Written history

From MU

MU History: Story Part 1

PART THE FIRST (recorded contemporaneously by the typist of Shadi Erc and Suzanne Taylor)

A year. The Maquis Universal had managed to survive a year, despite the threats, the attacks, and her own death as well as those of many others. Suzanne Taylor, MU administrator, surveyed her territory, her base and outlying land on a planet in the EnigMaian system, with pride and a little bit of awe. They were so few, she and her officers, but they’d managed to stand against an evil Empire and launch a new beginning of hope.

“Not that things haven’t changed,” the tall redhead remarked, stacking her informational PADDs at her corner spot behind the bar in the MU lounge. The room was large, full of the things her people needed for recreation, a jukebox, computer consoles, holovids, and what they seemed to use most often, the bar. The walls were a pale grey, the windows covered in similarly-shaded blinds which were now open, revealing the green, lush EnigMaian countryside.

Kairal N’Tori, MU Director of Technical Services, nodded, her delicate frame pacing gracefully in mid-room. Her grey eyes, shot through with blue flecks, narrowed, darkening as they usually did in emotional moments, now glowing, with the heat of a memory. “Komtok Lorenssith didn’t get all he deserved.”

Suzanne shrugged. “We never promised them vengeance. Only a safe haven.” She smiled slightly, her lips barely showing sardonic amusement. “It was haven, anyway. It’s been anything but safe.”

When Suzanne and MU associate Sierra Quinn had first approached the disgruntled officers of the United Empire of Planets, the six hadn’t even blinked at second thoughts, throwing their fate to the winds and coming on board immediately. The Maquis had reaped the benefit: two engineers, K’Taron and Julian McKinley; an experienced medical holographic officer known only as EMH, pilot Johnathan Stokes, former UEP second in command Dr. Jason McGann, and JAG Officer Nightshade Erc, who since crosstrained as a Maquis doctor to fill the needs of her new organization. Suzanne was particularly proud to have persuaded K’Taron and Nightshade, as they were the adopted daughters of the Empire’s leader - a factor which later led to the downfall of their enemy.

"Their diversity has contributed to our growth and survival.” N’Tori sat down finally at her specially designed computer console, interfacing with it in her state as energy being. Her fingers flowed over the terminal, gathering statistical information and sending out commands faster than a human mind could process. She turned to Taylor with a slight frown, burgundy highlights glowing in her long black hair. “Do any ships currently have clearance to be in our space?”

“No.” The voice from the door was soft but resolute. Maquis Security officer Squall Leonheart, a man of few words, made a career out of being unobtrusive but firm, his youthful appearance covering the years of schooling by hard life experience. “Who this time?” He walked on long legs over to N’Tori’s console to read over her shoulder. “Orions?” He frowned and turned to Taylor. “Erc.”

Suzanne barely concealed a disgusted look. Nightshade’s husband had been nothing but a constant thorn in her side since the former Empire officers had joined the Maquis. The little troll -Ferengi, she corrected herself - refused to become part of the organization but played along its fringes, sometimes assisting the MU and sometimes working at complete cross-purposes. This was apparently one of the latter. As an avid trader not too careful of his ethics, Erc sparked a number of conflicts with passing dealers, some angry enough to take a shot, often at Taylor herself. She sighed. “Hail them.”

N’Tori complied, her soft, musical voice sounding more like an invitation than a challenge. “Orion ship, this is the Maquis base. How may we assist you?”

The viewscreen lit up to reveal an angry olive-skinned humanoid dressed in an animal skin coat. “Where is the scum-sucking Ferengi son of a targ?”

Kairal contained the smirk to her eyes, wondering offhand if Erc would have found that complimentary. “He’s not here. I’d suggest you contact him on the Glutton.”

The Orion growled. “And they will tell me to contact him at the Maquis base.” His dark fiery eyes looked around the room and pinned Taylor as leader as surely as if she’d been wearing insignia. “We warn you, female, that we shall hold you responsible for his actions as long as he transacts business there. You should choose your friends and associates carefully -- they could lead to your downfall!” He cut the transmission abruptly. Suzanne and Kairal looked at each other, Suzanne raising an eyebrow.

“Blowhard.” Squall shouldered his gunblade and headed down the hall to his office.

Kairal laughed. “That about sums it up.” She finished her daily processing and brought several more datapads to Taylor’s preferred workspace, a computer console mounted behind the bar. The lounge being the heart of Maquis operations, Taylor liked to keep an eye on what was happening, and the console kept her linked with all relevant information at a fingertip touch. Kairal only added to the pile of work waiting for her superior. “I’ve analyzed T’Pen’s projections for the brig and agree that the new specifications should be able to contain even a being like myself. Since the place seems to have plenty of use...it would be best to have it remain as secure as possible.”

“I agree. Although I’d be just as happy if we never used it.” There hadn’t been enough action of late, and the junior officers had been getting into skirmishes with each other as well as visitors. Erc had been a guest of Maquis security within the past several weeks, as had Rictor, the dark Klingon leader of DragonFleet, who had come with an offer of peace and then incited Maquis officers, particularly one of the newer men, Dakota Dallas, to attack him. Rictor’s last act on leaving Maquis space was to spout off about a declaration of war. It was the bloodwine, she thought. When he sobered up, he would have forgotten about it.

“I’ve also upgraded security as far as the computers will allow at this time.” Kairal cleared her throat. “We need new equip--”

“I know, I know. Unfortunately we haven’t made the connections we need to in the new universe. I’d hoped that Erc would be able to make things happen. “ She frowned. “Unfortunately, it’s been the wrong things.”

Her companion nodded, smoothing her dark dress uniform. “Then I shall move on to other duties.”

“Very well. I know where to find you.”

Suzanne watched as N’Tori left the room, thinking of all the things they’d hoped for when they ripped through the boundaries of the mirror universe into this alternate one, to escape the remaining threats and intrusions by the Empire. Some of them, they’d realized. Some, they’d lost. Agent Alpha 1 had parlayed a talent for special weapons and tactics into a Time Corps operation which had saved them on several occasions. K’Taron and Julian McKinley had both been killed in separate incidents, months apart. Sierra Quinn, Nightshade’s older children, Weyoun and Jon, and others had moved on, fallen out of touch. Suzanne herself had rediscovered her daughter, Piper Donovan, taken from her at a young age by a vengeful father ...and then Suzanne had fallen victim to a “Fatal Attraction” obsession of an old enemy of Erc’s, snd was killed in an explosion. The Time Corps, however, in a time of war against StarFleet Universal and Taylor’s former lover Admiral Charles Damark, decided it was worth the risk to the timeline to rescue Taylor the moment before the bomb went off, and did so, leading to some confusion but Taylor’s restoration of life. The awe of the possibilities humbled her. She hoped she was grateful.

No rest for the wicked, Suzanne thought, looking at the pile of work next to her. She got a cup of tea from the newly-repaired replicator and started at the top.

Dr. Eugene Boring finished putting the 10th ball into the small plastic cup on the navy blue-carpeted floor of his Sickbay Delta office. He smiled. “Another perfect round.” Just as I find out we’ve lost another doctor and I won’t have time to get back out onto the greens. The thought irritated him and he looked out his door to see if anyone else had come into sickbay. The patient census was better today. Only Mora, the Klingon doctor from the old Empire was on the list, and she was in a coma. Not much to tax the brain. He frowned and leafed through some medical journals, hoping to find a stimulating case.

“Who’d have thought this would be where I’d spend the best years of my career?”

