Star Traks: The Vexed Generation was created by Anthony Butler.  It's
based on Alan Decker's Star Traks, which in turn is based on Star Trek,
created by Gene Roddenberry.  Paramount and Viacom, their dark 
masters, own everything, and have no idea that I've used their little 
franchise to escape into a world as twisted and wonderful as Star Traks.
Paramount and Viacom will never know how much the time I've
spent writing this series has meant to me, and I just want to thank 
Paramount and Viacom from the bottom of my heart.  You guys are the 
best!  Give me a series, damn it!

Thanks to Brad Dusen for the wonderful opening image.  Thanks to Matt
Richardson for the swell crew portrait.  And apologies to William 
Shakespeare, for obvious reasons.

Copyright 2000.  All rights, such as they are, are reserved.

If you're offended by mildly disturbing language, situations, and the utter 
disregard of some of Star Trek's greatest premises, better hit the "Back" 
button on your browser right now.  If not, welcome aboard!





STAR TRAKS: THE VEXED GENERATION
                           

 "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS"
         By Anthony Butler

 
Part II: The Middle of the End
             




       CHAPTER NINE
     




     The viewscreen didn't revert to stars, it just went
black.  Conway whirled and glared at Puckett.  "Puckett! 
Screen!"
     Puckett scrambled at her controls, and after a few
moments of dead silence on the bridge, the view returned to the
Explorer...which had dropped out of warp and was drifting far
behind the Aerostar, floating end over end.  Three enemy ships
circled it, and three others broke off in pursuit of Aerostar.
     "What the hell is happening over there?" Conway demanded.
     


     "Report!" Baxter called out in the darkness.  Momentarily,
the bridge lit up spooky red and Hartley was slamming at the
engineering controls.  Likewise, Tilleran, Sefelt, and J'hana
fought with their stations.
     J'hana pounded her panel in frustration.  "All weapons
are down!  How am I supposed to rain down mass destruction
without weapons?"
     Hartley pounded her panel.  "Our ship was just hit by some
sort of massive subspace carrier wave.  It's infiltrating every
damn isolinear and biomemetic system on board!"
     "Why?" Richards asked, gripping Tilleran's station as a
blast pounded the now defenseless Explorer.  He would have
loved to get a look at what was happening, but the viewscreen
and all other video displays were down.
     "You've got me," Hartley said, brow furrowed in
incomprehension.  She ran her hands along the panel, apparently
hitting one dead end after another.
     "Can you dump the computer core and bring up the backup?"
Baxter demanded, whirling to face Hartley.
     "I can't even ACCESS the backup, much less the main!"
     Tilleran swung under the science station and ripped open
a panel.  "I'll try to sever the link directly."
     "Richards, assist!" Baxter barked.
     "What do I look like, an engineer?"  Richards blinked. 
"Oh.  Right."  He dove under the tactical station.
     "Mommy, I'm scared..."  Steffie clung close to Peterman
in the counselor's chair.
     "Stay close to Mommy, dear," Peterman said, glaring up at
Baxter.  "Everything's going to be fine.  Your Daddy promised. 
He wouldn't lie, now, would he?"
     Baxter ignored Peterman and crouched by the helm. 
"Plato, I want you to try to establish a manual link with the
maneuvering thrusters.  Can you do that?"
     "I can try."
     "Good boy."  Baxter patted Plato on the shoulder.  "Don't
panic, kiddo.  This is just another bump in the road.  Got it?"
     "The word 'panic' never even entered my mind, Andy."
     Funny, it had entered Baxter's mind several times. 
Baxter turned back to the science station.  "Tilleran?"
     "Manual override is locked out!" Tilleran's voice called
from behind the station.  Sparks flew up from behind the
station.  "Worse, there's some kind of protective field going
up around all the isolinear connections."
     "And it hurts like HELL!" Richards's voice called.
     Baxter turned to Hartley.  "WELL?"
     "Sir," Hartley said, leaning heavily on the engineering
station.  Mirk looked on, looking concerned and at the same
time helpless.  "I think some kind of invasive program has
taken over the computer subroutines.  I can't be sure, but I
think it's sentient."
     "What do you mean, 'sentient'?" Baxter demanded.
     It was then that lights went up full around the bridge
again, and the room was filled with the pleasant twang of
violin strings.
     The normal tweaking sound of the computer coming online
was quickly followed by a familiar voice, singing along with
the violin music, the familiar "Camp Grenada" tune:

     Hello Baxter, 
     Hello Father,
     I'm controlling, 
     your computers!

     Please surrender,
     or we'll kill you!
     You are both in,
     real deep doo-doo!

     Richards's head poked up from behind the science
station.  "LARKIN?"
     "Guess again!" said the pleasant voice over the computer
channel.  "Welcome to the U.S.S. Kitty!"
     "You can't rename our ship!" Steffie shouted defiantly up
at the bridge ceiling.
     "I'll do whatever I want, you little brat!"
     "Who are you calling a brat!" Peterman shouted up at the
bridge ceiling.
     "Computer control systems are failing all over the ship,"
Hartley interrupted from the engineering station.
     Baxter stared around the bridge as panels lit up with
dancing penguins, all chirping and waddling idiotically.  He
expected snow any minute.  "Hartley, can you get an
emergency comm signal out?"
     "I can try!"
     "Get a message out to Conway.  I don't care if we have 
to use smoke signals!  We're evacuating the Explorer!"
     "And just where would you go?" Kitty's voice said
poutily.
     "You don't worry about that!" Baxter said, and ran to
hoist Steffie up on his hip.  "Everybody into the Jefferies'
tubes!"
     Kitty's voice harrumphed.  "Fine.  I'll just divert my
attention to taking over the rest of your ship's systems.  Try
to escape...I DARE you!"
     J'hana knelt behind her station and emerged with a
bat'leth.  "Sir, I respectfully request to stay behind and
die!"
     "Request denied!" Baxter cried, as Plato knelt by the
Jefferies tube hatch at the center of the bridge.  He cranked
open the hatch and Baxter shoved Peterman down toward it,
handing Steffie to her.  "Everybody out!"
     "Daddy!" Steffie's voice cried, as Peterman lugged her
down the long ladder.
     "Your Daddy's on his way," Peterman said, choked by
Steffie's arms gripping her throat as Peterman climbed down the
ladder.           
     Hartley pounded her panel.  "Every outside comm system is
jammed.  Even the emergency isolated systems."
     "Can you still open an internal channel?"
     "For the moment."   
     "Sound the all-call!"
     Hartley punched a control.  "Done!"
     Baxter straightened his tunic.  "This is Captain Baxter
to all hands.  I've really enjoyed giving you these little
updates over the years, but now is the time for me, perhaps, to
issue the final one as captain of this vessel.  I do this with
heavy heart, and at a time like this I can only think of what
Melville said about--"
     "Move it along, Captain!" Hartley cried.
     "Right.  Anyways, it was nice knowing all of you.  Get
off this damn ship any way possible!"
     Hartley shook her head woefully at Baxter.
     "I mean...proceed in an orderly fashion to the nearest
escape pod, shuttle, runabout, Escort, or airlock!"
     Hartley nodded.  "Good job, sir."
     "Captain Baxter out," Baxter added unnecessarily.  Then
something occurred to him.  "Do you think Kitty can get to the
Escort?"
     "Not a chance," Hartley said, and grinned.  "She has an
independent, stand-alone computer core.  As do all the
runabouts and shuttles.  They're in place to prevent someone
from taking over every way out of here, in case something,
well, something like this should ever happen!"
     "Just what I wanted to hear," Baxter said, and shoved
Richards, then Tilleran down through the hatch.  He could
hear people complaining about shoving on down the long tube. 
Next he shoved a hysterical, frenetic Sefelt down the tube.
     Still standing by engineering, looking over Hartley's
shoulder with great concern, Mirk offered his hand to Hartley. 
"Megan, I think we ought to go.  Boarding parties are
probably already on their way!"
     "Just give me a few more minutes," Hartley said, and kept
tapping at the panel.  "I still may be able to re-establish
computer control!"  Mirk looked to Baxter and the captain
shrugged.
     "You'll never forgive me for this," Mirk sighed, and
hoisted Hartley over his shoulder.  The engineer promptly began
to kick and shout.  "Captain, after you!" Mirk cried over the
ensuing sound of weapons pounding Explorer.  Ardek must just be
toying with the ship, or else it would be space dust by now.
     "After you, I insist!"  Baxter gestured Mirk ahead into
the escape hatch.  Now only he and Plato remained on the
bridge.
     Plato surveyed the smoky bridge and all its vacant
stations.  "I can't believe we're just leaving, just like that."
     "Believe it," Baxter said, and sighed.  He rested his
hands on Plato's shoulders.  "Listen, I know you grew up here,
Plato, but it's time to go.  The enemy is closing in from all
sides.  We don't have much time."  Baxter winked back tears and
turned to look out over the smoking bridge.  "I had a lot of
great times here.  I was married on this ship.  But a great man
once said, 'you gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold
'em,'" Baxter choked back a sob.  "'Know when to walk
away...know when to run.'"
     "Huh?"
     "Never mind, just go!"  Baxter pushed Plato down through
the Jefferies hatch and he took one last look.  "Good bye, old
girl.  If the fates are kind, we shall meet again..."  Baxter
wiped the tears from his cheeks an leaned down toward the
Jefferies tube hatch, just as a hand jerked him backwards by
the throat.  Baxter made an "URK!" then was spun around to come
face to demented face with former Romulan Commander Ardek.
     "Surprise!"
     "SCREW THE SENTIMENTS, GET ME THE HELL 
OFF THIS GODFORSAKEN SHIP!" Baxter cried and 
scrambled toward the Jefferies tube.
     "Captain?"  Plato stuck his head out of the hatch.
     "Get moving, fast!"  Baxter shoved him down, but the
half-changeling resisted.  
     "What's going--?"
     A well-muscled Garibid yanked Baxter with one hand and
Plato with the other out of the tube.
     "My, you have quiet transporters," Baxter said, catching
his breath.
     "We have your systems locked down, Captain," Ardek said,
staring up at Baxter and Plato as the massive, Thorlike,
Garibid held them high.  "My people are scouring the ship for
survivors.  We could beam them away but that would mean
lowering our vessels' shields, and we'd hate for that good lad
Conway to take that opportunity to blow one of them up!"
     "My people are getting the hell off this ship," Baxter
said, and worked up some saliva in his mouth.  "And as for you
and your demented plans, let me just show you what I think of
them!"  He swished the spit in his mouth and spat. 
Pathetically, it flew out about an inch, then dribbled down
his chin and onto his uniform front.
     Ardek clicked his tongue.  "My poor, poor Captain. 
You've lost it all.  Your ship, your family, your quadrant,
your ability to spit.  What a pity.  But there is a bright
side!"
     Baxter raised an eyebrow.  "Really?"
     "You'll get to go back to that quadrant of yours."
     "Hmmm."
     "--just in time to see us colonize it."
     Baxter rolled his eyes.  "Didn't see that one coming."
     Plato looked at Baxter, still dangling in the Garibid's
grasp.  "I didn't."
     "Poor naive child!" Ardek said, clapping his hands.  "And
is this the half-changeling I've heard so much about?"
     "Nope," Baxter lied.
     "Yes I am," Plato said defiantly, and stretched out a
long arm to pat Ardek on the head.  "See!"
      Ardek slapped the hand away as Baxter looked scoldingly
at Plato,  who'd just given Ardek a reason to take him back to 
Romulus for experiments and God-knew what else, provided he 
could get back to the Alpha Quadrant at all. 
     "Cute," Ardek said.  "Crolok, take these two to the
readyroom.  Put up a security field.  I'll have Kitty try to
stop the escape vessels."
     Crolok grunted and hefted a struggling Baxter and Plato
back toward the readyroom.
     Ardek skipped gaily over to the command chair and plopped
down. "Well, it's not a throne, but it'll do nicely.  Kitty?"
     "Huggy-kins?" responded the Explorer's new ship's
computer.
     "Be a jewel and eliminate all the Explorer crew before
they escape."
     "I will do my gosh darn best!"


     Captain Conway sidled over to ops and checked the screen. 
"More signatures beaming intermittently onto the Explorer?"
     Tapping wildly at tactical, Puckett nodded.  "Yes sir,
but as soon as their shields go down, they go back up.  Not
enough time even for us to get a target lock."
     "They're boarding her," Conway said, rubbing his chin. 
"Damn."
     "And I'm picking up escape pods launching," Puckett said,
and keyed up the viewscreen.
     Conway looked up, and to his dismay saw hundreds of
escape pods detaching from the Explorer's saucer and ventral
section.  Her shuttlebays peeled open and vessels of multitudinous 
shape and size zinged, one after another, out.
     "They'll pick those pods off one after the other if we
don't give them cover.  Move in to extend our shields around
them!"
     "What shields?" demanded Puckett.
     "Don't you have them back up yet?"
     "Not quite."
     "KAMTEZEN!" Conway called over the comm.
     "Yes, yes, yes, I know.  Shields down, pods vulnerable,
power systems fluctuating, enemy vessels circling.  I'm trying
to get shields back up as quick as I can."
     "Go quicker!"
     "Well, yes sir, now that you put it that way, how can I
resist?  Don't call again unless you have something meaningful
to contribute!"
     "How rude!" Conway groused.  "Puckett, we still have to
cover those escape craft."  He looked down at Ford.  "Move us
in, Commander."
     "What if they blow the crap out of us!" Ford persisted.
     "Then let them.  Damn the quantums, full speed ahead!"
     

     Richards led the way onto the U.S.S. Escort's bridge. 
"Stations, everybody!"
     Scattered personnel from the Explorer bridge poured into
the smaller facility, and Richards counted heads.  "Wait one
second!  Where the hell is the captain?"
     "He's not with you?" Peterman asked, bringing up the
rear. 
     "I thought he was with you!"
     "Daddy!" Steffie cried out, strangling Peterman.
     "Computer, locate Captain Baxter!" Richards called.
     "Captain Baxter is not aboard the Escort," replied the
computer.
     "Maybe he's on one of the other ships," Tilleran
suggested as she took the wall at the rear that served as
science station.
     "Never," J'hana spat, sitting at tactical with folded
arms.
     "He likes commanding the Escort," Hartley said.
     Peterman nodded.  "He'd have come here."
     Richards sighed and plopped into the command chair. 
"Well, we can't very well wait for him."
     "He's my husband!" Peterman protested.
     "And if we stay, we'll be trapped here with him!  He's
resourceful, and besides--" Richards glanced around the
bridge.  "I think he has Plato with him.  He'll be fine!"
     "Easy for you to say.  He's not your husband!"
     Richards raised a finger, as if to offer a response,
then thought better of it.  He looked to the helm station.  
It was vacant.  "Well, that does pose a problem.  Kelly--"
     Peterman put her hands on her hips.  "So not only are you
asking me to abandon my husband, you're also asking me to be
the one to drive us away from him?"
     Richards nodded.  "At maximum warp, preferably.  I
think he'd want it that way."
     J'hana shook her head.  "Nope.  He is a coward.  He would
want us to save him."
     Tilleran nodded.  "She has a point."
     Mirk and Hartley stood by Tilleran at the science wall. 
"I have an idea," Hartley said, and looked to Mirk.  "What 
about your powers?"
     "I've been trying since we got to the Delta Quadrant!"
Mirk said between clenched teeth.  "NADA!"
     Richards spun toward him in the command chair.  "How
can that be?"
     "You've got me, Commander!"
     Hartley nudged Mirk's elbow.  "Umm...would it help if I
sleep with you again?"
     Mirk smiled briefly.  "If that was the case, the
cumulative effect would have me ruling the universe by now!"
     "Good point."
     "Either way, we need to get out of here!" Richards
said, and pointed at the helm station.  "Kelly...please!"
     Peterman tried to set Steffie down but she just wouldn't
sit.
     "Fine, fine, fine!" Peterman huffed and pulled Steffie
along to the helm station and sat down.  "Ahead warp factor
JERK!"
     Richards just couldn't come up with a response for that
one.
     At Peterman's command, the Escort dislodged itself from
the underside of the Explorer saucer and shot off into the
small portion of space that wasn't occupied by Ardek's ships. 
When it did shoot off, it did so in a sporadic and zig-zag
fashion.
     "I just assumed Counselors could pilot!" Richards
called over the whine of the Escort's engines.
     "I did too!" Peterman cried back.


