opinion, Starfleet Intelligence was to blame for underestimating the opposition. But then, Starfleet Intelligence had never been completely reliable, compared to that of the Romulans.

"Captain," Sem called, interrupting his thoughts. "Sensor scans indicate the presence of no other cloaked starships in immediate vicinity."

"Mister Cole?" Nicholls queried, turning to face the young communications officer.

"Commander Gates reports that ground forces have secured the area," Geoff added. "The magnetic shield has been disabled. Doctor Kanga requests for injured personnel to be transported aboard immediately to sick-bay." He checked with a new message on his console. "Security reports that all prisoners are secured." A puzzled look crossed his features. "Captain, the pirate leader requests to speak with you."

Nicholls' eyebrows twitched to the unusual situation, his curiosity aroused. He twisted back to Sem, who was looking at him expectantly. "Stand down to yellow alert but keep the sensors periodically sweeping for any ships. No more surprises. And get to analyzing that Bird-of-Prey and identifying it if possible."

She acknowledged and the red lights flicked down from the dim red of battle to the normal illumination. The status switched to yellow alert, the Triton's weapons and shields ready to be activated at a moments notice. She signalled to an ensign to take her station and then settled to the science station to begin her analysis.

As Sem was doing so, Nicholls activated the intercom, "Transporter chief. Injured to beam up immediately." When his order was confirmed, called to Geoff. "Inform Doctor Kanga that we are ready to receive his patients." As the young man nodded and set to his task, the captain tapped his intercom and called, "Commander Wang."

Seconds later, Mei's voice replied, "Sir?"

"You have the conn. Finish with engineering and get up here if you can."

"Understood," Mei's voice acknowledged, sounding slightly aggravated. Nicholls knew she hated conn duty but he currently lacked another senior officer. Aside from that fact, she had been appointed acting First Officer since her predecessor had been promoted to captain. A full-time replacement had yet to be found.

Bridge activities continued for a few minutes, each crew member engaged in their own task. Sem worked at her science station, Geoff handled numerous internal and external communications while Yan assisted with the sensor scans, his helm station placed on automation until new orders given. Nicholls began a quick overview of the situation in the ship's starlog.

Eventually Mei arrived, the port turbolift doors sliding open to her entrance. Stark black hair and brown eyes indicated her oriental heritage. A plain Starfleet approved band held back her lengthy hair. She was in her uniform, her engineering overalls inappropriate for command. Her lieutenant commander bar indicated she was the second highest ranking officer on board, and hence, it had landed her the role of acting First Officer. "Captain," she said.

Nicholls completed his log entry and rose from his command chair to face his chief engineer. "Commander Wang," he announced, handing her the data pad. "You have the conn."

"Sir," she acknowledged crisply and took the data pad. "Orders?"

"As with mission specifications," the captain answered. Seeing her slightly annoyed look, he added, "It's all in the data pad." He turned towards the science station. "I'll be checking with medical and then the brig. Let me know if anything unusual comes up."

Mei took the command chair as he reached Sem. "Preliminary analysis ready yet?"

"Nothing confirmed yet," Sem replied. "Analysis is still conjecture."

"So what is the evidence suggesting?"

Sem almost sighed. She did not appreciate providing half-finished results but then, in her experience, humans seldom waited until a through analysis was complete. "Captain," she began, "preliminary analysis of particles within the debris confirm that the Bird-of-Prey suffered internal explosions which led to its destruction." That much had been obvious. "Whether the explosions were self-induced or as a result of our phasors is still undetermined. However, if it was an unintentional side-effect of our phasors, it suggests that we could have accidentally triggered some highly volatile cargo material."

"Cargo such as?" the captain asked.

"Cargo such as explosive weaponry or some form of anti-matter fuel cells," Sem answered.

After a moment of thought, Nicholls said, "Continue with analysis then begin transfer of replacement photon torpedoes into launcher storage."

"Aye, sir," Sem responded and continued with her work.

Nicholls strode to the aft of the bridge and boarded the waiting turbolift. Time to assess the damage and break some heads.

Hope you enjoyed that. More on the crew of the USS Triton has been written which I may put-up pending the response here. So, any comments, criticisms, and so forth are welcome. Please mail to 'ryyc@yahoo.com' . Thanks for reading.

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