The Ferengi looked around the modest lab and six-bed bay. “Back on Ferenginar...I’d have a mansion and a real practice and a retirement account with lots of zeroes.” He sighed. What he had was an unpretentious house in a mid-range suburb, where his wife Lana stayed in classic Ferengi wife style while he commuted to the EnigMaian home of the Maquis. It was all Erc’s fault.

Boring picked a black hair off his white lab coat and frowned. He’d come here in the beginning as Erc’s private doctor, to tend his Biakan wife Nightshade, known to her friends as Shadi, through a difficult pregnancy. Erc liked foreign women, for some reason. His first wife was Q (Boring rolled his eyes, remembering), and the new wife was having a difficult time carrying the mixed race child to full term. After the delivery, Boring had liked the facility, tolerated its administrator and had agreed to stay on as part of the medical department.

He snorted. “Good thing I did, too! Shadi being in and out of the hotseat as often as a Talosian floatbat changes spots, and always leaving a stack of paperwork.” He thought about making rounds, and then set up the plastic cup again, practicing his putt another ten shots. At least he’d gotten a commission out of Taylor after she returned from the dead. Strange thing about these Maquis...worse than vampires. You need to see them dead, then put a stake through their heart, then burn them, then scatter the ashes...and maybe they’ll stay dead. He shrugged, philosophical about the situation. “Least no one has sued me for wrongful death.”

So here he was in midlife, working as a Preferred Provider on an HMO system (he silently cursed Taylor for tricking him into that one), a Captain of the Maquis Universal who assumed command frequently as there was never anyone responsible around in a crisis. Not that the work wasn’t challenging from time to time. He’d found a huge need for psychotherapeutic services which he’d been glad to fill, counseling with all from the top to the bottom of the command chain. He’d delivered a nursery load of babies for Maquis and non-Maquis alike (as long as they had an insurance card). He felt...useful. For now, that was enough.

A door slid open down in the main bay and the hurried clatter and muttered curses let the Ferengi doctor know Dr. Erc was in. Wondering what personal crisis would overshadow her work today, he putted the last ball in and then walked out into the well-lit room.

“Hey, Eugene.” Shadi’s smile was brilliant and she actually looked well-rested. “It doesn’t look like things have changed around here much.”

“No. Who signed Taylor out?”

She looked at him, eyes wide. “Not me. I actually...wasn’t sure she’d live.” Shadi went over to check the chart on the computer. She frowned. “She signed out AMA.”

Boring snorted. “Figures.”

“She must be all right, though. She hasn’t come back, has she?” Shadi looked around, sapphire eyes noting every detail. “You weren’t busy today.” To his curious look, she replied, “The place is clean.”

“Oh, that. Something about a sickbay being a place where certain sterile precautions are used to prevent the spread of germs and pestilence.” He shook his head and got a cup of a sour-smelling Ferengi blend of beetle tea from the replicator.

“And Piper’s fully recovered from her wounds and left sickbay too.” Shadi laughed. “She’ll be Suzanne’s watchdog. We won’t have to worry about our glorious leader trying to play Superwoman. If she as much as sneezes, her daughter will slap her back in here.”

Boring muttered something about the efficacy of trying to kill any of the Maquis, but Shadi was reading the logs to see if anything else important had happened in the last 24 hours. He sighed. It’s not like she ever gets away from here. She and Erc live less than a mile from the door to the main building. She got dragged in to be the administrator while Taylor was...gone. She lives and breathes the Maquis. He glanced at her, thinking of their many counseling sessions and the guilt and responsibility she carried on her shoulders, enough for all the Maquis and more. But it was what made her so uniquely her, with all her frustrations and appealing warmth.

“Nothing about Mac.” She sighed, running fingers through her shoulder-length dark blonde hair, and tucked the supplies she’d brought from home into a desk drawer.

“Ah.” He sipped his tea and watched her. Their relationship had grown from a doctor not paid enough and a reluctant patient, to a mentor and medical student, to colleagues and now friends. Boring reflected if he tried to count his true friends, he probably wouldn’t need both hands. “I thought the scuttlebutt was that Kairal N’Tori was supposed to devise some magic solution.”

“Believe me, if there was anything I could do to help get my brother back, I would.” Her face grew serious and she sat back in her chair. “I mean, I understand about war being hell, and I’m sure if Kairal found it necessary to kill him--I mean, send him into subspace...or whatever....” She trailed off, confused, her loss none the less, but the inability to explain it more.

Case in point, Boring thought. Julian McKinley. Dead. And yet not dead. A former Maquis who’d defected to StarFleet Universal, when the war between the two entities broke out, he’d become a prisoner of the Maquis. Kairal N’Tori’s report was clear that Julian was a hostile, belligerent, destructive prisoner who provoked the attack which threw him into a forcefield. But what would have killed the average human launched the Bajoran into subspace, where he remained a hostage to his own impulsiveness, able to interact only seldom with this world, and unable to escape. “I’m sure they’ll think of something.”

Shadi only nodded. “I thought Dr. Mason was on tonight?”

Boring shrugged and straightened a tray of instruments. “She’s apparently jumped ship. She left a note saying she was needed back at the Federation.”

Shadi raised an eyebrow. “Federation? She was sent by them? No wonder she kept asking so many questions about Peyton.” Her face contorted with the pain of loss again. “Wherever he is.”

He smiled at her. “They come and they go. Just like patients. The key is not to get too attached.” Setting his cup down, he picked up his clubs. “Tee time. I’ll check in with you later.”

“All right.” She smiled back. “Thanks. Have a good game.”

He nodded and walked out. Shadi looked around, checked on Mora with a sigh, wondering when she would ever wake up, and tried a new stimulant with no visible effect. She left a note saying she was headed out for some coffee and went down to the lounge. Chase Austin was behind the bar, joking with Dakota Dallas and pouring him an ale. “Hey! There’s some friendly faces.” She smiled and took the stool next to Dallas.

“G’day, Doc,” Dallas said. He was fairly new to the Maquis, not a big man, but powerfully built, rugged good looks having touched the heart of most of the women passing through the lounge in the last several months. He was a drifter, someone without roots who’d stumbled on the Maquis almost by accident and fit into a niche as jack of all trades. He’d even helped Peyton Barnes perform a delicate piece of surgery on Shadi’s back and legs when she’d been injured at the hands of an enemy.

Shadi smiled at Chase, whose strawberry blonde hair was wrapped up tight for easy care, and then Dallas. “Glad I made Happy Hour.” She got some coffee out of the never-ending pot of fresh brewing at the end of the bar. “How are the kids, Chase?”

Chase laughed at the thought of their niece and nephew, Julian and K’Taron’s children, now left essentially orphans. Chase had taken them in to fill her empty household, finding them bright and mischievous. “A handful!”

“Welcome to the wonderful world of parenthood.” Shadi relaxed in her chair, comfortable in her own marriage and motherhood to two families...her natural born children and her adopted ones, a baker’s dozen all told. The five children at home now, Erc’s two, half-Q, half-Ferengi, the one year old twins she and Erc had produced, with their own special powers, and Chad, destined to grow up to be a powerful agent of the Maquis, were all the trouble she could handle.

“How’s the Cap? Ain’t seen him for several days,” Dallas said, kicking back and drinking his beer.

“Erc’s fine...I think.” Shadi laughed. “I guess I’m not my husband’s keeper. He does what he needs to, and I do too.” She looked at Dallas, silently wondering if he wasrecovering from the flashbacks he’d had after recent events at both the Maquis base and DragonFleet had recalled for him days as a prisoner of war during the Terran Conflicts. There was no way to bring it up that wouldn’t be painful, so she left it alone, watching Chase play bartender. “What? Suzanne doesn’t give you enough to do?”