     "What the hell..." Conway said, realizing he'd been
saying that quite a lot lately.  He watched the Escort loop and
meander on the viewscreen like an errant hockey puck, as life
pods drifted aimlessly by and a scattering of runabouts and
shuttles plowed away from the circling vessels from Ardek's
fleet.  Conway shivered.
     "Shields are back up!" Puckett called out and Conway was
glad at least for that.
     "Very good.  Extend our shields around the escape pods
and any of the smaller vessels which might not capable of warp
nine.  By the way...are WE capable of warp nine right now?"
     Puckett shrugged.  "You could call down to Kamtezen."
     "I'd rather not.  I think he's in his smaltz cycle right
now."     
     "You may be right."
     "Let's just assume we CAN do warp nine.  Magnetize those
pods to our hull and put out a message for them to hold on
tight."
     "Aye, sir."
     "Ford," Conway said, and slapped Ford on the back. 
"Adjust our warp field to compensate for the extra mass."
     "What do I look like, a subspace physicist?"
     "Just do it!"
     Ford tapped on his helm panel.  "Um.  There we go.  I
think."
     "Where's the Escort headed?"
     Ford checked.  "Oh-three-five mark four."
     "In other words anywhere but here?"
     "Yes, sir."
     Conway harrumphed.  "Set course to follow.  Instruct the
runabouts to hold tight formation.  I expect Ardek's gang isn't
going to let us go that easily.  And put us up ahead of the
Escort.  No WAY Baxter's taking the lead on this one.  We were
here first, fair and square."
     Ford rolled his eyes.  "Whatever you say, Mister Ego
Trip."


     Deep at the center of the Explorer's saucer section, in
the computer core, Kitty Larkin was jacked in directly to the
ship's computer via a hardwire in her index finger.  Sitting at
the computer console, in colorful tights as usual, Kitty looked
more like someone getting her blood pressure taken at one of
those little stations in drug store, although since few people
in the 24th century knew what a drug store was, the analogy
really didn't work.
     "You let them escape."
     Kitty didn't bother to look over her shoulder at Ardek. 
The ship's internal sensors told her he was on his way, told
her he had walked into the computer core.  She was too busy to
talk to him, though.  At present her systems were maxed out
keeping the Explorer's routine operations going and piloting
the massive vessel to the former site of the Crebius Cluster,
where Ardek hoped to make some nefarious travel plans.
     "Did you hear me?" Ardek demanded.  "You let them 
escape, and I want to know why!"
     "Does it matter?" Kitty replied, her voice booming around
Ardek, in his ears.
     "I thought we'd straightened out those kinks in your
programming, Kitty."  Ardek knelt beside Kitty.  "Really, you
want to please your master don't you?"
     Kitty cocked her head.  "Of course I do.  I want only to
please you."
     "Then WHY did you let those people escape?"
     "It felt...like the right thing to do."
     "You're a computer!  You know nothing of right or wrong. 
You know only of my wishes."
     "As you say.  At any rate it matters little.  Our fleet
will hunt down the crew of the Explorer and the new Aerostar
and make them part of our Circle of Leadership.  But if I
remember correctly, you have your sights set much higher than
that."
     Ardek rubbed his hands together greedily.  "The Alpha
Quadrant."
     A sumptuous giggle echoed in the huge computer core. 
"Exactly.  We will march in and make our Circle of Leadership
big enough to encompass half the galaxy!"
     Ardek nodded, eyes wild.  "Yes, yes, yes!" he cried,
almost orgasmic.  "Then, after we knock out the Federation, on
to wipe out the Borg and Dominion!"
     "Well...one thing at a time."
     Despite her apparent zest to take on the Alpha Quadrant,
something gnawed at Kitty and she couldn't quite identify it. 
It was the same nagging feeling that made her decide to let the
Explorer crew escape, and it was a danger to her Master's
mission and vision.  She had to wipe out those errant data
strings.  She set about writing an invasive program which would
wipe any trace of remorse from her systems.  It was the only
way to assure Master Ardek's goals were accomplished.
     Meanwhile, Ardek was giddily rolling on the grating of
the computer core deck, rubbing his nipples and squealing like
a little girl.
     Kitty registered in her brain that he looked ridiculous,
then unleashed the invasive program on her neural nets.  Within
a few nanoseconds, every trace of remorse was wiped from
Kitty's brain and she felt free to continue on unimpeded.


                          







                    CHAPTER TEN 
     




     Aboard the runabout Passaic, Janice Browning leaned down 
into the pilot console's viewer.  "What do you mean he's not
aboard?"
     "I mean we had to leave him behind," Richards responded
tersely, leaned forward in the center seat of the Escort.  In
front of him, Peterman manned the helm, looking for all the
world like she'd never handled a helm before.  That, in fact,
was untrue.  She'd handled the helm of a Klingon battlecruiser
once and crashed it.  An inauspicious beginning to a short and
unflattering helming career.  Without Plato however, she was
the only non-essential crewmember free to man the post.
     "Yeah," Peterman said.  "They left Andy behind too,
Janice!"
     Browning blinked at the screen, ignoring Peterman.  "You
just LEFT him?"
     "There was no time.  It was either leave then or lose the
whole Escort!"
     "And Andy got left behind too!" added Peterman.
     Browning leaned back in the pilot's chair of the Passaic and
groaned.  "Christopher, how could you let this happen?"
     "Hey, try to remember that I'm minus one daughter now
thanks to Ardek and his damn circle of crap!  So I know just
how you feel!  And remember," Richards waved his hand around
the Escort bridge.   "I got all these people out, didn't I? 
Don't I get any credit for that?"
     "No."
     "No," Peterman chimed in.
     Richards pounded the arms of the command chair. 
"Listen:  Captain Conway's called a meeting of all ship
leaders, which apparently includes you, aboard the Aerostar. 
You can continue lashing me then.  Sound good to you?"
     "FINE!" retorted Browning.
     "FINE!" Richards shouted back.  "Oh.  And I'm glad
you're okay.  Escort out."
     "Mind if I use the comm now?" asked Lt. Commander Clarice
Forrester, leaning over Browning's shoulder.  "My boyfriend's on
board the shuttlecraft Marco Polo.
     "You have a boyfriend?"  Browning blinked.  "I mean, sure,
go ahead!"  An annoyed Forrester sat down beside Browning and 
she leaned her head down on the console, dizzied by the stars that 
streaked toward the runabout.  She was feeling not herself to say 
the least.  She prided herself on being the kindest person on the
ship, and here she was yelling at Christopher and picking a fight
with Clarice Forrester.  But she had good reason to be not
herself.
     For the first time in the five years since she gave birth
to Plato, Browning felt her son was in true jeopardy.  There 
were times she had grown worried about her boy.  Sure, he'd
disappeared on an exploration party, Baxter kept him out too
late or Richards disappeared with him on the holodeck for
some spelunking.  But Plato was maybe parsecs away now and she
had no idea what was happening to him.  The only two facts that
comforted Browning were that Plato was on the Explorer, a place
where he grew up and knew his way around, and he was with
Captain Andy Baxter.  
     Well, Browning amended, at least one of those facts 
comforted her.
     

     "I can do it, Andy.  I'm sure of it."
     Baxter sat on the edge of his desk, chin propped on his
fist.  "Plato, it's too risky.  Besides...what about your hips!"
     Standing by Baxter's couch, over a deck plate he'd yanked
open with a fist-turned-crowbar, Plato sucked in a breath, and
his waist narrowed to about the width of an arm.  More than
enough to squeeze down the auxiliary ODN conduit which had
never been filled with optic cabling.  It was a shoddy job by
Starfleet's hired contractors, and Baxter thanked his lucky
stars for that, and the incompetence of Xenedron Construction
Group.
     He also grimaced at Plato's nauseating display.  "Okay. 
Point taken.  But how long can your human organs be compressed
that way?"
     "They're pretty malleable," Plato said, letting out the
breath.  "Remember, I've been working with Tilleran on seeing
just how far I can take my shape-shifting."
     "It's too risky.  What if you get down there and start
expanding?"
     Plato hopped from foot to foot.  "Let me do it, Andy. 
Please!  I know I can save us!"
     "Where would you go?"
     Plato shrugged.  "Don't you know of a good place?  You've
commanded this ship for seven years."
     Baxter rubbed his bearded chin.  "Ummmm...."
     "Well, where does the conduit lead?"
     "Probably to the computer core."
     "Where I can re-establish computer control!"
     Baxter shook his head.  "A brain equal to Larkin's is
running this ship, Plato.  There's no way you can out-wit her,
even considering your perfect grades in chemistry and pottery."
     Plato stepped over to Baxter.  "Listen, this is our only
chance.  Who knows when Kitty will turn her audio monitors on
us and gas us into oblivion for even trying something like
this?"
     Baxter rubbed his chin again.  "It's a wonder she hasn't
already.  Running this ship must be taking more of a toll on
her systems than I thought."
     "Does that give you any ideas?"
     Baxter nodded.  "I think so.  But it involves you going
ahead down that tube."
     "Then we're settled."
     Baxter swallowed.  "I guess so.  But stay in one piece. 
If anything happens to you, your mother will kill me."
     Plato grinned.  "Not a problem."
     Baxter sighed.  "I've heard that one before."
     

     Captain Conway stood and looked around the conference
table in the Aerostar's conference lounge.  "Am I to take it 
you all represent the very best the Explorer has to offer in
leadership?"
     At the other end of the table, Richards nodded.  "Yeah. 
But you have to consider, we're pretty shallow what with all
the senior staff on  the Escort."
     "Okay," Conway nodded and scanned the familiar faces:
Browning, Padgett from Biology, Susan Madera, Ryan Stuart
from engineering and Unlathi from security.  And four or five
others he'd never met.  "First the good news.  We managed to
get everyone from the Explorer's escape pods aboard.  It's a
tight fit, mind you.  We've had to convert the deck eleven
racquetball courts into a makeshift bed and breakfast."
     "Sounds cozy," muttered Richards.
     "Anyway," said Conway, "you'll all be glad to know I'm
developing a plan.  Who's got the senior astrometrics officer
aboard?"
     Browning rose a reluctant hand.  "That would be me."
     "You're not even a Starfleet officer.  What are you doing
leading one of these ships?"
     "Holly's still feeling woozy from the morphine I gave her
and Forrester, who's your astrometrics person, by the way, is
all googily-eyed over Lieutenant Stuart."
     Stuart grinned.  "What can I say.  I'm a wildcat in
bed."
     Conway's eyes widened.  "With Forrester?"
     "Captain!" Richards said.  "We have more important
things to discuss."
     "Certainly," said Conway.  "But Stuart, remind me to
have a word or two with you after all this is over."
     "Right, sir."
     "Anyway," Conway said, and turned to face the slatted
viewports.  "We have a big job ahead of us.  We need to 
locate whatever passes for a resistance in this corner of the
quadrant, and we have to help them punch through Ardek's 
fleet to get the Explorer back."
     "So we CAN locate the Explorer?" Richards asked. 
"Because it's sure as hell not showing up on the Escort's
sensors."
     "No, Mister Smartypants, we cannot locate the Explorer,"
Conway said.  "But I can tell you one thing, it's not on OUR
side of Ardek's little circle of ships.  So my strategic
instincts tell me she's on the other side."  Conway leaned onto
his knees and scanned the room.  "Listen up.  You all want your
ship back, right?"
     Silence.
     "RIGHT?"
     "DAMN RIGHT!" Browning called out.
     Conway smiled.  "Glad to see I have someone on my side
here."  Despite all that had happened, despite his captured
Science, Tactical, and First Officer, Conway felt invigorated. 
This is what he loved about being a captain.  The strategy, the
planning.  The bossing around!
     Conway whirled toward the observation lounge viewscreen. 
"Now let's take a look at that fleet and see if we can't figure
a way through its defensive posture.  Meanwhile, Janice, you
call Forrester and have her report to my Astrometrics lab and
start scanning the adjoining systems for any signs of
resistance.  It'll probably be Maloxians and Sulani. 
Richards--" Conway glanced at Richards, who looked blankly
back at him.  "You get on the horn to J'hana and find out if
she's up to a little rescue mission."
     "Isn't that what we're all talking about here?"
Richards asked.
     "I'm not talking about getting the Explorer back.  I'm
talking about boarding one of thoses ships and getting MY
people back!"
     "Now THAT I am interested in," Richards said, and
leaned forward.
     "Then get out of here and call the Escort!" Conway
barked.  "Browning, you go with him!"
     "A PLEASE would be nice!" Browning muttered.
     "Wouldn't it?" Conway asked and turned back to the
viewscreen.