The slender woman laughed. “It’s not like security hasn’t been thoroughly tested lately. There’s just nothing to do right now, and this is where everyone ends up sooner or later. I hear it all here.”

“I see. What an interesting technique for information-gathering.” She looked in the mirror, watching their faces. “No sign of Adekka?”

A cloud passed over Dallas’ face. Chase shook her head, then looked at Dallas, concerned. “Whatever called her away must have gotten bigger than she expected, Dakota. Don’t worry, she’ll be back.” She winked a sparkling blue eye. “If she’s not, I think I know girls who’ll be standing in line.”

Dallas blushed. “Don’t tease me, ma’am. I know better.”

It was a shame. They’d seemed so good together, both with a turbulent inner life, both complicated individuals with a strong moral sense and a willingness for self-sacrifice for others...

But Adekka Aksala had disappeared after being in sickbay several weeks before, just noting she had some personal business to take care of - and hadn’t come back. Shadi sighed.

“What’s up, Angel?” Chase asked. “Boring treating you well?”

“He’s been great. Ever since I said I wanted part time to be with the children more while all this nonsense was going on with Nick Winston, he’s worked to accommodate every change I’ve asked for.” She sipped her coffee. “But they’re down a doctor again, so I expect I’ll be around more.” To Chase’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Emerie Mason. Guess she was just a Federation spy, looking for Peyton Barnes to bring him in.”

Dallas set his glass down. “No way.”

She nodded. “That’s what Eugene said.”

Chase frowned. “I don’t think I ever met her. But if she was after Peyton, I hope someone gives her what’s coming to her.”

“Never happen, ma’am. Seems to me people get away with causing lot of pain to others and it never catches up. “ Dallas looked darkly at Shadi’s reflection. “You know it’s true. Your ex-husband... Dekka’s Empire enemies... that Arabella from SFU. All seem to be harm-resistant.” He shrugged and held his empty glass out to Chase, who refilled it silently.

Loud voices and girlish laughter from the door stole all their attention and they turned to see Czevn Lavisov and her friend Svetlana slip in, Czevn back in her purple wig now that she was on the prowl again, her divorce from Quark final, and Lana in a tight black dress that showed everything.

“Goot eevening,“ Svetlana said with a wink for Dallas. “How ees everyone?”

Chase held up a hand, inviting the women to sit at the bar. Shadi took her coffee cup and grabbed a datapad from the bar, moving to a table as she remembered some notes she was supposed to make. Each of the women took a seat on either side of Dallas and he could feel his temperature rise.

“Yes, Dakota,” Czevn said in a soft, come-hither voice. “How are you?”

“Fine, ma’am.” He smiled, seeing the set-up for what it was. He took his filled glass from Chase and diplomatically proposed a toast to beautiful women everywhere, bringing a rash of giggles from the two sitting next to him and an indulgent smile from the bartender.

“So vhere ees Han Solo?” Svetlana asked, her straight dark hair just grazing her shoulders. “I miss heem when he ees not here. He ees a good flatterer.”

Czevn aimed a hand at her friend’s shoulder. “Of course eet ees all about you. Alvays.” She adjusted her low-cut blouse so it showed off her assets to best advantage. “Are you going to seeng tonight?”

“Should I?” Svetlana’s question was directed to Czevn, but her eyes watched Dallas, and twinkled. “Zomething for those who are alone and theenking of those zey love.”

“No worries, ma’am, don’t do it on my account.” Dallas shifted uncomfortably. Was it necessary that everyone in the base know his personal business? He held off a growl remembering that Doc Boring had explained to him how important he was to his comrades. If they didn’t care, no one would even notice, he thought.

“Ees no trouble.” Svetlana adjusted the lighting and removed her jacket, crawling up onto the bar, where she teetered on tall stiletto heels. Getting the replicated microphone, she broke into a rendition of “He was her Man, and She Done him Wrong,” drooping over the bar dramatically as she found appropriate. They all listened (it was hard to do anything else) and then applauded politely when she was done.

Czevn shrugged and poured a second vodka. “She ees better vhen she ees drunk.”

She handed the bottle to Svetlana, who shoved it back along the bar.

“I am in the mood for --- strawberry daquiri!” Lana made a face at Czevn and nodded hopefully to Chase.

“I hope I’m up to that. Does it have vodka?” Chase looked around curiously behind the bar for ingredients or directions. “I don’t know. I’m real good with...beer.”

Svetlana’s forehead wrinkled and her dark eyes grew misty. “Vodka? I don’t sink so.”

Czevn smacked herself in the forehead. “Not vodka. Rum. Vhere you born on a barn?”

Thinking back to an earlier question, Dallas wondered, “Where is Solo anyway? He’s usually around here looking for a little action--”

“Not only looking, dah’link.” Lana winked, making her meaning clear.

Shadi glanced up, thinking of her own friendship with Han Solo, nothing like Svetlana’s apparently. Erc had been jealous for some time, but that was past, and Solo was now a valued friend and advisor. He and Peyton Barnes had grown close in recent weeks; perhaps they were off on some adventure together.

“I’d better get back to sickbay. If anyone needs me, give me a call.” Shadi refilled her coffee and headed back down to finish some experiments and await the ritual evening deluge of injuries.

“See you, Shadi,” Chase said, holding a couple of open bottles over a blender, pouring in some from first one, then the other, as Svetlana called directions from the other side of the bar.

“Night, Doc.” Dallas was already exchanging looks with Czevn, who was working on another vodka. He leaned closer to her. “Weren’t you seeing that Ferengi nurse?”

“Deh Vil’am?” Czevn gave a soft smile. “He has a real tiger in his pants, yes?”

He chuckled. “Well, ma’am, I wouldn’t know. And I’m not sure I want to. But if he’s so hot, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you.. well, you know?”

Czevn brushed her hair back from her forehead and gave a throaty laugh. “Ve are two free peoples. I don’t claim heem, he don’t claim me. None of this “i marry you and then dump you on your ass because you are worth nothink” stuff again.” She nodded vehemently and Dallas caught Chase’s eye, both of them trying not to laugh.

“Sounds good.” Chase put the lid on the blender after throwing in a couple scoops of ice and let her rip. They all turned to watch the whirling pink liquid, staring at it hypnotically.

Finally Lana rapped on the counter. “I sink eet ees dead now.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, just a sec.” Chase laughed a little selfconsciously and got a tall curved glass to fill with the frozen concoction. “Now if that is good, I’m putting in for a raise.”

Czevn rolled her eyes. “If eet has alcohol in eet, Lana will sink eet ees good.”

Svetlana stuck her tongue out. “Bite me, nuchkess.”

“Your papa was a hog farmer.”

“You sleep with eel entrails.” Lana sipped her drink and took a step closer.

“Your mama was the daughter of a squid butcher!” Czevn’s color was high and she tensed in a way Dallas didn’t like, having seen it before. He rose slowly to his feet, arms out to separate the two women, both pink-cheeked and flashing eyes.

“Hey, hey now, you sheilas calm down, eh? The last thing we need is a cat fight--” He didn’t even finish before Czevn went after Lana, claws and all. Dallas went down behind the stool with Czevn on top of him.

“Dakota?” Chase leaned over to see if he survived as Lana broke up in mocking laughter.

“That Czevn, she vill do anysing to get her man!”

“Czevy?” The male voice from the door cause her to freeze and look up, then clamber off of Dallas, who was just as embarrassed as he got up, straightening his simple jacket-shirt and slacks.

“Vil’am!” Czevn got up, brushed herself off, pulling her skirt down as far as she could, considering its length. “Ve vere just talkink about you.” She gave him a big smile and walked over to hug him.

The young Ferengi looked at her oddly for a moment, then swung her up into his arms. “How’s my baby?” She giggled and he whispered in her ear and she whispered back, and suddenly he bolted out the door, still carrying her.

“Slut.” Svetlana pouted, drinking her daquiri.

“Jealous?” Chase set the last glass up on the shelf after drying it off, smirking.

“Of course not.” Svetlana turned shakily on her heel and stalked over to the jukebox.

Dallas retook his seat and grinned. “She’s jealous.”

Chase nodded. “I know.”

As they laughed softly together, a vortex opened in the middle of the lounge and Alex Erc and his wife Taryn stepped out.

“Hey Alex! Taryn!” Chase smiled. “How are the babies?”

Taryn ran fingers through her short, light brown cap of curls and smiled tiredly. “Keeping us up at night.”

Dallas nodded, not knowing them well other than as the son and daughter-in-law of Doc Shadi. He got himself another beer as Chase brought them drinks.

“Warm milk for the new mom and black coffee as always for dad.” She looked at them and winked. “Hope I get extra pay for Morale Officer.”

“Thanks, Chase.” Taryn nuzzled her husband. “I’d give anything for an hour of peace and quiet.”

Alex didn’t say much, his frosty blue eyes surveying the place in an age-old habit. In days past, at the birth of the Maquis, he’d been a different man, a cold, closed being known as Agent Alpha 1. He’d invented some of the most brilliant weapons and Technology of the Maquis, specializing in intelligence operations and sabotage, striking some of the most telling blows against the Empire. As the Maquis had become more secure in their place in the cosmos, he’d let down his guard slowly, becoming another man, one who could find love and a family. He’d channeled his vision into another project, the Time Corps, which had given him both inspiration and disappointment. He’d regained his powers as a changeling, and concentrated his efforts on raising his evergrowing family. He nodded to Dallas and Chase and drank his coffee, after assuring himself no threat existed there.

Chase nodded back and glanced at the clock. “Oh, Ri’ and Roj’ should be back from class. I’d better go see how their day went.” She clapped Dallas on the shoulder with a broad smile. “Come down later if you have nothing to do. The kids would love to see you.”

“Rightio.” Dallas smiled at her. “No worries, now, ma’am.” Chase smiled and left the lounge for her quarters.

Alex shifted in his chair so his wife could lean her head on his shoulder. “Jade was here earlier.”

“She was?” Taryn sipped her milk and relaxed into her husband’s strong grasp, closing her dark blue eyes. “Is she feeling better?”

“She didn’t remember the twins.”

Taryn sat up abruptly. “She what?”

“She brought sweaters for Julian and Jacob and said she found them around the house, and she guessed they must be for our boys since she didn’t have any that size. She looked very strange...even her voice sounded off tone.”

“That’s unreal. Did she get some medical help?” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you?”

“Me?” He squirmed slightly in his seat. “I talked with Shadi last night. She took some samples for Dr. Boring.”

Taryn nodded. “You must take care of yourself, love. I know you’ve been through so much, but you know the Time Corps rules - and dangers.” She cuddled close to her husband again. “I don’t want to lose you, Alex.”

“Nor do I, love.” He pulled her close, enjoying every second of their peaceful time together.

Dallas’ eyes flicked to the mirror and he watched them for a moment, then looked away. He’d never married...never settled down. As a younger man, he’d come close to marriage once - and left the woman at a train station as he panicked about being tied down. He’d moved on to a stint in the military that had taken him to Hades and back - and when he’d returned home, Maggie had gone away.

“And you found that leaving her was the right choice, eh, my boy?”

The mellifluous baritone near Dallas’ ear shocked him and he jumped back, just curbing an impulse to swing on him. “Q.”

Dr. Q McGann settled onto a stool and chuckled. “It’s such an advantage being able to come and go on a moment’s notice. I can’t believe I waited so long to become fully Q.”

Dallas grunted. “Haven’t you done enough to torment me?”

“Torment you? I only did what you wanted. You said you wanted a chance to go back and see what would have happened if you’d lived up to your obligations.” McGann snapped himself a scotch. “You saw -- the war would have come between you -- you’d have both ended up tortured and dead. So. You made the right choice.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Suzanne Taylor came in from her office and surveyed the situation. Nodding to Alex and Taryn, she moved past the other two and took her customary seat behind the bar counter, calling her computer console online. “Slow day in the Continuum, McGann?”

The Q smirked. “It’s all too predictable. Now here there’s always the stuff of human drama. Love--” He pointed to the Ercs. “Pathos.” He elbowed Dallas. “Now you...let me see, you today personify--” He stared at her a moment.

“Antagonism?” she interrupted dryly. The Q never failed to get on her nerves, even when she only had one left.

“Not at all!” he said, laughing. “I was going to say courage or valiant or something of the kind. “You’ve got an air about you like someone with a purpose, a woman who intends to get things done.”

Suzanne rolled her eyes. “MM-hmm. So perhaps you will let me get to it.” Her eyes slid to Dallas. “Good evening, Mr. Dallas. I take it you are continuing your sessions with Dr. Boring? He was most concerned about your behavior.”

Dallas glanced to his right as the Q hung on every word, and then back to Taylor. embarrassed to have the Q know his personal business. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded. “Good. We don’t intend to lose any more officers.”

“No, ma’am.” Dallas finished his beer, feeling like someone with no power between these two individuals. He much preferred his solitary work repairing the ships. He knew his own worth then, and completed his work quickly and well. Here, he was never sure of his place.

Suzanne punched up the daily logs, reading over all the memos she’d received. “Altogether not too bad a day.”

Dallas looked around, saw the Alex and Taryn were absorbed in each other, speaking softly, and he didn’t feel comfortable with either Taylor or the Q, so he slid off his stool. “Got some things to do, if you’ll excuse me, ma’am.”

Suzanne nodded absently and the Q just smiled a knowing smile. “When you least expect me, Dakota. I’ll be there.”

“Bloody hell you will,” Dallas muttered as he went out to the hangar bay.

McGann chuckled as the officer left, then glanced at himself in the mirror. He went to straighten a hair, then waved it off. “Perfect as always. Take care, Suzi.” He winked out.

Suzanne growled, wishing the omnipotent pain in the backside would find someone else to haunt. It’s Shadi, she thought in that irritated tone in which she’d contemplated Erc earlier. How she managed to stay married to that pompous self-righteous ... She shook her head. You had to wonder about Shadi’s taste in partners. You just did.

As she worked, she felt the presence of someone watching her, and looked up sharply, her eyes searching the room. Alex and Taryn were just leaving, hand in hand...and..I know I felt that. She frowned as she saw no one, and returned to the projections she was calculating for the next fiscal quarter.

Davin Aleshani twitched in his astral aspect as he saw the woman look up, knowing she could feel his presence, wan as it was from lack of sustenance. He was a being of energy, somewhat of an astral vampire, for lack of a better term. He traveled from place to place, dining on the energy put out by the emotions of other beings. Raising an invisible ghostly hand, he tasted the air for anything which might be appealing and found nothing. Usually this is the place to feed up for a week, he thought. Emotions running unconfined like wild horses on the open range. In his fully-nourished form, he was a rotund male, appearing humanoid for the most part, sandy hair curled close to his head and piercing hazel eyes hiding the lack of a soul. As he was at present, he could not even manifest a physical presence.

He watched the woman, felt at last a little flicker of cold fear and fed on that as best he could, drawing it from her as if he had a long narrow straw. It was thin and thready, but it was food.