     Stars streaked toward the Escort and Peterman sat
awkwardly in the command chair with Steffie squeezed in 
next to her.
     "When's Daddy getting back?  When do we get to go home?" 
Steffie was stabbing at buttons on the chair arm.  Peterman
gently pushed her hand away before she launched a torpedo or
some such thing.
     "Daddy's just...getting some business done.  We'll get
him back soon."  Peterman sighed.  "Listen, honey..."  She
turned Steffie around on her lap so that she faced the
counselor.  "I'm going to be frank with you.  Your Daddy's not
very safe out there right now.  It's up to us to get him back."
     "Can I help?"
     "Actually..."  Peterman thought about that.  "You can. 
You can go help Mister Mirk make a nice dinner for us in the
mess hall."
     J'hana soffed at the tactical station beside Peterman. 
"We are fighting for our very lives, Counselor.  And you're
planning a dinner party?"
     "We've LOST our SHIP!" Peterman said through gritted
teeth.  "We need SOMETHING to raise our spirits." 
     J'hana plunked at her panel.  "A dinner party will not
get your precious husband or our ship back."
     "Maybe not, but it'll make us all happier workers, which
will help us accomplish the mission.  Got it?"
     "She does make some sense," Tilleran said, leaning
against the wall of science consoles behind Peterman.  "The
vibe on this ship has been nothing short of awful since we
jettisoned from the Explorer."
     "Like a dinner party will help solve all our problems,"
spat J'hana.
     "Mirk's making stewed targ colon," Peterman said primly.
     J'hana licked her lips.  "Stewed targ colon, you say?"
     "I'll go help Mirk!" Steffie said, and slid off
Peterman's lap, headed for the rear door.
     "Would you like additional help?" J'hana asked, swiveling
in her chair back toward Steffie.
     "I don't think so," Peterman said quickly.  "YOU are
needed at tactical."
     J'hana huffed, then reached under her console and
withdrew a hand phaser.  She tossed it over her shoulder to
Steffie, who caught it gleefully.  "Then at least take this
sidearm with you.  Who knows when we'll be boarded."
     "J'HANA!" shrieked Peterman, as Steffie ducked out.
     J'hana shrugged.  "Not to worry.  It was set on stun,
Counselor."


     Baxter laid still on the floor of his readyroom, leaned
over with his ear to the ODN tube Plato had shimmied down.  He
tried not to think about the awful cracking and crunching
sounds that ensued when the little tyke shimmied down.  He
prayed everything formed back together when he reached the end
of the tube.  Speaking of...
     Baxter heard a distinct, light tapping on the tube, which
signaled that Plato had made it into the computer core.
     Time to spring into action.
     Baxter stood and hurried to his replicator, the only
system left available to him in the whole of the readyroom.
     "Computer, I'd like a snack."
     "Really?" replied the voice of Kitty.  "Like what?  Long
range communicator?  Tricorder?  Phaser rifle?"
     "Nothing so filling.  I was thinking something more along
the lines of potato chips."
     A pause.  "That I can do.  Do you prefer ruffled or un-
ruffled?"
     Baxter smiled, hoping Kitty's cabin sensors didn't catch
him grinning.  "Doesn't matter, but I do have one request."
     "Anything you wish...as long as it is in the chip
family."
     "Oh, of course."  Baxter leaned toward the replicator. 
"What I want...what I REALLY want, is a chip that is fat free,
tastes good, and won't give me cancer, fertility problems, loose
stool, or brain damage.  Can you do it?"
     Another pause.  "...Working."
     Baxter clenched his fist.  "YES!"
     The computer bleeped a few times.
     "Well?" asked Baxter, suppressing a laugh.
     "...Working."
     Suddenly the lights dimmed.  
     "Hello, computer?" Baxter asked impishly.
     A bland male voice spoke up: "The system is busy.  The
program you have requested is currently not responding.  System
resources are dangerously low.  Shut down one or more programs,
wait for the system to become available, or reboot."
     Baxter angled around to watch the streaking stars out the 
viewport disappear to dots.  YES!
     He knelt down to the ODN tube and screamed down it.  
"NOW PLATO!"
     

     Lights and alarms blared and buzzed around Plato as he
tapped at the console Kitty was seated at.  She seemed spooky,
eyes moving rapidly but not focusing on anything.  A bleeping
wire was connected directly to the back of her neck.  Plato
would have loved to simply sever that wire, but were that to
happen, Explorer would have doubtless shut down altogether. 
Besides which, he hit a forcefield when he tried to touch her. 
She hadn't taken any risks, and probably would have gassed him
as soon as he slid out of the tube, but she was busy handling
Baxter's chip order.
     Plato grinned.  His Godfather was a genius, when he
wasn't being a total moron.
     Plato heard muffled shouts down the corridor leading to
the computer core.  He had to step up his work.  
     On the computer console, he rerouted system after system
to the backup computer.  With Kitty occupied with chips, her
guard was down.  Each connection re-established without a
hitch.  Last but not least...security.
     "Computer, re-route..."
     Just then the door to the core opened.  With catlike
reflexes, Plato vaulted the computer core railing and plummeted
toward the bottom.  A normal human would be hurt by the twenty
meter fall, but Plato's worse fear was that he would bounce a
bit.
     He did bounce a bit, which did end up hurting somewhat. 
After all, his bones were just now reverting back to a semi-
soild state.  
     Plato widened his ears a bit to better pick up the
conversation twenty meters up.  He recognized one shrill voice 
as Ardek's.
     "What do you mean she's disconnected?  How could this
happen?"
     Before anyone could answer, Ardek continued: "Reactivate
her, for Chula's sake!  Get her back up and running."
     "Sir," said another voice.  "I think the ship's computer
is back in control."
     "Perform a security lockout.  No way Baxter is getting in
with his access codes.  How in the hell did he do that?" asked
Ardek.
     "Security lockout established," announced the other voice.
     Plato cringed.  Baxter must have been too late re-
establishing his control codes.  He was probably up there in
the readyroom snacking on chips.  Damn.
     "Kitty!" Ardek's voice demanded.  "Kitty!  Wake up this
instant you naughty little tramp!"
     Plato giggled quietly.  If nothing else, he and Baxter
had succeeded in stalling Ardek.  Now it was up to the cavalry
to come to the rescue.


     "I've tried everything.  I can't find the good candles,"
Captain Conway said to no one in particular.  Actually, he said
it to his Pembrooke Welsh corgi, Bucky, but he didn't like to
think of himself as someone who talked to dogs.
     And yet there he was, opposite Bucky at his dinner table,
in his dimly lit cabin.  Bucky was skiddish in the dining room
chair, but after Conway leashed him up to the back of the chair
he seemed more secure.  He leaned his head forward, and,
steadying himself with his stub-like paws, he ate out of the
large plastic dish labeled "Bucky."  His nose sifted through
the meaty morsels and rich brown gravy.
     Conway picked at his meal of fried chicken and onion
rings and french fries and fried ice cream and pixie sticks,
occasionally looking across the table in the silence at Bucky.
     "You've got a little shmutz on your nose there, Bucks,"
Conway said, and leaned across his table with a napkin to dab
some gravy off.
     More silence and chomping.
     "Yeah, Bucky," Conway said.  "I'm worried about Alexa 
and the others too.  But there's not much we can do now but 
wait while the nerds and techies figure out how to pull their fats
out of the fire.  Meanwhile, we've got to try to carry on as
normal, good-smelling candles or not.  Right?"
     Bucky barked.
     "Damn right."  Conway held the edges of the table. 
"Damn.  Bucky, it's so quiet.  Isn't it?"
     No bark this time.
     "Yeah.  Right.  Why the hell wasn't I invited to the damn
dinner party on the Escort, huh?  I served with that damned
crew four years.  It shows you who your true friends are, huh?"
     Bucky leaned down and licked his crotch.
     "Right, well, you're my true friend."  Bucky cast Conway
a look that said "You are pathetic."  Dogs could do amazing
things with their eyebrows.  "Right then," said Conway.  "Let's
have some music.  Computer...anything by Rolling Stones,
please..."
     "DUM DUM, DUM DA DUM DA DA DUMMM 
DUMMM!
     I can't get no satisfaction...
     I can't get no satisfaction...
     Cause I tried and I tried and I tried and I tried..."
     Conway angrily chewed a chicken breast along with the
music.
     

     "So are we proud of ourselves, hmmm?  We can outsmart a
computer.  Well, how about that.  I guess that makes us pretty
hot stuff, huh?"  Ardek stood on the other side of the
forcefield in Explorer's main brig, hands on hips, looking at
the pair in the brig with pure, watchful hate.
     "Yes," Baxter replied defiantly, sitting next to the
crumpled form of Kitty Larkin on the brig bench.  "My crew IS
hot stuff.  Don't try to mess with us, or you'll get burned BIG
TIME!"
     "I'm tired of your empty threats," Ardek said with a wave
of his hand.
     "Empty?  I think I regained control of my ship pretty
well."
     "Who is in the brig, huh?  Me or you?"
     "That'll change, buddy, I assure you."  Baxter absently
wiped potato chip crumbs from his tunic.  He really should have
tried to take control.  But when Kitty really came through
and produced those delicious fat free chips in the replicator
slot...he had to at least give it a try.
     That was when the hulking Garibid stomped in and did a
tap dance on his face.
     "Well, you do whatever you want.  See if you can get
Kitty up and running, for what good it'll do you," Ardek said,
and waved his hand at Kitty.  "My people picked at her
positronics for an hour, and couldn't get any sign of life. 
Your little potato chip trick blew out a processor or whatnot. 
And what does that mean for me?  I have to teach idiot Garibid
and an adolescent Maloxian how to pilot a ship.  Do you
think that's easy?  Really, I know next to nothing about
Federation ships myself, other than enough to turn this baby
into a casino."
     "Some of those games were fun," Baxter mused.  "If you
can leave them on the system before you give us the ship
back..."
     Ardek leaned toward Baxter.  "You are not getting this
ship back!  If she makes it through the invasion, her hull is
going to be MOUNTED in my THRONE ROOM!" 
     "Surely you jest."
     Ardek smiled.  "It's going to be one big throne room."
     "You have big plans, Ardek.  Too bad you can't back them
up."
     "What makes you say that?"
     "Look where your plans have gotten you so far!"
     "They got me an empire!"
     Baxter furrowed his brow, stymied.  "Well...before that!"
     Ardek whirled, his cape willowing behind him.  "I'm done
with you.  Stew in here all you like.  And pray we don't find
your little runt changeling, because if we do..."
     The brig doors opened and Jahn, Ardek's Maloxian
assistant, strolled in with Plato.
     "I found Plato, Exaltedness.  He was hungry so I got him
a taco down at the mall--"    
     "JAHN!" scolded Ardek.  "We torture our enemies, we do
not feed them!"
     "Have you been to the taco stand down there?" Jahn said. 
He made a broad gesture with his hands.  "They're stuffed out
to here!"
     "They were delicious," agreed Plato.
     "And this guy has quite the dry wit!"
     Ardek grabbed his staff from the nearby table and bonked
Jahn on the head with it.  "You imbecile!  Put Plato in the
brig then get to the bridge.  We have lots to do and not lots
of time, got it?"
     Jahn rubbed his head.  "We were just trying to have some
fun.  You know, sometimes I just want to be a boy..."
     "TOO BAD!  You're a conqueror, just like me, mister, you
got that?"
     "You're not my real Dad," spat Jahn, as he deactivated
the force field in the brig and shoved Plato in.
     Ardek rushed to switch the field back on.  "That's right
I'm not!  You'd have a lick of sense if I was.  Maybe if your
father had a lick of sense I wouldn't have had to have someone
crash a shuttle into him.  Then I wouldn't have had to try to
mold you into an effective leader.  Damn your non-existent
motivational skills!"
     "That was SOOO wrong!" Jahn muttered, and whirled 
toward the brig door.
     "I'm not through with you!" chided Ardek, following.
     "You told me to go to the bridge!"
     "Well I want to berate you more!"
     "Tough!"
     "Don't take that tone with me!"
     Baxter sat, perplexed, on the bench in the brig, watching
the doors close on the retreating Ardek and Jahn.
     "Even Ardek is acting like a parent.  Man, I am getting
old."
     Plato paced the brig.  "You are NOT."
     Baxter buried his head in his hands.  "Plato, I'm not
always going to be around to take care of you.  Soon you're
going to need to strike out on your own.  You do understand
that, don't you?"
     "Wait one sec.  Who's taking care of who here?"
     "I'd like to think I'm a mentor to you..."
     Plato glanced at Baxter.  "Well, you are.  But I think I
do my fair share of helping you too.  Remember how I helped 
you rebuild Steffie's doll house after you sat on it?"
     Baxter nodded.  "Granted."  He stared up at the ceiling. 
"Plato, I turn 38 on my next birthday."  He sighed.  "I'm
getting too old for this sh**."
     "That's ridiculous.  You're barely a third through the
average human life expectancy!  You might not be the most
healthy guy around, but I'm sure you'll live long past 120."
     Baxter blinked.  "Why are we talking about this?"
     Plato shrugged.  "You're the one who brought it up."
     "Forget I did."  Baxter looked down at the inert form of
Kitty.  "Think you can get her back on-line?"
     Plato knelt by Kitty.  "Tough to say.  Who knows what all
they did to her.  Larkin let me play around with her
positronic brain a couple times when she was on the Explorer. 
I think this one's similar."
     "Let's hope so," Baxter said eagerly as Plato peeled back
the top of Kitty's skull to reveal a pulsing network of
circuits underneath.
     "Let's see..." Plato poked around.  "Looks like they
bypassed a huge amount of data.  Maybe I can re-route the
command paths and do a fresh re-boot."
     Baxter beamed.  "Plato, it's amazing how much you
youngsters know about technology.  Man, when I was growing
up...sheesh, our androids had no personality.  Nowadays, with
positronics...it's just mind-blowing."
     "Done," Plato said as Baxter droned on.
     To Baxter's surprise, Kitty sat up ramrod straight, eyes
darting as she accessed data.
     "Kitty, do you read me?" Baxter said, pivoting Kitty's
head to face him.  "Hello in there?"
     Kitty cocked her head, and said, "A line from 'I, Robot,'
Mister Ardek.  A good book indeed.  I highly reccomend it."  
Then she flung herself forward off the bench and waggled her 
arms and legs.  "Do not try to struggle...die with some
dignity...wait, what are you doing...is that a transporter
beam...?"  Kitty trailed off, then shot up again ramrod
straight on the floor.  She looked back at Baxter.  "Captain. 
Did you just address me as a feline?"
     Baxter stared at Kitty.  "Um..."
     "Where am I?"  Kitty stood.  "Why are we in the brig?  Is
this another of Commander Conway's intricate pranks?  And 
what of Ardek?  Did I succeed in killing him on Crysta?  How 
did I get here?"
     Plato looked at Baxter, his face a mask of confusion. 
Baxter's mouth was gaping.
     "I am missing some key memory engrams," Kitty went on to
say.  She looked at Baxter.  "Captain...what has transpired?"
     Baxter's mouth moved but no sound came out.  Finally:
"Um, Larkin?"
     "Yes, Captain?"  Kitty cocked her head quizzically.
     Baxter rested his hands on the android's shoulders. 
"Larkin, we have to have a loooooooooooong talk."
     