Suzanne looked around again, still seeing nothing, and quietly moved to put the computer on intruder search mode. It swiftly found an area of disturbance. There...by the window... She returned her gaze to her work, and then glanced from the corner of her eye to the location of the intruder, catching only a vague shimmer, a slight distortion of the space which the intruder occupied. Her breath caught and she checked to make sure her weapon was under the counter as usual.

Aleshani gravitated away from the location he could see she knew he utilized, moving closer to her, as he guessed she would not anticipate such a move. As her apprehension grew, he managed to siphon off a little more of her anxiety, but it was not fulfilling. Where is the woman, the mother and her child...they produced such lovely full flavors... He sighed and moved on to another dimension.

As quickly as the being had appeared on her screen, he vanished. Raising an eyebrow, Suzanne looked around at the empty room, gathered her things and went to her office, trying to chase a chill from her back.

Rictor prowled the long dark halls of the main base at DragonFleet, trying to decide what track his leadership should take next. The long, lean years since he’d left the United Empire of Planets had hardened him into a man who needed no one, practically monastic in his tastes, though an occasional round of ale and dabo girls suited him quite well.

He was alone at the base now, a base designed to contain hundreds of officers and workers. They’d dwindled away while he’d concentrated on other objectives, one by one, sometimes in groups. The senior officers had stayed on the longest, his engineer, Gus, his protocol officer, Tasper and the volatile mercenary Estrella, a petite spitfire as likely to shoot anyone as greet them politely. She’d actually carried on the organization while he was away, gathering in a few more lost souls to man the halls, Sarah Morrigan, an Iowa-born farmgirl who’d taken a position as Captain, though she hadn’t Estrella’s spirit; Markail Bell, who’d lost his sanity somehow and launched a powerful terrorist move against the Maquis, and others. But Morrigan was the only one left. If she was still here.

Stalking down the hall to the control center, he pondered Morrigan’s behavior. The night before she had left the base, abandoned her post against direct orders. She’d had been whining about how she wasn’t needed and she wanted to find someplace she could be useful.... He’d never had to pet Estrella to make her do her job. Rictor punched the wall as he passed. I am Rictor! I need no one! I refuse to surround myself with the weak, the mindless! He snorted. If she wanted to leave, let it be so. He’d handle the vicious Maquis in his own way, on his own. Slamming into the control room, he allowed the thought of Estrella to creep into his mind for just a moment. The light that shone from her dark eyes, her lightning-sharp temper, the devotion for himself he knew was in her heart... He shoved the thought aside. She is safe now.

He reprogrammed the security codes, attempting to keep the creature whaich had infested the base out of his private plans. Fidgeting, he played with his scraggly black beard, trying to anticipate where the creature would strike next.

Yes, my friend, we may both want the extermination of the Maquis, but it must be done well, with flair and distinction...anyone can tear flesh from the bone, but to peel it slowly, layer by layer, as the prey remains alive....that is art. Rictor smiled eerily, and tossed an armband in the air, catching it.

Estrella crossed his mind again, and he gave her one thought: Soon, kechara, I will be able to come for you.

That business done, he left the control room and went to the ship docking bay, boarding the Bird of Prey he had ready at a command, and left the base in a blaze of glory.

The planting of tulips was a delicate operation which deserved the dedication of a botanist and the artistry of a landscape designer, Erc decided. Since he had neither, he just dug holes and dropped them in.

He sat back, orange-toned face to the sun, taking in the beauty of the outdoor scene around him. His land, as far as the eye could see, purchased early on from the EnigMaians before the Maquis base was even built. Yessirree, get in on the ground floor, he thought. Rules of Acquisition built a sound structure for life.

How many hours had he spent working his hands into this soil? He couldn’t count them any more. The noise of childish laughter drew his attention, and he smiled at his family, the fruit of his loins, playing chase in and out of the low slung trees. His sons, Mic’y and Wil’am, strong young bodies not hampered by their Q powers, were active gymnasts whipping over and under the branches, followed by Shadi’s son Chad, a changeling boy who delighted the younger twins, Zanna and Amanda, by morphing into different flora and fauna of the field. They were the perfect additions to this scene, the girls in white, the boys in blue, enjoying the quiet afternoon with not a care in their young worlds.

A glance at the porch showed him his wife was still on the swing, engrossed in some PADDs she’d brought home from the base, her hair soft around her face, the wind blowing it gently. She bit her bottom lip softly in concentration. He thought it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

How he’d managed to snag Komtok’s daughter was still amazing to him. Not that he hadn’t tried every Ferengi trick in the book and a couple of pages out of Komtok’s Klingon rules as well. What he’d gone through! He’d been beaten, stabbed, hunted, threatened... but he’d won her.

Nothing was perfect of course. As valuable as he found her, there seemed to be others who valued her as well. Her Q ex-husband McGann appeared from time to time, seeming to be unable to release her once and for all. Chad’s father Nick Winston had taken Shadi away from them once, as had several others, all past beaus seemingly obsessed with her. Some days it was almost more than he could take. What was his was his, and should stay that way. Other men didn’t have to fight every day of their life to keep what was theirs...did they?

He sighed, seeing how the sun highlighted Shadi’s hair, almost making her appear as if she had a halo. He smiled and went back to digging holes. The plantings had made the ranch a part of him. He’d tilled nearly every inch of it, some with crops, some with more decorative plants. To the east were the lilacs Shadi had begged him for. The tulips filled the front yard. To the west was a small rose bush... Looking at the blood-red flowers on the bush reminded him of the daughter it had been planted for, the one who was not with her brothers and sisters playing here. Anni had been taken from them as an infant by someone with a vendetta against Erc, someone who had sent the child’s murdered body to her mother in a delivery box... He shivered. How could anyone be so cruel.

The shock had nearly been the end of both of them. The pregnancy had been so difficult, Eugene Boring attending Shadi on nearly a daily basis to keep her from losing the child, and then to have her brief life end so tragically. It was both wonderful and chilling when Shadi found she was pregnant again -- while they wished they could celebrate, it was always with that nagging undervoice wondering if this baby would be one they could keep.

And as it had turned out, the twins were a joy. Amanda, outspoken and cocky for her year of age, Zanna, more a papa’s girl, shy and demure, but with a wicked sense of humor... the apples of his fatherly eye. As he looked back at them, he cringed as he saw Amanda fall off the tree branch, but she got back up and zinged her brother for pushing her. He smiled. Anyone who thinks they can take these girls away will have another think coming...

The sun was warm, warmer than he’d expected. He shrugged off his jacket and finished the row, thinking of taking a dip in the lazy bend of the river down the garden path when he was done. He’d built Shadi the treehouse she wanted in the seat of branches in a wide oak-like tree next to the slow-running stream, and they’d shared many an hour there alone, enjoying the cool water and each other.

[i’d love to, corazon...maybe when the children take a nap].

He looked up and Shadi was smiling gently, her work set aside as she reached for a cup she’d set on the floor. He blushed, caught, grateful once again one of Shadi’s adopted sons had given him the necklace which allowed him to communicate without speaking to his wife and family. Normally Ferengis were immune to telepathy, transmitting or receiving. But he had the power now to share her thoughts, as she could his. It only added to their bond, one which seemed born of a life of its own, something they’d been moving toward all their lives. [te amo], he thought.

[te amo.] She went inside to begin preparing the evening meal and Erc finished the row, cataloguing as he went the financial ventures he had on his plate at the moment. The Orion deal would be big...no, huge, if he could pull it off. But there was a certain amount of risk involved. The Ferengi smirked. “Risk...it’s my middle name!” he cackled.

It was what gave his blood the reason to pump through his veins, the new challenge of the new deal, the big one that was always waiting on the horizon, just out of reach, it seemed.