                          
     






                    CHAPTER ELEVEN
     




     "Well...everybody dig in."  Commander Richards looked
out over the table in the Escort's mess hall.  It was actually
all of the tiny tables that usually pervaded the mess, slammed
together and covered with a huge table-cloth Yeoman Briggs had
cobbled together out of the replicator.  It was a wonder what
one could do last-minute.
     The sound of quiet and slow slurping and snacking filled
the mess hall.  
     "The targ colon is delicious," J'hana said quietly.
     Steffie belched.
     "Steffie!" Peterman snapped, and tapped her daughter on
the knee.  She turned to look at Richards.  "Christopher, why
don't you fill us in on the plans to get your daughter back
from Ardek's people and retake the Explorer?"
     Richards blinked at Peterman.  "You pretty much just
said it all, Kelly.  We're going to get my daughter and
Conway's ex-wife back from Ardek's people, then go get the
Explorer back."
     "I hope you have a slightly more detailed plan than
that," Browning muttered, picking at her food.
     "J'hana's working on the details," Richards muttered.
     "Come again?"  J'hana slurped colon off her chin with her
tongue.
     "You're working on a plan to get the Explorer and
Conway's away team back, right?"
     "Oh.  Right.  Well, we're right on top of that."  J'hana
continued eating.
     "Care to fill us in?" Peterman asked, turning to J'hana. 
Obviously, Richards would be no help.  He continued glaring 
at Browning.
     J'hana sighed and put down her fork.  "I WAS trying to
eat, but if you insist I can fill you in on the particulars. 
There will be two attack teams.  Captain Conway will lead the
Aerostar-A in the efforts to get the Explorer back, while
Commander Richards will take the Escort and attempt to
retrieve Conway's away team from Ardek's minions."
     "Have we located either the Explorer or Conway's away
team yet?" asked Browning.
     Tilleran sighed heavily.  "No."
     "Fat lot of progress we've made," muttered Richards.
     "This is a true bummer," Peterman said, and pushed at her
food.
     "Well," said Browning.  "There is cake."
     "What kind?" asked J'hana, raising an eyebrow.
     "Fudge."
     "With entrails?"
     Browning smiled politely.  "Sorry."
     "When are we going to find Daddy?"  Steffie hurled her
fork across the mess hall, narrowly missing hitting J'hana in
the forehead.
     The Andorian grinned.  "Stephanie Baxter.  You will make
a competent warrior one day."
     "What's a warrior?" Steffie asked, looking to Peterman.
     "Never you mind," Peterman said, and glared scoldingly at
J'hana.
     Suddenly a comm signal trilled in the mess hall.
     "Bridge to Mess Hall."  It was Lieutenant Hartley.
     "What?" asked Richards.
     "Conway's calling.  Should I put him through or what?"
     "Go ahead and put him through."  Richards rolled his
eyes up toward the ceiling.
     "This is Captain Conway.  Thanks a bunch for inviting me to 
your little dinner."
     "You were more than welcomed to come," lied Peterman.
     "Sure.  Sure I was.  Well, where was my invite?  Why did
I have to find out from my Chief Medical Officer, who found out
from your Chief of Operations?"
     "Did you just call to complain that we didn't invite you
to dinner or do you have a legitimate reason for calling,
Captain?" Richards asked tiredly.
     "Oh, I have a legitimate reason all right.  I've located
the resistance, led by Jum.  On the outer edge of this sector."
     Richards wiped his mouth and tossed down his napkin. 
"We're on our way to the bridge.  I take it we're diverting
course to meet them?"
     "That's right we are.  Meet you there.  Save me some
dessert.  Conway out."
     "We will not save him any dessert," J'hana said
resolutely, and followed Richards and the others hurriedly
out of the mess hall, leaving Browning and Peterman to clean up.  
     Steffie shoved away her plate and folded har arms. 
"Where's Daddy?"
     Browning picked up the plates and shot Peterman a worried
look.  Peterman swiveled to face Steffie.  "Daddy's on a
special secret mission, honey.  He'll be back as soon as he
can."
     "But why can't I talk to him?"
     "Because....because then it wouldn't be a secret mission
anymore."
     Steffie stuck out her bottom lip.  "I don't like secret
missions."
     "Me neither," sighed Peterman.
     Browning shoved some plates into the replicator and
eradicated them.  "Me neither."
     

     "I would not believe it if my own aural sensors had not
confirmed it," Kitty Larkin said, seated beside Baxter and
Plato on the brig bunk.  "My mind has been in a virtual stasis
for the last five years.  In my absence, this body has been
Commander Ardek's...sex slave."
     Baxter folded his arms and nodded.  "Yep.  That pretty
much sums it up.  I don't think you've ever had sex with Ardek,
but I'm sure you put on quite a show for a lot of others."
     "Mister Richards...he simply built a new...me?"
     Baxter nodded. "Yep.  She looks just like you.  Well,
the original you."  He waved a hand at Kitty.  "Before Ardek
got his hands on you and painted you all up like a Dabo girl."
     Larkin looked down at her tight vinyl lime jumpsuit. 
"This is a most disagreeable situation."
     "But hey--there is good news."  Baxter put an arm around
Larkin.  "Larkin number two is Conway's first officer on
the Aerostar-A.  I could always use another Larkin.  If we
ever get control of this ship back."
     "That would be a significant cause for confusion."
     "Ah, we'll work it out.  I'm sure you've got a middle name
we can use or something.  Anyway, first things first.  We
need to get control of this ship back from Ardek.  Do you think
we can get you back into his good graces?  Get you on the
inside and topple his little empire?"
     Kitty nodded.  "We can try."  Kitty looked to her right,
to Plato who looked on with interest.  "And who is this
person?"
     Baxter smiled.  "Janice Browning's half-changeling baby...
uh, teenager."
     "Ah, then my calculations were correct."
     "What?"
     "Nevermind."

     
     "THIS THING VIBRATES!" Ardek cheered, wriggling around 
in Captain Baxter's command chair on the bridge of the Explorer.
     Jahn turned around in his seat at the operations console
up front.  "Exaltedness...we just recieved word from our
listening posts in sector 59694.  They picked up a
communication between the Aerostar-A and an installation on
Beldana."
     Ardek's eyes widened cartoonishly.  "Jahn, my little
illegitimate bundle of joy...could this be...could this BE!?"
     "The rebel base," Jahn said.  "Yes.  I think so.  And
that bastard Jum too."
     "Tell the fleet commander to track that comm signal and
locate the Aerostar, the Escort, the rebels, and whoever else
might happen to be in her way.  Have her eradicate all of
them!"  Ardek pointed his fingers, pistol-like, at the Explorer
ceiling.  "BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!  GONE!"
     Jahn went to work on his panel.  "She'll want to know why
you won't lead the attack, Ardek."
     "Tell her that's none of her business.  Not till I decide
it is.  Meanwhile, move us to the exact coordinates of where
the Crebius Cluster once was and have our scientists begin
making their calculations."
     "Can I remind you our scientists are Garibid?"
     "NO!  Just do it!" Ardek said frantically.
     "Fine.  Whatever.  You're such a rotten step-dad."

     
     Richards rapped his fingers on the arm of the Escort
command chair.  "When are we going to get to this secret planet
of Jum's?"
     "Closing in on it now," said Lt. Commander Tilleran from
the science wall at the rear.  "And, in case you were wondering, 
it's Beldana."
     Richards turned the chair around to face Tilleran. 
"THE Beldana?"
     J'hana smacked her lips at the tactical station beside
Richards.  "A planet full of women, yes SIR!"
     "Don't get any ideas," Richards muttered.  "Just
because the Maloxian-Sulani resistance is based on a planet
of beautiful, headstrong women, means nothing to our current
mission.  Got that?"
     J'hana straightened.  "Of course."
     

     "Megan?"  Mirk poked his head into the dim room where
Lt. Commander Hartley worked on a blinking console.  He looked
around.  "What the hell is this place?"
     "Computer, lights," Hartley said, as she plunked at the
console.
     The lights rose up in the room and Mirk found himself
faced with two microshuttles.
     "This little ship has a shuttlebay?"  Mirk rubbed his
chin.  "Six years and I'd never have guessed."
     "We haven't had much cause to use it, but yes, we have a
shuttlebay."  Hartley pointed with a stylus to the floor.  "The
shuttles drop right out of there."
     "Nifty."
     "I'm sure you didn't come down here to talk to me about
the Escort's layout."  Hartley turned away from the console to
face Mirk.  "So what's up?"
     "We're going to meet with the rebels.  Led by my Dad."
     Hartley nodded.  "I heard."
     "It's been more than seven years since I've seen him," Mirk 
said.  "I'm wondering how he'll react to me."
     "I'm sure he'll be ecstatic.  It's not every day your get
reunited with your son."
     "But MY SHIP unleashed Ardek here.  That's going to
dampen the reunion a bit, don't you think?"
     "Family is family, Mirk," Hartley said.  She stepped
forward to cup Mirk's chin in her hands.  "You have nothing to
worry about."  She leaned forward and kissed him.  "Unless of
course that Danel tries something with you."
     "I'd tell her I'm a happily married man."
     "Happily married to a woman who could kick her ever-
loving--"
     "Richards to all senior staff," crackled the comm
system, "please report to the bridge immediately."
     "I'll finish that thought later," Hartley said, and headed
for the door to the small bay.  "You coming?"
     "I'm not senior staff."
     "You're a senior husband.  Come on."
     Mirk grinned.  "Yes, ma'am."
     

     "You're blocking my viewscreen."  Browning and Peterman
stood resolutely in front of Richards, and he leaned back in
the command chair.  "Okay, so don't move.  But make this quick. 
We're meeting with Jum on the Aerostar in ten minutes."
     "We're transferring to the Aerostar," Peterman said
crisply.
     Browning nodded.  "We have a husband and a son to rescue."
     "You think Conway's going to let either of you on the
away team?" Richards scoffed.  "Really!"
     "You let us worry about that," said Peterman.
     "This isn't up for debate, Christopher," said Browning.
     "Fine," Richards said with a wave of his hand.  "But
does that mean Conway will transfer over here to go on the
mission to save his crewpeople?"
     "That's your problem," Peterman said.  "But frankly, I
don't see him giving up his command.  He's probably over there
gloating right now over the fact that his ship is bigger than
yours."
     "And somehow that's more important than his missing
crew?"
     Browning shrugged.  "Maybe he just trusts you to get the job
done."
     "I like Peterman's explanation better."  Richards
sighed and stood.  "All right.  Let's get over to the Aerostar
and get this overwith.  The sooner we finish chatting the
sooner we can put things right."
     "Amen," said Peterman, just as Hartley and Mirk stepped
onto the bridge.  
     Richards swiveled to face them.  "Commander Hartley,
you're in charge of the Escort until I get back.  We'll be
meeting with Jum."
     "Can I go along?" Mirk asked, as Richards, Peterman,
and Browning crossed over to the turbolift doors.
     "Why would you want to do that?" asked Richards.
     "Jum is Mirk's father, remember?" Hartley prodded.
     Richards nodded.  "Right.  Well, you can't expect me to
remember everything.  Come on, Mirk.  Hartley, the conn is
yours."
     "Joy."  Hartley sidled over to the command chair and
flopped down.  "Y'all have fun."


     "Ready?"
     "Sexy circuits engaged."
     "You have 'sexy circuits'?"
     "This is neither the time nor the place, sir."
     "Right."
     Suddenly the doors to the brig opened up and Ardek
sauntered in, cape flowing behind him.  "All right, this better
be good!"
     "She tried to take advantage us!" Baxter said, stabbing a
finger in Kitty's direction.  "There I was, sleeping like a
baby, when all of a sudden I feel this tongue in my ear."
     Kitty looked sheepish.  "You cannot blame an android for
trying."
     "She was trying to get information out of us, I'll bet,"
Plato said to Baxter.
     Baxter nodded.  "That's insidious, Ardek.  And what's
more, it's expressly forbidden by the Khitomer Accords."
     Ardek grinned at Kitty.  "Far be it from me to break the
rules.  Kitty, I believe I reacted too hastily.  Here I thought
your emotional glitches had totally overtaken your program, but
it seems you have a lick of sense left after all!"
     "'Lick' indeed," Baxter said indignantly.
     "Emotional...glitches?" Kitty asked.
     "Whoops," muttered Baxter.  Kitty looked back at him with
an interrogative expression.  Baxter shrugged at her and looked
around her at Ardek, who paced in front of the security field. 
"I don't know Ardek.  She hasn't shown any emotion so far,
except for lust!"
     "Just the way I like it!" Ardek clapped.  He deactivated
the forcefield to allow Kitty out.  Baxter stood, but Ardek
quickly punched the field back up before Baxter could escape. 
"Naughty, naughty, Captain!  How far do you think you'd get
before my men tracked you down?  You're alone on this ship now
with only that rubbery boy to help you.  Further, you're alone
in this quadrant.  How does that feel?"
     "Lonely, I guess," said Baxter.
     "HAH!" Ardek sang, and whirled to face the door.  "Well,
if it's any consolation, you'll be seeing your home quadrant
soon enough.  Too bad it won't really be on the terms you'd
like.  First stop: Obliterate Waystation.  I don't suppose the
good Captain Beck will be all too happy to see you this time,
huh?"
     "She never is."
     "Well, she'll be extra unhappy this time around.  I'll
make sure of that!"
     Baxter sighed.  "You do that, Ardek."  Kitty followed
Ardek out of the brig, tossing a suspicious glance at Baxter on
the way out.  Baxter felt bad sending Kitty out against Ardek
in the condition her mind was in.  She had reverted back to
being the Larkin of old.  The poor thing had no idea that her
current model hat emotions, nor any of the other revelations
of the last several years.  There hadn't been enough time to
really fill her in.  Who even knew if Larkin Mark I's positronic 
brain would hold up to all the new parameters?  Baxter could only
cross his fingers and hope Larkin I was successful getting the
Explorer back.
     Now that the two were alone, Plato looked at Baxter.  "Do
you think she'll be able to get our ship back, Andy?"
     "No one else in the galaxy could, Plato."
     Well, maybe one other person.


     Larkin Mark II watched with dismay from her electronic
cage at the rear of the Leadership Spa and Funtimes Resort
Flagship Motivation, which was led by none other than the
Maloxian troublemaker Ronan, who now bore the rank of full
Program Coordinator.  
     Larkin fondly remembered how, eight years ago, Ronan
tried to leave her away team aboard an exploding Borg ship and,
before that, tried to kill the senior staff of the Aerostar via
food poisoning.
     She was not altogether happy to find herself captured
aboard Ronan's vessel.  What was worse, she was forced to be
hung, still limbless, inside an electromagnetic cage which
limiteded her every movement and looked very much like a cage 
a Go-Go dancer would be forced to dance in.  An undignified
situation, if ever she'd known of one.
     Ronan, meanwhile, sat in the center throne of the
Motivation.  She'd actually aged rather well over the years,
and Larkin had often wondered what became of her.
     Larkin also wondered what had become of Private
Henricks and Lt. Commander Prescott.  Ronan was not very
forthcoming with answers to either question.  All she did say,
and say over and over, to her crew, which Larkin was in prime
position to overhear, was that they were on their way to
Beldana to obliterate the Maloxian-Sulani rebels and take
out the Aerostar to boot.
     That did not sit well with Larkin at all.
     From what Larkin could gather, her role in all this was
to look on in horror and gasp a lot at the carnage as Ronan and
her fleet dismantled the Maloxians, the Sulani, and, of
course, Larkin's loved ones.
     That did not sit well with Larkin at all.
     She would, however, make every effort to keep a neutral
expression throughout the proceedings.  She could not turn off
her emotions like that layabout Data, but she could divert and
suppress them.  She hoped.
     Whatever the case, they were hurtling toward her friends,
all weapons set to "blow sky high," and there was nothing the
android could do but watch.
     They would arrive in a mere hour at Beldana.
     A mere hour, of course, was comprised of millions of
nanoseconds.
     And thus, Larkin began formulating a plan.

                          







                   CHAPTER TWELVE
     




U.S.S. AEROSTAR

     Captain Conway looked out the slatted viewport in the
observation lounge, overlooking all of the lush, green planet
Beldana.  So many beautiful amazon women...
     Conway blinked to clear his thoughts.  He refocused his
eyes to take in the cluster of ships which surrounded the
hemisphere of the planet the Aerostar and Escort encircled. 
There were four ships there, two Klingon Birds-of-Prey, an
Excelsior-class starship, and a Breen freighter.
     Behind Conway, Richards, Peterman, and Browning, the
Explorer contingent, sat quietly at the conference table.
     The doors to the conference lounge slid open and Conway
turned to face them.  "Ssssssssomebody called for me?"
     "Ah, Benzra," Conway said.  "Take a seat.  I thought your
expertise would be good here."
     "Fine by me.  It wassssssssss overcrowded in
Ssssssssickbay anyway."  The four-meter tall Benzra squeezed
awkwardly into a chair between Peterman and Browning.  She 
looked at each.  "Good to ssssssssee you all again.  How isssss 
life on the Explorer?"
     Peterman smiled weakly.  "It's been better."
     "Sssssssshame."  Benzra turned to Conway. 
"Sssssssssso...I hear we're in the Delta Quadrant again."
     Conway nodded.  "Yes.  Glad you got the memo about that. 
We're meeting with Jum in a few minutes.  I thought you could
sit in on the conference and give us the Flarn point of
view."
     "I'm afraid I don't know much about the Flarn at
thisssssssss time.  I hope they are well.  It is
Gessssssssssssssolent Day, you know."
     "Happy holidays," Conway said gruffly and sat down at the
head of the table.  At that time, Jum stepped through the
conference lounge doors, flanked by Sulani guards.  They all
wore basic khaki duty uniforms, each inscripted with a bunch of
grapes getting struck by lightening.  Charming logo.
     "Captain," Jum said, when his eyes shifted to Benzra. 
"What is THAT doing here?"
     Conway rolled his eyes.  He should have expected this. 
"THAT is Doctor Benzra.  She is my Chief Medical Officer."
     "How did THAT happen?" asked Jum.  "And where is my son?"
     "Mirk's in the bathroom," Conway said, then looked to
Benzra.  "As far as Benzra is concerned, we found her six years
ago on the planet Xavier.  She'd been transported there by the
Critics, recruited by one of their minions, a guy by the name
of Sesil.  We reversed her brainwashing and gave her a crash
course on Federation medicine."
     "And now the Critics' minions control this quadrant," Jum
said tightly.
     "Yes," said Conway.  "We were hoping you could bring us
up to speed on that."
     "Well," Jum said, taking the seat at the opposite end of
the conference table from Conway.  "I suppose I should start
from the beginning..."  He stopped, glaring at Benzra.  "Did
you see that?  She licked her chops!"
     "That is a lie," replied Benzra defiantly.  "I have no
chopssssssss to lick."
     "Well you were licking one of your hideous rows of
teeth."
     Benzra brought herself up to full height sitting in the
chair midway down the table from Jum.  "I will have you know my
teeth are gorgeousssss."
     "Whether we like it or not," Conway said quickly, facing
Jum, "we are going to have to work together in order to bring
this matter to a happy conclusion."
     "What did you have in mind?" Jum said, turning to Conway.
     "We intend to disable Ardek's empire, if we can."
     "Save yourself the trouble."
     "You sound like he's already won."
     "He might as well have..."  Jum diverted his eyes. 
"She's doing it again!  Captain, this is intolerable.  I feel
like she's sizing me up for cooking."
     "I'll have you know I am no humanitarian!" Benzra said
quickly.
     "That means she doesn't eat humanoids," Conway said
quickly.
     "The only human I've ever eaten was already dead anyway,
and he was gristly!"
     "You monster!" Jum said, and lurched over the table.
     "Dad, back off!" Mirk's voice called, and Jum whirled.
     "Mirkle!" Jum cried, and jumped out of the chair to hug
his son.  "I thought I'd never see you again."
     Mirk hugged back.  "Same here.  Listen, I know Benzra is
a Flarn, but we have to get past that if we're to win
this..."  Jum looked blank.  "Oh, Captain Conway already gave
you that speech, huh?"
     "Yes, actually," Conway said.  "Have a seat, Mister Mirk. 
I trust everything came out all right."
     "Indeed it did," Mirk said, taking a seat beside Jum.
     "At any rate, Captain," Jum said, not taking his eyes off
Benzra, "Ardek came over from your side of the Galaxy and took
hold here almost immediately, with the Critics' help."
     "How is that possible?" asked Browning.
     "Gas," replied Jum simply.
     "Pardon?" asked Conway, then he amended, "oh, right, the
noxious brain-washing gas."
     "Correct," said Jum.  "His 'leadership' organization went
from an annoying cult to a formidable adversary within a year. 
Initially, he launched an attack of unified Garibid and Madridi
forces that took over the Sulani homeworld in a matter of a
day.  Then he went down and systematically executed the Sulani
executive council, all because they refused to let him do a
lecture tour on leadership skills at their university
campuses."
     "So he's not only a conqueror," said Peterman, "he's an
academian too, now?"
     "A deadly combination," Richards said, fist clenched.
     "Indeed," nodded Jum.  "With the most powerful peaceful
race in this area of the quadrant knocked out and disorganized,
the rest soon followed."  Jum looked wearily at Mirk.  "His
united, brainwashed forces took our own planet over in a matter
of hours.  Now he has Garibid, Sulani, and Maloxians all
working for him.  Me and three hundred others were able to
escape the Malox system in our transport and fighter craft,
but the rest of the system, and indeed most of this sector, was
overcome by Ardek's people."
     "Terrifying," grumbled Conway.
     "And what of the Flarn?" asked Benzra.
     "The cowards," spat Jum.  "Before Ardek showed up, the
Sulani and Maloxians were in preliminary alliance
negotiations with them.  But when Ardek took out both our
worlds, the Flarn withdrew deeper into their own borders, cut
off their rebuilding efforts, and instead focused on walling
themselves in.  Ardek has seen fit to leave them alone, for
now.   He captured a few of their fleet yards, adding their
frightening technology to his arsenal.  That was the real point
when I realized this war was unwinnable.  Ever since, we've
just been in hiding."
     "How can that be?  The Flarn should be Ardek's most
fearsssssssssome enemy."
     "Evidently," Richards said, "they were never the same
after the Borg conqured them."
     "You're probably right," said Jum.  "But at this point
that hardly matters, does it?"
     "How can you say that?" asked Mirk.  "You don't sound
like my father at all.  You don't sound like the man that
nearly destroyed my ship, single-handedly, just because you
thought I was working for the Critics!"
     "That was before I witnessed the real tool of the Critics
come in and wash over this quadrant like so much powdered
soap."
     "Ardek's a tool, all right," muttered Browning.
     "Well, Ardek's taken our people," Conway said, and looked
at Peterman.  "Some people we really care about.  We're all
determined to get them back."
     "And our best chance of doing that is with your help,"
said Mirk.
     "Please?" added Browning.
     Jum scanned the room.  "No.  It's too risky.  You really
did a nice job upgrading your ship, but..."
     Conway cleared his throat.  "The original Aerostar blew
up just a few hours after we got back to the Alpha Quadrant. 
This is a new Aerostar," Conway said.  "It's a fearsome
battleship that can separate into three ships and fight
simultaneously."
     "I don't care if this ship can separate into a whole
fleet.  It's not enough to topple Ardek."
     "If we hit him in the right place it issssssssss," Benzra
spoke up.  
     "Meaning what?" asked Jum.
     "We have a Flarn aboard," Conway said.  "Benzra knows
the weaknesses of Flarn ships, which make up half Ardek's
fleet.  The other half are mostly altered Starshine ships,
which my crew has faced and defeated in battle before."
     "Numbers aren't going to win this war," Richards said. 
"This war will have to be fought with our brains."
     "And we might have a chance anyway!" Browning piped up, and
Richards glared at her.
     "Out of the question," Jum said, and stood.  "I came
aboard thinking you all might be willing to help us get our
people out of this quadrant.  That's the only answer."
     "Abandon the quadrant?" asked Peterman.  "Isn't that a
bit severe?"
     "We're hideously outnumbered, by a foe who is conditioned
by heinous gas to follow every word their leader says.  What
other chance do we have?"
     "The Directors cannot be happy about this," Mirk
muttered.
     "There are no Directors," spat Jum.  "And if there are,
they are not who we think they are.  They are no more gods than
you or I."
     "Be careful how you phrase that," muttered Conway.  "So
you're not going to help us, is that it?  We have to rescue
this bloody quadrant all by ourselves?"
     "Nowhere in this quadrant is safe from Ardek."
     Conway saw Jum's question coming.  "Well, we're certainly
not going to try to move you all to the Alpha Quadrant.  We
don't even know that we have the capability to punch through
Ardek's fleet, nor are we sure we can resurrect the Crebius
Cluster or find any other way back!"
     "Then how do you expect to defeat Ardek?" demanded Jum.
     "There's a...quantity...here that we haven't mentioned,"
Conway said, trading uneasy glances with Peterman.
     "And that would be?"
     Conway sighed.  "Captain Baxter is in Ardek's grasp now. 
It's possible he and Doctor Browning's son can mount a little
insurrection from the inside..."
     "I hate to be blunt, Captain," said Jum, "but your
Captain Baxter isn't exactly a military genius!"
     "He kicked your butt when you tried to take over the
Aerostar," said Peterman.  "Not to mention he was there to help
bring down the Borg, even though Dean did destroy the ship, in
essence..."    
     "Enough!" Jum said, and stood.  "This ends our discussion.  
You'll have to look elsewhere, Captain."
     Benzra raised a claw to speak.  "May I suggest the former
Flarn Empire?"
     "Not now, Benzra," muttered Conway.
     Mirk lept up to follow Jum to the door.  "Dad, I don't
understand how you can write this off so easily...my friends'
lives are at stake...our whole quadrant is at stake!  Are you
willing to give up Maloxian freedom so easily, after you
fought so hard to get it back from the Flarn?"
     "Why don't you take a shot at leading our people for a
while, Mirk?" demanded Jum.  "See how you like it then!"
     Mirk gritted his teeth.  "The Directors will not stand
for this!"
     "Yeah, right.  You're such a 'conduit' for them, use your
powers now.  Rain destruction down on Ardek's fleet...strike
them down..."
     "If you continue this," seethed Mirk, "the Directors will
strike YOU down."  Mirk neglected to mention that, at the
moment, he had no powers to speak of.
     "Hah.  Directors indeed.  I'd like to see them tr--"
     It was then that the conference room shook, as if hit by
an earthquake, and the lights within flickered.  Something
bright and blue flashed by the windows, and Conway whirled in
his chair.
     "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"
     "The Directors?" pondered Browning, and Jum dropped to his
knees.
     "Whoops!" Jum quickly said, then launched into a series
of Maloxian prayers.
     Another flash and an explosion inside the bulkhead by the
conference table.  Browning, Richards, and Peterman dove to the
floor.
     "This isn't the Directors' style!" cried Richards, as
alert klaxons sounded.
     The comm system chirped.  "Ford to Observation lounge:
Captain to the bridge!"
     The group in the lounge filed out, Conway leading the
way, Benzra, with her considerable bulk, bringing up the rear.


     Hartley had never spun to face the viewscreen so fast. 
She was dizzy as she watched the cris-crossing fleet of Flarn
and Starshine warships circle them like giant gnats, others
breaking off to rain anti-proton blasts down on Beldana itself.
     "All weapons at the ready," J'hana said quickly.
     "Eight ships, Flarn and Starshine-type.  Four of each,"
Tilleran quickly called out.
     Madera, reluctantly, had taken helm.  "They're focusing
the brunt of their attack on the Aerostar, and some are heading
right for the planet," she said.
     "Cover the Aerostar," Hartley said.  "Choose a tactical
pattern you like and go with it, J'hana.  Susan...keep us
tight and quick."   
     Madera tapped fast at the helm, and J'hana plunked
joyfully at weapons.
     "We're taking a surprisingly small amount of fire," said
Tilleran.
     "We're too small," J'hana said.  "Those vessels are
designed to attack much larger targets."  She sent off another
volley of quantums, destroying a Starshine vessel.  "That is our
advantage, and may keep us from death." 
     "The Aerostar may not be so lucky," said Hartley.
     "Why don't they just go into multi-vector mode?" asked
Tilleran.
     "I heard Conway HATES that mode," said Hartley.
     A blast suddenly slammed into the Escort, causing it to
pitch wildly, far faster than the inertial dampers could
compensate for.
     Hartley was flung out of the command chair, into a
bulkhead.  She climbed to her feet.  "I thought we were too
small!"
     "They sent a ship specifically after us," J'hana said. 
"Apparently, that last volley of quantums was enough to get
us noticed!"
     "Lucky us.  What type of ship?" asked Hartley.
     "Flarn," muttered Tilleran.
      "It would figure," muttered Hartley.  "J'hana, open up a
channel to the Aerostar, on Tilleran's screen."
     Hartley pivoted to look at Tilleran's video screen as
Conway appeared on it, flanked by scrambling bridge staff,
Benzra, and Jum.
     "They came out of warp right on top of us!" Conway called
over the comm channel.  "My people barely had time to get the
shields up!  As it was, they got several good potshots on us. 
We're not in very good shape here."
     Another blast slammed into Escort.  "Neither are we,"
mumbled Hartley.  "Recommend we get the hell out of here,
Conway!"
     "What about my people on the planet?  Our ships can't get
all of them beamed up while those blasted leader-ships attack,"
Jum called out.  "You must assist us, Conway!"
     Conway turned to Jum and said, "Out of the question, Jum. 
'I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere.'"
     Jum had obviously not offered assistance to Conway, and
unsurprisingly to Hartley, Conway was enjoying this moment. 
     "You probably led them here by mistake, you fool!" Jum
cried.
     "No one calls me a fool on my bridge!" Conway shot back,
and looked to Hartley.  "Get out of here, Hartley...that's an
order!"
     "You don't have to tell me twice," Hartley said, and
looked to Madera.  "Susan, plot a course out of here,
maximum warp."  She looked at the Aerostar bridge on Tilleran's
screen just before the feed cut off.  Mirk was in the
background looking useless, next to Browning and Peterman. 
Richards was no doubt helping with the damage control
efforts.  Hartley felt a pang in her gut for Mirk.  They'd been
in worse situations...well, not really.  This was pretty bad. 
But she resolved she would not rest until she saw him again--
damn Ardek and his people.
     "Aerostar is underway, as are Jum's resistance ships,"
Tilleran reported.  "On a course for Flarn space," she added
whimsically.
     "Irony of ironies," said Hartley.  "Madera, adjust course
to match and enga--"
     A blast pounded Escort, sending it into a backslide like
a frisbee.
     Hartley climbed into the command chair.  "Full power to
shields and thrusters.  Right us, Susan!"
     "That last shot took out our warp engines!" J'hana called
back.     
     "Put up the SR shielding," Hartley said.  "Give us a shot
of finding cover behind a moon!"
     Tilleran looked up from her station.  "Looks like Ardek's
lead vessel is bearing down on us..."   
     "SR shields are up!" called J'hana.
     