He laughed at his own pretensions. He’d been Grand Nagus, the highest leader of the Ferengi people. He’d been a pauper. He’d been everything inbetween. But no matter what his latinum reserves were, he knew he was rich beyond description. He had his home and his family, and these were valuables more precious than coin could ever buy.

Erc stood and called the children to him, in preparation for the dinner hour. They came to him, running and laughing, and tackled him, and they rolled on the ground in the fresh-dug dirt, and he thought if he died right then, he’d never have a happier moment.

It was several days later when Suzanne Taylor first knew there was real trouble waiting for the Maquis. Notice came in the form of a note attached to her door by a dagger with a sculpted handle which could only belong to Rictor.

Maquis scum, Your days breathing the air of this universe we share are limited. DragonFleet has risen on wings of fire to conquer the weak and undeserving possessors of the best resources the sector has to offer. You have crossed me for the last time. Prepare to die.

The note was signed in a large “R” which looked as if it had been drawn in blood. His? Suzanne wondered. She took the parchment down carefully, hoping the dagger itself wasn’t tainted in some way, and took both to Squall Leonheart for verification.

Squall looked up as the administrator came into his office and sat expressionlessly as she explained what she’d found. He read the note, then examined the dagger and shrugged. “Think he’s serious.”

Her emerald eyes flashed her annoyance. “Of course he’s serious. What are we going to do about it?”

“Go to war.” He got up and checked the weapons locker.

“Do we do anything else?” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, the only thing that betrayed the state of her nerves.

Squall looked at her. “Not lately.”

The Maquis administrator tightened her jaw and went to find someone with suggestions.

The lounge was empty, it being just past the midday break. The muted tones of the room were soothing when not disturbed by the raucous voices of those coming in for stress relief. Instead of taking her seat, she walked around the room, trying to clear her mind, concentrate on the problem at hand.

War in itself was not a problem for the Maquis. It seemed they’d been at war for the majority of their short existence. Supplies would be difficult, as they hadn’t found everything they needed in this new universe, but there were always solutions for that. The Bajoran who had wandered in unexpectedly that week, offering assistance in return for support against the Starfleet of that universe, who denied her people a vote in their own future. The spare, dark-haired woman had the usual nose ridges of a Bajoran, and a hardness to her eyes born of the discipline of survivors of the Cardassian occupation. Her name was Elissa Taru, and she had shared with Taylor that she had been a Major in charge of a Special Ops engineering Detail under the Bajoran Militia. Her attention to the correct way to address a superior was most refreshing, Suzanne noted.

She paused in thought in front of the window, offering a half-hearted prayer to the Prophets of Bajor for her people’s safety. If she could say she was spiritual at all, it was in the study of the Prophets, something she had connected with in the time of her assignment on Bajor. The presence of the spiritual beings gave her a sense of peace she had not known before. Even here, she could tap into the peace every once in awhile--

The door to the hangar bay burst open as Dakota Dallas and Peyton Barnes came in at a run. They both went to the bar, Barnes pouring them both a cold beer while Dallas read through the latest posted Maquis memos. “There, mate! See I told you. Rictor’s declared war.”

“Unbelievable. We’ll massacre them.” Barnes shrugged broad shoulders. “How many are left? Rictor and who else?”

Dallas frowned. “Sarah Morrigan, last I knew. But Estrella can’t be gone permanently...”

Suzanne moved at last, walking over to the replicator for some tea. “I believe that is a wise deduction, Dallas. I would never count her out. She and Rictor have some strange bond which makes me think whatever he’s done with her....we shall see her again.” She sipped the tea and looked at the two men. “And Bell?”

Barnes’ blue eyes were speculative. “He crashed his ship in pursuit the night we were over there in that maze. We barely got out - I saw the ship go down.”

“Then we’ll count him out for now. “ Suzanne pulled out her reconnaissance maps and laid them on the counter where the three could examine them. “From all your reports, Kairal was able to reconstruct the layout of the main DF base.” She pointed to the several open areas obviously used for the landing and storage of ships. “This is the landing bay that Bell crashed into, shutting it off. That leaves these two areas, which have had no activity for three days, except for the departure of a Klingon Bird of Prey, with one person aboard. No life forms have been detected since.”

“Bloody amazing.” Dallas stood, looking at the drawing, trying to jibe it with what he remembered in his head from his visit to DF. “Maybe Rictor turned tail and ran.”

Barnes shook his head, leaning forward on both elbows. “Not his style, Dakota. Probably went looking for reinforcements.”

Suzanne nodded. “A reasonable assumption.” Movement at the door caught her eye and she smiled as Piper Donovan came in. In appearance, she was a shadow of her mother, with her hair a shade more auburn, her eyes a lighter green, and a more delicate frame inherited from her father’s genes. But her temperament came from the years she spent with her father Cyris at the cargo way station, dealing with the rough traders who passed through. She had a sharp tongue and a quicker trigger finger. Suzanne found her a great asset. “Afternoon, Piper.”

Piper smiled. “Mom.” She turned to the two men and greeted them as well. “What’s that you’re looking at?”

“Map of Rictor’s Happy Hideaway,” Barnes quipped.

Suzanne looked at Barnes unhappily. “We can joke now....but I have a feeling it won’t be long till it’s very serious indeed.” She turned to Piper. “We’ll need more patrols, some long range, until we can verify where Rictor has gone and whether he’s coming back this way.”

Piper cocked her head. “Maybe he went to get Estrella.”

“Then we’re all going to hell in a handbasket.” Dallas took a long swig of his beer. “Cause if I know that little sheila she’ll be bloody ticked off.”

Barnes snorted. “Got that right, bro.”

“I’ll organize the patrol schedule, Mom. Don’t worry about it.” Piper moved closer to Suzanne and said more softly, “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You know you weren’t supposed to leave sickbay.” She hesitated to touch Taylor, still unsure how close her mother wanted her to be. It had been a rediscovery for both of them. Piper’s father had told her Suzanne was dead; Suzanne had explained it was that she was married to her career instead. When Cyris first took the child to be with him, Suzanne had never anticipated how it would be easy to drift apart...then he had taken Piper and gone. It wasn’t till she was full grown that she had found her way back to her mother... and the Maquis.

“I’m fine,” Suzanne snapped. She moved back to her seat and engaged the computer, checking the base sensor net. Nothing within regular sensor range; that was a blessing at least.

Piper smiled and get some coffee, knowing the gruff exterior her mother affected didn’t always accurately reflect her true feelings. Suzanne hardly ever showed her true self, Piper had discovered. The career professional, she’d worked hard to sublimate so much. Piper sighed, watching her mother at work. The one time Piper had really seen her open up was when she and StarFleet Universal’s Admiral Charles Damark had opened a liaison. Suzanne had seemed more relaxed and happy then than she ever had before. But that relationship had ended abruptly, and badly, shortly before Taylor had been the subject of Turane’s obsession. Which had had its own bad end.

Damark’s reappearance in the recent skirmishes between SFU and MU had proven to be anti-climactic. While Kairal N’Tori had been convinced that Suzanne Taylor’s reappearance as the head of the group would swiftly put an end to hostilities, that had not proven to be the case. Contrarily, Damark had hardly acknowledged Taylor’s existence, which only added to the personal animosity.

The brief “war”, declared because Damark’s daughter Arabella St. James named the luckless Dakota Dallas as the father of her illegitimate child (while knowing full well the father was one of her father’s officers), had only one real casualty: Julian McKinley. The rest wrung itself out in brief armed encounters and a lot of genetic test work. After Julian’s death, people on both sides found a little less heart for the battle.