     Larkin Mark II wasn't paying attention to the carnage
on the viewscreen as Ronan and her fleet dismantled Beldana's
defenses, and those of the Escort.  An evacuation was underway,
and it seemed Ronan was content to send a couple of her ships
off to chase those escapees, and the Aerostar.  She seemed
content to hound the Escort, for some reason.
     That was the extent of what Larkin II knew.  The rest
of her time and mental resources were spent on her escape plan,
which was, simply, to create a large enough electromagnetic
burst to overload the systems of the cage that held her
motionless.  She would then have to hop off the hook they had
unceremoniously hung her on, bust out of the cage (with no
limbs mind you) and somehow disable the bridge crew (again,
limbless).  It was a daunting task, but one that Larkin had
planned out extremely well in the millions of nanoseconds she
was allotted, with time left over for a quick, internal game of
"Pong."  It still held such mystery for Larkin.
     Dismissing that notion, and realizing she had to act
soon to prevent the destruction of the Escort, the android
primed her electromagnetic discharge device, which happened to
be located inside her midsection.  By design, that allowed her
for the perfect outlet from which to launch her assault on the
cage that held her in.
     Concentrating every spare bit of energy in her body,
Larkin shot a pure stream of electromagnetic energy out of
her belly button, which surged through the grated door to her
cage and, momentarily, overloaded its circuits.  Her
electromagnetic bonds temporarily removed, Larkin was free to
shrug her shoulders several times, thereby shirking herself off
the hook.  Instantly after that, she leaned her head up and
grabbed the hook with her teeth, then swung herself, using
considerable neck strength, right at the door to the cage.  
     She crashed out onto the bridge, causing the Garibid
tactical officer in front of her to yelp in shock.  She used
his moment of shock to her advantage, gripping his ankle in her
mouth and dragging him down, sinking her teeth in extra deep.
     Then, she doubled her torso over to reach around to the
hand phaser at his belt and grab it in her mouth, then stood on
her thigh sockets and keyed the phaser trigger with her tongue,
blasting an oncoming Maloxian.
     "Stop her!" Ronan called out, as Larkin whirled with a twist
of her thigh socket and blasted another Maloxian, who was
standing up from the helm console.  This Maloxian got
knocked back into the helm, sending the Motivation spiraling
crazily, dizzyingly.
     Dizzying for everyone, that was, except for Larkin.
     Her next task would be somewhat harder, but the chaos
caused by the Maloxian falling onto the helm would work to
her advantage.  
     Larkin realized she would have to walk to make a good
escape.  With no arms or legs, this presented a significant
challenge.  But she realized that the combined robotic
"muscles" in her neck, chest, arm and leg sockets would be
enough to propel her on the ground if she lay flat.  She fell
flat down and did just that, scrambling across the Motivation's
deck like an inch-worm, using her chin to steer.
     "I don't know what she's doing, but stop her!" cried
Ronan.
     Larkin had already tried to use her subspace
transceiver to take control of the Motivation's computers, but
those computers had already responded rather rudely and would
not allow her in.
     So she had to do it the hard way.  Bowling over two
oncoming crewmembers by knocking their feet out from under
them, Larkin caterpillared to the front of the bridge, where a
primary computer control was located.
     She used her chin to drag herself up to "standing," and
tapped in a sequence on the panel with her tongue.  Ronan's
ship shut down, just as Ronan herself blasted Larkin in the
back, sending her reeling back to the deck.  
     Larkin felt her systems short-circuit.
     >>...primary nanoprocessor shutting down...
     >>...estimated time to repair: one hour...
     >>...shutting down...
     Her last thought was that she hoped her plan worked.


     Hartley cocked her head at the rapidly falling Motivation. 
It spiraled right toward Beldana, apparently out of control. 
Then all her engines seemed to go dead, and the massive,
birdlike vessel just coasted down into the atmosphere, flopping
end over end.
     A couple other leader-ships broke to try and grab her in
a tractor beam, but she was already too far into the
atmosphere.
     "Nice diversion," Hartley said handily.  "Now, Susan,
find us a shady spot so we can make some repairs.  And somebody
see if they can find out who was on that ship."
     "Like we would just happen to know someone on its crew?"
joked J'hana.



     The dawn sky on Beldana was crisp and dark, riddled with
wafts of smoke.  
     The island of Mandraka was quiet and empty of humanoid
life--only some chittering monkey-like creatures could be heard
on the island proper.  In the distance, however, alert sirens
and explosions could be heard as Ardek's Leadership Teams moved
in to "develop" Beldana's populace, which included hundreds of
Jum's followers.
     But the island was bereft of humanoid life.
     Until one crawled up onto the shoreline.
     Followed by another one.
     Alexa Lanham lay breathless, face down, on the beach,
spitting sand and seaweed.  At least she hoped it was seaweed. 
It was stringy, and tasted like brine, that much she knew.
     She turned her head to look exhaustedly at Lt. Brian
Gellar.
     "Mister...ugh...Gellar...?"
     Gellar rolled over.  "Fifteen more minutes, Mommy."
     Lanham climbed over Gellar.  "Lieutenant...wake up.  I
need you right now."
     "Really?"  Gellar's eyes shot wide open.  "It's a bit
inopportune but I'm not one to turn down--" Gellar leaned up on
his elbows.
     Lanham pushed him back down.  "Don't be ridiculous.  What
I mean is I need you to help me get off this blasted planet."
     "Refresh my memory."  Gellar leaned up again.  "What
exactly happened?"
     "We were on Ardek's ship.  Stuff started exploding.  Our
holding cells shorted...the escape hatches were blown..." 
Lanham blinked.  "You don't remember any of this?"
     "Uh-uh."
     "Of course you don't.  I dragged you across half a klick
of ocean."
     Gellar squinted in the fast dawning sun.  "What's that in
nautical miles?"
     "Anyway, I scissor-kicked my way to the surface and
dragged your worthless Starfleet security ass to shore."
     "Thanks for that, by the way."
     Lanham stood and dusted off her pants.  Her labcoat was
shreds.  Damn.  She helped Gellar up.  "So far you're really
doing a heck of a job keeping me safe."
     "I try."  Gellar looked around.  "So what became of the
ship we were on?"
     BLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAM!
     A mushroom of water the size of an asteroid filled the
horizon, shooting up toward the heavens.  A tidal wave rushed
toward the shore and splashed over Gellar and Lanham, sending
them skidding into a thicket of bushes.
     After the wave receded, Gellar and Lanham lay on their
backs in the bushes, covered in thistles.
     "Ouch," said Gellar.
     "I guess that answers your question about the ship."
     "Pretty much."
     "Ouch."
     "Okay, I get it.  You're in pain.  You don't have to keep
whining about it."
     Gellar leaned up.  "That wasn't me."
     Alexa leaned up and scanned the flat, ochre beach.  There
was a man, a human, in snazzy lime and yellow prisoner's garb,
lying on his face on the beach.
     Alexa rushed to the man's side and flipped him over.  "Are
you all right?"
     "Surf's up," the man, crew-cut and roughly cro-magnon-
looking, muttered.
     Alexa squeezed the man's left arm and chest.  "Lie still. 
You have a broken arm and three cracked ribs."
     Gellar stumbled over and looked down at the man.  "I'll
be damned."
     Alexa chuckled.  "You know this guy or something?"
     "Yep."
     "I shouldn't be surprised."
     "Private Christopher Conrad Henricks, Federation Marine
Corps, reporting for duty," the man, Henricks, coughed, as
Gellar and Lanham helped him up.
     "Long time no see," Gellar said, supporting the private
underneath his broken arm.
     "Yes, it has been a while."  Henricks blinked.  "Who
are you again?"
     "Lieutenant Gellar, formerly of the Aerostar.  Presently,
of the Aerostar."
     "Ahhh.  Ugh."  Henricks coughed up seawater, seaweed,
and a shell.
     "Can you walk?" Alexa asked.
     "I can still outrun either of you weaklings," grumbled
Henricks.  "I would have made it out without getting banged
up if it hadn't been for the ship exploding and causing that
tidal wave."
     "Too bad about that," agreed Lanham, and she and Gellar
helped Henricks up and into the dense Beldanan jungle.  "I
don't suppose either of you have a tricorder?"
     Henricks and Gellar exchanged glances.
     "Nope," said Gellar.
     "A map?"
     Henricks shook his head.  "Nope.  But I was stationed
on this planet before I was captured and put on Ronan's 
ship."
     "So you know where we are?  And how to get to
civilization?"
     "Nope."     










                  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
                          
                          
                          
                          
                          
     "Ah, glad you could join us, Captain," Ardek said,
looking over his shoulder as he leaned over the ops console,
where "Kitty" was seated.  It did Baxter's heart good to see
the android seated at ops once again.  It almost made him
forget his ship had been taken over by an insane warlord with a
penchant for leadership skills.
     After a pause, Baxter looked at the two hulking Garibid
who flanked him.  "I didn't really have much choice.  I was
dragged, actually."
     "I was too," Plato said, and stepped out from behind
Baxter.  "But, for the record, I could have oozed away in an
instant."
     "Sure you could have, sure," Ardek said patronizingly. 
"My comrades and I were just in the middle of a little...let's
just call it a 'mission.'"
     "Really."  Baxter folded his arms.  "Do tell."
     "On screen, Jahn," Ardek giggled, pointing to Jahn, who
was at tactical.
     Jahn reluctantly tapped a control, and to Baxter's dismay
and surprise the Federation outpost Waystation appeared on the
viewscreenn.
     "You got us back to the Alpha Quadrant!" Baxter couldn't
help but exclaim.
     "I did indeed," Ardek said, rubbing his fingernails off
on his silvery jacket lapel.  "But let's not dally.  We have
work to do."
     "What kind of..."  But before Baxter could finish, Ardek
spoke:
     "Jahn, fire the tri-cobalt devices."
     Baxter lept at the tactical station, but the muscular
Garibid held him back.  They had likewise blocked Plato, who
didn't seem quite so capable of "liquefying" as he'd led Ardek
to believe.
     Jahn hit a control and a string of dark blue, twinkling tri-
cobalt devices soared out on the viewscreen, converging on the
tube which connected Waystation's upper and lower saucers.
     The tube exploded, sending a shockwave out in either
direction, which rippled throughout the station's
superstructure, exploding it slowly from the inside out,
section by section.
      After several seconds, all that remained was debris.   
     Ardek clapped happily.  "Yay!  I just LOVE blowing up
Federation outposts!"
     Baxter's mouth gaped.  "You...you Romulan son of a
bitch!"
     "And that's pretty much what it'll look like when we
actually do it," Jahn piped up.
     Baxter glared over at Jahn.  "Come again?"
     "That was just a computer simulation," Jahn said.  "We're
still very much in the Delta Quadrant."  He narrowed his eyes
at Ardek.  "DAD over there hasn't quite been able to figure out
how to bring back the Crebius Cluster."
     Ardek harrumphed.  "Jahn, you are a despicable little
boy.  I was trying to have a little laugh at Captain Baxter's
expense and you ruined it all."  He sighed and turned to
Larkin Mark I.  "Kitty, why don't you get down to Astrometrics 
and continue investigating a way to get bring back the Crebius
Cluster and get us back to my rightful quadrant.  I know you
don't quite have the 'book smarts' your sister has, but you'll
do in a pinch!  Try to absorb some of that library data from
the computer.  I'm sure it won't take long."
     Larkin nodded, and serrupticiously winked at Baxter. 
"As you wish Master Ardek."
     "Why so formal all of a sudden, hon?" Ardek asked,
arching his eyebrow suspiciously.  He threw an arm around the
android as she stood.  "Don't you still love your Unkie Ardek?"
     Larkin looked rigid as a rod.  Poor thing, thought
Baxter.  She didn't have one emotional parameter to draw on. 
She'd have to improv it.
     "Master, I...love you now as much as I ever have.  I can say
that truthfully."
     "That's all I needed to hear."  Ardek gave Larkin one
more squeeze then patted her rear.  "That's it then.  Off to
Astrometrics.  Don't call until you have something good to
report."
     "Indeed," Larkin said, almost in a mutter, and trotted
off to the foreward turbolift.
     "You ride her way too hard," Jahn grumbled.  "Almost like
a certain step-son who shall remain nameless."
     Ardek whirled to glare at Jahn.  "You are really getting
on my nerves today!  How dare you ruin my little surprise for
Captain Baxter like that.  I really had him going there!"
     "It's true," Baxter admitted.
     "Go get your ears clipped," Jahn muttered, and stuck his
finger in his ear.  He'd learned from Mirk that it was the
Maloxian equivalent of the "middle finger."  He'd rarely
seen that from Mirk cause, well, he was a pretty nice guy.
     Ardek roiled.  "Ooooh....your mother should have
lobotomized you like I suggested, Jahnnie!"
     "I KNEW you were the one who planted that silly idea 
in her head!"
     "She would have done it, too, had you not scored so high
on those blasted achievement tests!"
     Baxter raised a finger as if to intervene.  "So, Ardek,
let me interrupt this tender family moment for a second.  What
exactly do you plan on doing when and if you do get to the
Alpha Quadrant?"
     Ardek drew himself up, grinning with great pride.  He
through his hands out wide, fanned as if to encompass the
galaxy.  "How does Alpha Quadrant Emporer Ardek sound?"
     "I thought you wanted to be Leadership Director or some
stupid thing," Jahn muttered.
     "No, no, no," Ardek repeated, marching up to the
quarterdeck, where Jahn still stood at tactical.  "Emporer has
much more zing to it.  That IMPLIES the leadership role I plan
to take."  Ardek looked to Baxter, his eyes wide, frenzied.  "I
will turn that Quadrant into a well-oiled machine, Captain. 
Don't doubt that for a minute.  You should see my
organizational charts..."
     Baxter shuddered.  As much evil as this man had wrought
over the years, he was still, at his base, good-intentioned. 
Shucks, Baxter still wanted to kill him.
     "Maybe later," Baxter said.  "Before we do that, how
about you give my ship back."
     "Nope, don't think so," Ardek said, without giving it
much thought.
     "I had to at least try."
     Ardek nodded.  "Indeed."
     Quiet descended on the Explorer bridge.
     "Well, this is awkward," Ardek finally said.
     "I guess we have nothing left to say to one another,"
Baxter said.
     "Hmm."  Ardek steepled his fingers.  "Should I kill you
then?"
     "How about those Pike City Pioneers?" Plato piped up,
jabbing Baxter in the gut.
     "Yes, how bout them," Baxter muttered.  "I want my damn
ship back!"
     "You can't have it, and if you keep up with that sour attitude,
I'll just fire the both of you out of my quantum tube, how
about that?"
     "IT'S MY DAMN QUANTUM TUBE!" Baxter bellowed, 
pounding the railing that surrounded the command chairs.
     Ardek turned away and laughed uproariously.  "That in
itself is more than enough reason to keep you around, my dear
Captain.  You know just how to make me laugh.  Mokso, Lepsi,
get him and his gelatinous pal back down to the brig!"
     Baxter glowered as he was shoved roughly into the aft
turbolift.  He needed a way to get to Larkin and find out the
details of Ardek's plan, before she gave up her cover, which by
the looks of things could be sooner rather than later.