In the meantime... Piper looked over the shoulders of Dallas and Barnes, wondering if her mother could find happiness again. Or whether she would herself, having lost her husband Todd Albertson in a freak accident while they both spent time with SFU. It would take some time for her grieving to end. But it would. And dealing with Rictor was a challenge that fired Piper’s blood. The two of them had already exchanged words and blows....it was only a matter of time before there would be a rematch. Rictor had promised to see Piper’s head on a pole. Piper’s eyes sparkled as she envisioned quite a different end to their next encounter.

“You guys up for a patrol?” Piper asked them.

Dallas nodded. “The Whirlwind needs a run anyway. Something in the left thruster isn’t quite right...a whine in it. I’m game.” He grinned.

“The Earnhardt is at your service, ma’am.” Barnes gave a thumbs up and the three headed for the hangar bay. Suzanne watched them go, silently wishing them well. She buried herself in her customary pile of work, figuring the numbers of supplies they’d need.

She sighed as she read over the final results. “We’ll never be able to come up with so many new suppliers.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Taylor.” Erc had come in the door, a gaudy gold threaded Ferengi jacket nearly blinding her as she looked up. “I’ve got the supply problems licked.” He put his hands on his hips and smirked.

Suzanne rolled her eyes. “When I see the supplies, I’ll believe you.”

He broke the pose and walked over to her, leaning on the counter in front of her. Being taller than the normal Ferengi by a few inches, he could at least see her over the top. “Believe it. This time I’ve got the right connections. And there’s enough profit to go around.” He winked broadly. “We can buy in bulk and resell half what we get to someone else.” He got a crafty look. “To Dragonfleet. We’ll take the best of everything and sell them the secondrate stuff. Whattaya think?”

She looked him in the beady eye, speaking slowly for emphasis. “When I see the supplies, I’ll believe you.”

“Hmmph. Well fine. Maybe I’ll make Rictor the same deal. He’ll pay me what I’m worth.” He stomped to the replicator in a fit of pique.

She watched him and raised an eyebrow. “Rictor might pay three strips of latinum for your dead body.”

The Ferengi thought about that a minute. “It’s worth more than that.”

Suzanne shook her head. He just doesn’t get it.

Erc got some beetle tea and sat down at a table to check his investments on the handheld monitor he carried. He hmmed and groaned and made small cheering noises as he went through the daily list on both the Ferengi and Starfleet exchanges. Finally he began to chortle. “I warned him. I warned him....Quark will be sorry he dumped that one. I’ve made a killing.” He practically danced in his seat.

Shadi Erc came in and smiled at her husband’s excitement. “Win the lottery, corazon?” She got some coffee and greeted Suzanne with a smile of support. “I have to tell you, I never would have expected Rictor to stoop so low. I’d thought we were allies all along...and didn’t you and he just renew our affiliation?”

Suzanne nodded. “Apparently his diplomacy is from your father’s school.”

Shadi’s face darkened. “Apparently.” The doctor walked over to see what was making Erc so happy. She slipped an arm around his shoulders and watched him punch in numbers and chuckle madly. “You’ve done well, I take it?”

“And Quark has lost his shirt!” He broke out in rowdy laughter, pounding on the table.

“Well that makes all the difference.” She smiled indulgently and settled into a chair across from him with her coffee and some journals and reread the sections on combat medicine. With a sigh, she knew that any action they got from Rictor would be three times as bloody as anything SFU could have laid on them. Their doctors would have to be in top shape to save any wounded Maquis. If Rictor intended on using creatures like the lizard that had attacked Taylor and Piper the other night...no telling how much damage they would inflict....48 hours for each recovery. He could wipe out their fighting force in a matter of days.

With Mason gone, that left herself and Boring as regular staff doctors. Mora would fill in from time to time, if she was well. Maybe that Ferengi nurse could fill in....the one who claimed Wil was his family name. He certainly showed enough skill to handle emergencies on his own. She’d talk to Eugene about it. After all, she’d stepped down as Chief of Medicine and handed the rank and the responsibility over to her old friend. “I’m not sure I did him a favor,” she remarked softly.

Shadi was startled as one chair at the next table suddenly seemed to melt and then reformed as Mel Stewartson, her adopted brother. Mel had been a science project of her foster father’s back on Terra at the time she had been placed with the Stewartson’s for protection. He’d happily taken on the job of big brother, and the two of them had shared many years as the Stewartsons’ children, until the accident.

Mel had been caught in a flash flood and washed away down a sewer, disappearing for nearly 20 years. He’d returned oppportunely and helped Shadi through a difficult emotional time after the breakup of her marriage to Jason McGann, and then disappeared again when he became frozen in the form of a meteor trying to save her from the machinations of an obsessed Klingon Admirer, K’taqtar. Recently he’d thawed and come looking for her again, quite pleased that his nephew Chaddie was also a shapeshifter. He taught the boy extensively about his talents, which pleased Shadi to no end, as she hadn’t a clue.

“Hello, Mel.” She smiled. “New shape?”

He nodded, morphing into his human form, towering over Erc at six feet three. He’d affected the same red hair as Nightshade and was built strong and firm -- at least to outward appearances. “Hi, Ears.”

Erc glanced up from his screen, only tolerating the nickname. He and Mel had not hit it off from the beginning, Mel having returned nearly a year after he and Shadi had been married. It was hard for Mel to accept that it had all been done without him; and hard for Erc to welcome another interfering relative. “Mel. You ought to take that show on the road. The Magical Disappearing Chair.” He smirked.

Shadi kicked Erc under the table. “Stop that.”

“Ow!” Erc rubbed his leg.

Mel patted Erc’s bald head. “Nice brother.”

Erc grunted and packed up his monitor. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned to Shadi and bent down to give her a kiss. “I’ve got a short run to make.” He spoke loud enough his voice would carry. “Supply run.”

“All right, corazon. Be careful.” She touched his cheek softly and looked deep into his eyes. “I worry about you.”

Erc was watching Taylor for a reaction. “I know.”

Taylor looked up and smirked. “When I see them.”

Erc growled and stalked out, leaving Mel and Shadi both looking at Taylor curiously. When Shadi turned to look at Mel again, he was gone, but there was an extra chair at their table. She laughed. “You’re really taken with that, aren’t you?”

The chair grew a Mel-shaped head out of its seat. “It is good for reconnaissance.There are chairs everywhere.” He smiled. “But I have other areas to examine. It was good to see you, Spot.” He morphed into molecules and disappeared into the nearest air vent.

Shadi looked after him and then caught Taylor’s eye on her. Imagining several possibilities for Taylor’s next comment, she hurried to return to her reading, cutting her off.

Suzanne raised an eyebrow at the exchange, then returned to her own work. She hadn’t been introduced to Shadi’s changeling brother yet, though she guessed he could be pressed into the war effort when it became necessary. That ability to imitate common objects could be quite useful in gathering information.

“Good day one and all!” Han Solo strolled through the door, following closely by Shadi’s sister Samantha Carter. “Hello, Nightshade.” He gave the doctor a smile and glanced at Taylor, giving her a polite nod.

“Hello, Suzanne,” Samantha added softly. She and Suzanne shared a history with Charles Damark, one earlier, one later, so they had exchanged confidences and shared an odd sort of bond. “Hey, Shadi.” The willowy blonde crossed the room gracefully and gave her sister a hug.