     
     "Trees, trees, more trees..." Lieutenant Gellar muttered
as he swathed his way through the thicket of growth in front of
him with a heavy stick.  Alexa trailed behind, and Henricks
behind her, "guarding their backs," armed only with an arm-
length branch that had been whiddled carefully to a point.
     "I wish you'd stop chanting that," Alexa muttered. 
"You're adding 'headache' to my long list of complaints."
     "Shall I run down the entire list?" grumbled Gellar. 
"I've got it memorized by now."
     "Please don't!" Private Henricks moaned.  "I've heard
enough out of both of you guys."
     "Well, I don't see you helping us lead the way out of
here," Alexa said, whirling on Henricks.  "You're the one who
lived on this planet.  Captain Navigator over there," she
nodded at Gellar, "is just going on instinct."
     "My instincts are finely honed!" Gellar shouted, to no
one in particular, as he swathed harder through the branches,
then promptly disappeared from sight.
     With a start, Alexa looked left and right, then up.  He
wasn't beamed out--there was no sound or trademark "whizz."  He
just...
     Then Alexa realized where he went, as she tumbled down a
hole in the ground like Alice in that story about a Wonderland....
     Branches whizzed by her face as she fell.  She tried to
grab the sides of the hole to stop her fall.  The only thing
that did finally stop her fall, satisfyingly, was Gellar.  
     He let out an "oof" as she spread out on top of him.  She
didn't have long to savor the moment, however, as Henricks
slammed down on top of her.


     Lt. Hartley stepped out onto the Escort bridge, covered in
grease, jacket stripped open, shirtsleeves shoved up around her
elbows, scuffs on the knees of her uniform pants.
     "What did you do, climb through a plasma conduit?"
Tilleran joked as she vacated the command chair.
     "Yes, actually," Hartley muttered and plopped down into
the chair.  "I need a shower like you wouldn't believe."
     "I beg to differ," J'hana said from her seat at tactical,
beside Hartley.  "You have a heady, musky smell I find quite
alluring."
     Hartley completely ignored the Andorian and swiveled the
command chair to face Tilleran, on her opposite side.  "What's
your status?"
     "We've been combing the planet for signs of human...or
android life, for that matter.  No luck."
     "There's lots of planet," Hartley said.  "I'm sure it'll
take forever to get a complete scan.  Unfortunately, we don't
have forever."
     "Hold on..."  J'hana tapped her panel.  "I've got a
contact.  You won't believe this--it's ultridium."
     Hartley blinked.  "So?"
     "So, that's a very rare alpha quadrant alloy, and it just
happens to be used in large quantities in the construction of
androids, particularly a certain android we all know."
     "Larkin!" Hartley exclaimed.
     "How'd you guess?" sniped Madera, who got a nasty glare
from Tilleran.
     "So where is Larkin?" Hartley asked.
     "That's the problem," replied J'hana.  "She's about
ninety meters underwater.  Lodged, it would appear, in some
wreckage of the Motivation."
     "F***," Hartley muttered.  "And us without our
transporters."
     "We don't have transporters?" Tilleran said, aghast.
     "No," Hartley replied.  "I figured the engines were a
little bit more important to repair since we're in hostile
territory."
     "We must rescue Larkin," J'hana said.  "We cannot
simply leave her down there to rust."
     "Well then," Hartley said, and clapped the arms of the
command chair.  "Rig us for underwater travel and take us
down."
     "Is this ship capable of maneuvering underwater?" asked
Tilleran.
     "We'll sure as hell find out!"
     "Isn't that something we should know?"
     "Honestly, the proposition never really came up."
     


     Captain Conway sat in his readyroom, Led Zeppelin
booming, and read some of the staff reports since the ship had
been tossed to the Delta Quadrant.  The Aerostar-A, meanwhile,
sailed purposefully toward Flarn space.
     The text that flew across his viewer was actually quite
interesting.  Daniello from sciences reported that he'd 
contacted a girlfriend from Beldana who he'd been messing 
around with during the original Aerostar's original mission to 
that planet.  Unlike Captain Baxter, though, Daniello managed to 
avoid getting caught by the authorities.  A disappointing footnote 
to the report is that he lost contact with the girlfriend shortly
after Ardek's people began blowing up the planet.  Conway felt
for the boy, for about two seconds, then went on to the next
report.
     He tried not to think of Alexa, who was, well, who knew
where?  She was down on Beldana for all he knew, with the
invasion force, or else somewhere else in Ardek's retarded
kingdom.  And he was powerless to get to her.  Or to get her to
date him, but that was beside the point.

     "...I'm gonna give you alla my love,
     I'm gonna give you every incha my love!"

     "COMPUTER!" grumbled Conway.  "Change the music. 
Something else by Zeppelin."
     The next music track came on, and at first, like most Led
Zeppelin, it was Robert Plant mumbling something
unintelligible.  Then came the refrain, and Conway shuddered:

     "...all of my love...all of my love, oh all of my love to
you..."
     
     Conway pounded his desk in frustration.  "Computer, shut
off the damn music!"
     He whirled in his chair to watch the stars streak by.  He
was stirred from his thoughts when his door chime rang.
     "Come," he said absently.
     "Captain...why is it so dark in here?"
     It was Mirk's voice.  Conway turned his chair to face
Mirk.  "I'm trying to create a mood, damn it.  What the hell do
you want?"
     Mirk sighed.  "The Escort is now officially out of sensor
range.  She could be crashed on Beldana for all we know."
     "Hartley's a great engineer, and for all I know she
commands pretty good too.  She'll keep the Escort together."
     "Captain, I couldn't bear it if I lost her," Mirk said,
and sat down across Conway's desk.  "Do you have a moment?"
     "Not really."
     "I can't shake the feeling that we're in far more over
our heads than usual."
     "Where'd you come up with that idea?  The Borg were far
more threatening then Ardek's wackos.  So were the Dawg.  And
the Starshine Kids, for that matter."
     "I guess you're right.  I'm just worried about Megan. 
And the fact that I'm without my powers."
     "Oh, right.  I'd forgotten about that.  Say...have our
scientists looked you over yet?  Maybe they can figure a way to
reactivate them."  Conway tapped his chin thoughtfully.  "We
could sure use you to stop time or something right about now."
     "Agreed," Mirk said eagerly, and headed for the door to
the readyroom.  "I'll get right down to the lab."
     The lab.  That's where Alexa liked to go a lot.
     "Yeah, you do that," Conway said.  He sighed as Mirk
left.  At least the Maloxian had something to do to relieve
his concerns.  And at least he was married to Hartley.  Conway
couldn't get even a simple date out of Alexa, not since the
divorce anyway.  And, if Alexa did die, as women who interested
Conway usually did, well then, that would really put a kink
into his plans.
     Conway resolved he'd need something to occupy himself
during the trip into Flarn space.  "Computer, a game of tic-
tac-toe.  Difficulty level to maximum!"


     Baxter stirred and rolled over, off his bunk and right
onto Plato.  In response, Plato softened so as to cushion the
blow, then rolled Baxter off him.
     "You did that last night too."
     "Have we been here two days already?" Baxter asked, lying
on the deck.
     "I've lost track."
     "It's either one or two days.  We should be able to
figure that out."
     "This ship might be on entirely different rotation.  They
could have fifty hour days for all we know.  Or five-hour
ones."
     Baxter rubbed his eyes.  "Plato, it's too early for
this."
     "How do you know it's early?"
     Baxter silently screamed.
     Then the doors to the brig opened, and someone called for
the lights to come up.
     Baxter leaned up, relieved to see Larkin standing
there.  Disturbed to see that she'd changed to an awful yellow
leotard.
     "Ardek has made me wear this.  I so want to kill him. 
Again."
     "That's the kind of emotion you need to show him to allay
his suspicions, Larkin!" Baxter cheered her on.  "What have
you found out?"
     "I cannot stay long."  Larkin approached the isolation
field, for which she did not know the new combination,
unfortunately.  Kitty did, but her memory engrams were locked,
possibly forever, inside Larkin.  "At any rate, I have
discovered much of Ardek's plans.  He is attempting to use a
broad-band neutrino beam to punch open a hole in subspace where
the Crebius Cluster once was in order to find the transspatial
portal which leads to the Alpha Quadrant."
     "Sounds awfully science-y to me," said Baxter.  "Has he even 
tried getting his Critic friends to help him?"
     "He has attempted to contact them, but to no avail.  It
appears they are not talking to him at the moment."
     "Thank the Directors for that," muttered Baxter.  "So
where does that leave us?  Do you think Ardek's plan will be
successful?"
     "It is possible.  There is still much we do not know
about the Directors' domains."
     "Do we know why the Critics don't have something similar
Ardek could use?"
     "He declined to talk about that, and only complained at
length that the Critics were growing increasingly useless."
     "That's to our advantage," Plato said helpfully.
     "It sure is," said Baxter.  "So where's Ardek's invasion
fleet?  Gathered here with us?"
     "That is perhaps the most disturbing piece of
information.  Apparently the bulk of Ardek's armada has
launched a full-blown assault on every Maloxian/Sulani rebel
base known to exist."
     "Tidying up here before he takes on the Alpha Quadrant."
     Larkin nodded.  "And he has every intention of using
this ship to sneak into Starfleet Command and decimate Earth." 
She said it quite calmly.
     "Is he capable of that kind of operation?"
     "He is a genius sir.  An insane one, mind you, but a
genius all the same."
     "I see," Baxter said, glowering.
     "You must be concerned about the others.  Are you and
Counselor Peterman still married?"
     Baxter looked at Larkin with rapt confusion.  "Still
married?  Of course we are!"
     "Indeed.  That contradicts many of my calculations."
     "You felt the odds were against Kelly and I staying
together?"
     "I felt nothing, sir.  But the numbers speak for
themselves."
     Baxter wanted very much to go back to sleep.


     The only thing close to this experience in Hartley's
memory was the time they had crashed the Escort on the swampy
homeworld of the Leeramar.  But they weren't trying to maneuver
in the swamp, or conduct a rescue operation.  The Escort just
sank. 
     In this case, they'd dove at an angle into the water and
took a circular course down through the abyss, riding thermals
down into a trench, where a massive chunk of the Motivation's
foreward, upper section was lodged on a reef.
     "We could be worse off," J'hana pointed out, as Hartley
looked at the remains of the ship on the viewscreen.  "We could
have been that ship."
     "Good point," Hartley said, and slapped her thighs. 
"Well, someone will have to go over there and retrieve
Larkin.  "Volunteers?"
     Tilleran and J'hana traded glances.
     "I've got to stay here and be ready to bail the ship out
at a moment's notice," Hartley said.  "So one of you have to
go."  Hartley turned to J'hana.  "If you don't succeed in
getting Larkin, it'll be an honorable death for you."
     "Don't be silly.  It would be a pathetic death," J'hana
countered.
     "Fine, I'll go," Tilleran muttered, and headed for the
aft hatch.
     "Hurry back," grumbled J'hana.
     Once Tilleran was gone, Hartley turned to J'hana.  "You
two having a spat?"
     J'hana looked at her panel uncomfortably.  "It is
something I would rather not talk about."
     "Do tell."
     "I said I would rather not talk about it and I meant it."
     "Well, I may not have the type of feelings you have for
Tilleran, but she's still my friend.  If there's something
going on, I'd like to know about it."
     J'hana grimaced.  "My relationship with Ariel has not been
the same since we stopped...fooling around."
     "My condolences," Hartley said dryly.
     "However, I had thought that my love had satisfied her. 
I'm apparently wrong."
     "Oh.  This is about her leaving, then?"
     J'hana nodded.  "She's doing it for all the wrong
reasons."
     "Don't try to convince her of that, J'hana.  Tilleran's
as pigheaded as they come.  I'm probably the only person on the
Explorer who's more pigheaded than she is.  If you try to force
your opinion on her, she'll never speak to you again.  Do you
want that?"
     J'hana's answer was quick.  "Absolutely not."
     "So let her be.  If she..." Hartley swallowed bile,
"really wants you, she'll come back to you.  Or at least come
to visit."
     "You are of course correct," J'hana said, and went to
work monitoring her panel.
     Hartley, likewise, watched a school of tentacled fish pass
by on the bubbly green-tinted viewscreen, and watched the
hulking cunk of ship that had crashed on the reef.  
     "I do hope the pressure does not crush her skull," J'hana
spoke up.
     "Yeah.  Me too."


     "YAHOOOO!  Twelve straight!"
     Conway's tic-tac-toe game was interrupted by a call on
the comm system.
     "Saral to Captain...we have arrived in Flarn space."
     He never thought that was something he'd be GLAD to hear. 
     Nah, he still wasn't glad to hear it.
     "I'll be right out," he said, and switched off the tic-
tac-toe game.
     On the bridge, his normal personnel worked with their
usual efficiency, which pretty much meant mildly efficient, and
his other guests crowded around the command arena.
     His "guests" included Richards, Browning, Peterman and her
bratty kid Steffie, Jum, Benzra, and Mirk.  Jum's Federation and
Klingon ships were flanking Aerostar, but he seemed more
interested in staying on Conway's bridge to make sure his
people's interests were being served.  Apparently, he didn't
think Mirk was capable of doing that.  There was some definite
father-son tension there.
     "Make a hole," Conway demanded, as Saral glided by with a
cup of coffee for him.  Damn, she was good!  
     The sea of people around the command chair reluctantly
parted so he could sit down.  He turned around and sat down in
the chair.  "Well, people, find seats.  This could get dicey."
     "You expect the negotiations to take a long time?" Jum
asked pointedly.  "I'll remind you that my forces on Beldana
are being subverted as we speak!"
     "Remind all you want, but be quiet about it," Conway
said, then turned to helm.  "Ford, just where the hell are we?"
     Ford turned to face Conway.  "Well, the Borg ship that
crashed into Flarn Prime all those years back rendered it
pretty much unliveable.  However, I've found an encampment of
Flarn and ten vessels surrounding Flarn Six."
     "On screen," Conway said.  The ugly brown and orange
planet popped up on the viewscreen.  A grouping of Flarn
vessels, looking quite the worse for wear, huddled in orbit. 
One broke off, approaching the Aerostar.
     "What can you tell me about those ships?" Conway asked
Saral.
     Saral tapped at her station.  "They are regulation
Flarn vessels, but they are in a state of abject disrepair. 
It appears that parts and repairs have been improvised
extensively just to keep them operable."
     "The Flarn have fallen on hard times, apparently," said
Richards.
     "A pity," muttered Jum.
     "Dad," Mirk said.  "That's not very forward-thinking of
you."
     "Who said anything about thinking forward?"
     "Now," Peterman said, stepping in between Mirk and Jum,
ever the peacemaker.  "Why don't we try to put our
disagreements aside?  We need the Flarn.  Let's try to treat
them with respect.  A little honey is better than--"
     "Can it," Conway snapped, and looked back to tactical. 
"Puckett, hail that ship."
     Steffie stomped over to the command chair.  "You cannot
tell my mommie to shut up, Mister!"
     "Oh, don't you start with me," muttered Conway.
     "Back away from him," Peterman said, taking Steffie's
hand.  "You don't' want to accidentally pick up on any of his
personality quirks."
     "You'll get enough of those from 'Daddy,'" muttered
Conway, as a pathetic-looking Flarn appeared on the screen. 
Peterman looked like she wanted to continue the conversation,
but deferred to the being on the screen.
     Benzra gasped at the Flarn's appearance.  His
exoskeleton did not have a healthy sheen, nor were his teeth
filed satisfactorily.  
     "I am Abraz, of the Flarn freighter Kelprissssssss. 
What do you want?"
     Benzra stepped down in front of Conway.  And when someone
of her bulk stepped in front of you, well, there was no way
around that.
     "Abraz, the author of sssssssssssuch prize-winning poetry
as 'To Tassssssssste a Humanoid' and 'Growlssssssss, Etc.'?"
Benzra inquired.
     Abraz grunted, cocked his head.  "Once, but never again. 
Who are you?  What are you doing in that ssssssssssssssssship? 
It looks vaguely..."  His compound eyes widened.  "Federation! 
All ssssssssssshipssssssss...open fire!"
     Conway lept out of his chair, trying to signal Puckett to
raise shields, but Benzra completely blocked him from her view.
     Benzra, though, held up her claws in surrender.  "No, no,
we mean no harm to you, Abraz.  We want to help."
     "It's you Federationsssssssssss who brought that
insssssssssssane Ardek here.  The Flarn empire would have
been rebuilt had it not been for him!"
     "Sure it would have," Ford said.  Conway didn't even get
the satisfaction of slapping him.  He tried to shove Benzra's
spindly exoskeleton aside, but the Flarn weighed an easy ton.
     "Listen, Abraz.  We have come back here from the Alpha
Quadrant to try and desssssssssstroy Ardek."  Not quite the
truth, but it would work in a pinch, thought Conway.
     "Why should I trussssssssst you?"
     "If, on the ssssssssssmall chance that we ssssssucceed, with 
your help, in dethroning Ardek, the Flarn empire can take itssssss 
rightful place controlling the Delta Quadrant again!"
     Conway definitely didn't like the sound of that.  But at
the moment, he was helpless.
     Abraz rubbed his chin with his one good claw.  "Now that
doesssssssss interesssssst me."
     "Let usssssssss help you enhance your shipssssssssssss'
weaponssssss.  We will help you to rid this quadrant of Ardek. 
Will you help ussssssss?"
     "Hey...aren't you Benzra?
     "Why, yessssss...how do you know me?"
     "You were on the vidivissssssssssion for a while.  That
cooking show!  Two Fat Flarn!"
     If Benzra was capable of blushing, Conway was sure she
would have.
     "Well, yes, that was a fun ssssssssshow.  But that
wassssss agesssss ago."
     "In that cassssssssse, I will definitely help you.  I
loved that ssssssssshow."
     "Really."
     "Yessssss.  And, maybe, after all this war ssssssssstuff
is over with, you would consssssssssent to a date.  It hassssss
been months ssssssssince my thorax was breached."
     "Mine as well," said Benzra.  "Our engineersssssssssss
will be in touch with you ssssssssssssssshortly.  I will be in
touch with you after the battle."
     Abraz blipped off the screen and Benzra turned to Conway. 
"Was that ok?"
     "Yes, but never do that again!" Conway railed.
     "So much for long negotiations," muttered Jum as he
headed for the aft turbolift.  "Is there a place I can get a
strong drink on this ship?"
     Conway nodded, reluctantly.  "There's a Spacebucks on
Deck 9 and a GuinanCo Ltd. Goodtimes Food Hut on Deck 10."
     "Splendid," Jum said, as the turbolift doors closed.
     Benzra trotted, as lightly as a one-ton creature could
trot, over to the foreward turbolift.  "I am going to go powder
my thorax."
     "Well, that was a success," Browning said, and plopped down
in the chair next to Conway.  "I think."


     Down on Beldana, down a frightfully dark hole, Gellar,
Alexa, and Private Henricks lay still and confused, coughing
dust.
     "Where are we?" Alexa choked out.
     "Get off my ankle," Gellar moaned.
     "I think this is one of our underground tunnels," said
Henricks.  "With any luck, we're close to the remaining corps
of--"
     "There--I knew I heard something!" came a sprightly
female voice, causing Gellar's, Alexa's, and Henricks's heads
to turn.
     A light beam traced over the dark tunnel, lighting up the
figures of the three displaced humans.
     "Get that damn light out of our faces!" Alexa fairly
shouted, leaning up.
     "Well, aren't you all a sight for sore eyes."  The beam
played along Alexa's face.  "Except you.  I don't know who the
hell you are."
     "Jenny!" cried Henricks, and he got to his feet, then
lept into Jennifer Prescott' waiting arms.  She dropped her
phaser rifle and its accompanying beacon played across
the cave walls.
     Alexa sat beside Gellar, looking on with great concern. 
"Brian...should I be relieved or worried?"
     Gellar shrugged.  "Honestly, I'm not sure."










                  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
                          
                          
                          
                          

     "Say again, Tilleran?"  Hartley scratched her head.
     Lt. Commander Tilleran's voice crackled over the comm
channel.  "I said, I found her torso, but can't find her arms
and legs."
     J'hana growled at tactical.  "Ardek's people are
merciless."
     "Keep looking for more of Larkin's alloy.  Those arms
and legs are there somewhere.  We don't have time to build 
her new ones!"
     "I'll keep looking, Megan.  But I only have ten
minutes of oxygen left."
     "Coward," J'hana muttered.
     Hartley whirled.  "This is not the time!"
     "Whatever.  I'm going to the pantry."  J'hana got up and
left the bridge.
     Hartley leaned back in her chair.  "Why me.  Why am I put
in command of this idiotic crew at a time like this?"
     At helm, Madera looked back at Hartley innocently. 
"Maybe it's destiny."
     "Shut the hell up."


     Dr. Lanham marveled at the crowd of Beldanans, Sulani and
Maloxians, and other assorted species she could not
identify.  They were crammed into the cavern that was linked,
by narrow connecting tunnels, to the chamber she, Gellar, and
Henricks had fallen into.  They appeared to be priming
weapons and packing crates full of food supplies, ammo, and
medkits.
     Henricks had immediately, on seeing Jennifer Prescott
looming over him, lept into her arms and begun kissing her
ravenously.  They'd not left each other's grasp at the time
that Prescott was showing the group around the resistance
compound.
     "...managed to save twenty plasma rifles, fourteen
concussion bombs, and about fifty power paks," Prescott said 
as she led the group through the cavern.
     "That's not going to make it easy to fight our way off
Beldana," Henricks said quickly.
     "No sh**," Prescott replied just as quickly.  "We were
actually hoping Starfleet would have a plan for getting us out
of here."  She looked to Alexa and Gellar.  "They did, after
all, lead the fleet of leader-ships here, did they not?"
     "How could you know that?" Gellar asked, then added
quickly.  "I mean, no we didn't."
     "We were in contact with Jum until...hah...CAPTAIN
Conway's ship fled the scene."  She looked at Henricks.  "It
was about then that they started barraging our compounds on
multiple continents with antiproton bombs.  We were lucky to
get 200 people down here to the emergency shelter."
     "We certainly can't sit around waiting," Gellar said. 
"From what I saw up there, the ground occupation forces
probably outnumber the resistance three to one."
     "Sharp calculations," Alexa said.  "But can your tactical
mind come up with a way to get us off this pleasant-weather
rock?"
     Prescott shoved herself in between Alexa and Gellar.  "We've
got a plan, actually."
     "I knew you would," Henricks said, as Prescott led he and
the group to a table, over which a marked-up planetary map had
been lain.  Prescott shrugged off her uniform top to reveal a
beige tanktop and chiseled physique.  Gellar noted that Prescott
had taken to Henricks's hard core marine training routine
quite well.
     "Just before our satellite nets were shot down, they
picked up the largest Leadership Teams beaming in here and
here."  She pointed to spots on the map.  "Leaving a corridor,
just south of this island, that's relatively unprotected.  We
have three shuttles.  About two-thirds of us can get off-planet
and regroup on Sulan."
     "On your way," Alexa said, looking over Prescott shoulder. 
"Do you think you could drop us off at the Aerostar?"
     "Hah!" exclaimed Prescott.  "After that ship left us to rot
here?  I don't think so.  I don't care if I served on an
Aerostar before, I don't care if you are all Starfleet or
Federation or whatnot.  None of that matters now.  Henricks
and I have a mission to stop Ardek and his people, and we don't
have the luxury of helping you reunite with your crew,
especially when your crew wasn't so concerned about us!"
     "Muzzle it, soldier!"  Alexa looked with amazement to see
that it was Henricks who'd said that.
     Prescott turned, hair stringing down into her angry eyes. 
"WHAT?"
     "The people from the Aerostar and the Explorer can help
us get this quadrant back.  They WILL help us get this quadrant
back.  Captain Conway resolved to do that.  Gellar and this
other chick told me so!"
     "He's right," Gellar said, noting that Alexa bristled at
the word "chick."  "Captain Conway has every intention of
helping your resistance.  He just...went to get reinforcements,
I'm sure."  Alexa shot him a doubting look, and Gellar shrugged
back at her.  Neither of them could be sure of what, exactly,
Captain Conway was doing at that very moment.


     "That's a boy, wag your butt, wriggle it, wriggle it!" 
Conway chanted as he held Bucky the Welsh Corgi above his 
head and danced in the (real water) shower.
     "Richards to Conway," buzzed the comm system.  "We're 
about an hour's worth of work away from getting the Flarn vessels 
outfitted with quantum torpedoes."
      "That was quick," Conway said, tucking Bucky away under
his armpit.
     "They didn't have many ships," Richards replied over
the comm.  "And we have plenty of extra hands, what with the
bulk of the Explorer crew being over here."
     "That is a plus," Conway muttered.
     "Another plus, Captain," said Richards.  "Remember that
anti-proton cannon that gives us such a fit every time we run
across a Flarn ship?"
     "Vaguely."
     "Well, I was able to spring one from a derelict Flarn
ship.  Advantage, us!"
      "Keep up the good work, Richards, and keep me posted." 
Conway stepped out of the shower, Bucky still under his arm,
and toweled.
     It was then that he heard a chirp at his door.
     "Um...come?"  He poked his head out of the bathroom door.
     Janice Browning poked her head inside.  "Dave?  Am I
interrupting something?"
     Conway placed Bucky in front of his crotch and sidled out
of the bathroom, holding a towel over his rear end.  "Of course
not.  I was just, doing my captain exercises."
     "Captain exercises?"
     "Very complex calisthenics.  They're not recommended for
people who aren't captains."  
     Browning nodded.  "I see.  Got a minute?"
     Conway nodded in the direction of his couch.  "Sure.  Let
me just find some pants."
     "Good idea."
     Browning sat on Conway's ghelat fur couch and stared out at
the stars, and at Flarn Six rotating below.  She twiddled her
thumbs idly.
     Moments later, Conway vaulted over the couch to sit next
to Browning, and Bucky was magically somehow there in his lap at
the very same time.  "Great to see you as always, Doctor, I
mean Janice.  What's up?"
     "I've been very concerned."
     "Sure."  Conway blinked.  "About what, exactly?"
     "My son.  You know how he's trapped on the Explorer?"
     "Yes, right.  Of course.  I was thinking about that just now."
     "Anyway, I know he's with Captain Baxter, but that
doesn't exactly make me feel any better."
     "Nor should it," Conway said honestly.  "Let's put aside
Baxter's incompetence...Ardek is one irritating hombre.  Look
at what he did to the first Larkin just before she died
trying to kill him."
     Browning shuddered.  "This is not helping."
     "Listen, I have issues too.  Someone I care a lot about
is out there, lost, and I can't do anything about it...also."
     "Who?"
     "Doctor Lanham."
     "Ahhh.  Trying to undo that divorce?"
     Conway shook his head woefully.  "With no success."    
     "Maybe things will be better after she returns from
wherever she is right now.  If she ever does."
     Conway stroked Bucky.  "See...doesn't that make you feel
better about your problem?"
     "Not really."
     "Well I'm sure feeling better.  What's say we go down to
the GuinanCo Ltd. Goodtimes Food Hut Inc. and get a space
taco?"
     "Are you hitting on me, Captain?"
     "Couldn't hurt."
     Browning tossed a vase at Conway.  It was a wonder he even
had a vase.  They weren't really his style, but Alexa had
suggested it when they were shopping on Tellar, and he couldn't
resist.  It was open on both ends, as Tellarite vases often
were, which presented a logic problem that Conway solved by
lying it on its side and shoving flowers in either side.  It
was made of solidly-built stone, something Conway realized as
it slammed into the side of his head.
     Through the stars that clouded his eyesight, Conway saw
Browning walk out his door.
     "Thanks for nothing, Captain."
     Conway sat, rubbing his head.  Bucky licked his face.  He
looked down at the corgi.  "Was it something I said?"


     "I don't know how I managed it, but I found her arms and
legs," Lt. Commander Tilleran said, shrugging off her soaked,
jury-rigged space suit as J'hana and Hartley hovered over the
android, who lay gracefully still on the biobed in the cramped
sickbay.
     "Here's a question," Hartley said, as she yanked some
seaweed out of Larkin's mouth.  "Can you get her operational
again?"
     Tilleran shrugged.  "Chris's the real expert on her. 
Didn't you work on her one or two times?"
     "A few."  Hartley pushed up her sleeves.  "I've already
fixed one wreck today, though."
     "Looks like we're going to have to put our heads together
and sweat this thing out," Tilleran said, stepping out of her
space trousers and over to the biobed.
     "I must go to the bridge and...think," J'hana said
suddenly and fled Sickbay.
     "She been acting strange to you?" Tilleran asked as
Hartley cranked open Larkin's chest cavity.
     "Not that I've noticed," Hartley said quickly and tossed
her toolkit up