“Hey Sam, Han...” Shadi hugged her scientist sister, wondering how long she’d stay this time. Samantha had left them once for StarFleet Universal, then returned very recently to Maquis space with Solo. A quick glance at Han showed that he and Sam were very close now, as he moved in a way which showed he was out to protect her. Shadi smiled at the thought. Her sister had a quick tongue and fast reflexes; but if anyone was in a position to defend himself against such, it would be the wisecracking Corellian mercenary with the easy smile and the Casanova ways.

Solo snagged two ales from the counter and slid into a chair at Shadi’s table. “What’s up?”

“We’re trying to find out what Rictor’s up to, I guess.” Shadi explained the note Rictor had left and then the odd vacancy of the DragonFleet base.

Han took a drink of his ale and frowned. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Shadi agreed silently. After a moment, she asked Sam, “What are your plans?”

Samantha shrugged. “I don’t really have anything firm at the moment. I destroyed the labs back at SFU so no one could use my technology against you. I guess I’ll have to find someplace to work again, when I can get time off from the Tok’ra.” She smiled at Han. “And other things.”

Solo peeked over his shoulder. “It safe to talk to Taylor today? I could offer some help-- but I don’t need her biting my head off.”

“Who knows?” Shadi smiled.

He smirked. “Guess you’re right.” He got up and straightened his shirt, prepared to go approach the Maquis administrator.

The Karma’s Revenge, Whirlwind and the Earnhardt flew parallel courses out into the area of space beyond the Dragonfleet base, scouting for any bits of information to take back to MU with them. So far all they had to report was that they’d found nothing. No one at the base, no mines left in space, no automatic nukes alerted by sensor senders. Nothing.

“That’s the damndest thing I’ve ever seen,” Barnes said. His face in the viewscreen was troubled as he ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Who declares war and then goes out to lunch?”

“All sorts of bangers out there in the uni, Barnesie. Leave it to Doc Boring to figure them out. We just gotta do what we can.” Dallas shifted his compact frame in the pilot’s seat. “Three hours out. How long we gonna look, ma’am?”

Piper adjusted her headset and surveyed her console. It seemed to be a waste of time to keep gathering information if there was none. But a sixth sense just told here there was something to find...if she’d just look for the right thing. “No Bird of Prey warp signature?No tachyon trails...loose chronotons?”

“No, ma’am.” Dallas was matter-of-fact and not impatient. “We’ve not finished scanning the whole sector yet, ma’am. Sure wish we knew what he’d gone for --it would make the looking much easier.”

Piper shook her head. “No clue. Any signs of life out here? We’ll do the whole--whole--Holy Moley! What’s that?” She pointed at her sensor readings, not thinking till a moment later they couldn’t see the spike a flash of energy consumption had left on her scans.

“What?” Barnes activated his detection system and picked up the same sign. “Someone’s just lifted off.” He did a directional scan. “Two parsecs, H quadrant.”

Piper nodded. “Let’s go.”

The three ships slid into formation, Piper taking point and the others just behind. Moving as one entity, they pursued the only trace of life they’d found. As they approached the bogie, an ion trail became more evident to the sensors. Barnes identified it first. “Bingo! A Bird of Prey.”

Piper nodded. “All right, stay cool, stay cool.” At the same time, she was raising her airspeed and moving into strong pursuit mode. Let’s see who’ll have whose head on a pike... “Dallas, left flank, Barnes, right. Execute on my mark. “ She watched her screen. “Three, two one...mark.”

The other two split off at identical angles, spreading out to come at the bogie from the sides. Piper focused on coming up behind the huge ship, her tiny one dwarfed by its wingspread. As they came within sensor range, she saw the ship release dozens of mines in their path. “Damn! Evasive! Everyone watch out!” She swung wide to miss the ones which drifted into her path, picking up another on her viewer just as it clipped the front edge of her wing. She could see out the front viewer the others were picking the mines off with phasor fire, and she kicked her weapons online. There was the occasional one that got through, but they seemed to be low level mines...more for deterrence factor than damage. They pressed on toward their target. Dallas was the first to rake the Bird of Prey with torpedo fire, coming in lowand hot from starboard. The Bird of Prey blasted back with a full phasor array which nearly fried his shields. “I’m out!” he called, voice tight over the comm. The Whirlwind spun away and up, avoiding further fire.

Piper took the initiative and followed up in the opposite direction from the one Dallas used to escape, staying a little farther out to avoid phasor range. Holding the ship under tight control, she swooped in a wide arc, firing at places she hoped were at odd places in the shield structure, looking for an opening. Her proximity alarm sounded as the Bird of Prey launched two torpedos at close range, both of which hit her simultaneously. The Karma’s Revenge went into a dizzying flat spin away from the larger ship. Piper held onto the controls for dear life, trying to keep her head - and her stomach - focused. She could hear the voices of the others coming over the comm but everything was going so fast...so fast... She felt herself blacking out and fought like hell to hang on.

Finally the stick loosened in her hand and she was able to right the ship. Light-headed and nauseous, she turned the Revenge around and headed back into the fight. Dallas and Barnes were attacking from opposite sides, she could see from this distance, and there were pinpoint bursts of explosions on the hull of the Klingon ship as well as theirs. Piper frowned. “We’re not getting anywhere.” She hailed the others.

“Donovan to Barnes and Dallas, break off attack! Break off--” The transmission was interrupted suddenly by a viewscreen picture of Rictor, smiling coldly from his bridge.

“Oh that would be wise, my dear Maquis. Because I’m not ready to kill you yet. I have something much better planned for you.” He laughed in a way that left a chill down her spine.

She clenched her teeth and took a breath. “Stop interfering with my comm.” She switched him off and hailed the others again. They spun off in opposite directions and met up with her. The Bird of Prey gave no pursuit, and Piper imagined she could hear Rictor’s mocking cackle all the way back to Maquis space.

Solo approached Suzanne Taylor, a charming grin playing around his lips. “You know, I could be of some use to you if you’d only let me.”

“Your personal attentions are not something I need, Captain.” Suzanne didn’t even look up from her computer screen.

He made a face out of her line of sight and leaned on the counter. “I mean as far as DragonFleet is concerned. I could do some scouting for you.”

The Maquis administrator shrugged. “Piper took Dallas and Barnes out to do that. They should be returning by 1700 hours. Maybe you could compare notes.”

Disappointed, he nodded. “Yeah, maybe we’ll do that. Keep me in mind for the dangerous assignments, will you? I’ve got a lot more experience than some of these yahoos round here.”

She looked him in the eye, her emerald eyes hard. “All bets are off when it comes to war, Captain. Experience is no match for preparedness and lots of information.”

He laughed softly. “If you say so.” He shook his head and walked back over to join Shadi and Samantha. “Stubborn as an Ebbian narheel.”

Samantha cocked her head and looked at Taylor. “She’s a strong woman, Han. It’s just her style.” She smiled. “I admire it.”

Vincent came in, pushing a baby carrier and caught Shadi’s eye. Shadi excused herself and went over to see the baby who peeked from the folds of a soft blanket.

“Hi, Karina,” she said. touching the baby’s cheek soft;y. She examined what she could see of the child and the sparkle in her eye reassured her Vincent was doing a fine job as a single father. Especially since Adekka was gone, it was a blessing things had turned out so well.

“She looks okay, doesn’t she?” Vincent was tentative but proud.

The doctor nodded. “Oh yes. She’s looking great.” She patted him on the shoulder and went back to say goodbye to the others. “I’ve got a duty shift. Hopefully we’ll get a new doctor soon.” She hugged Sam and smiled at Han. “I’ll see you later.”

She passed Kairal N’Tori on the way out, smiling and exchanging cheerful greetings. She continued down the hall, her softsoled shoes barely scuffing on the grey carpet, to sickbay, which was to her surprise, empty. Mora must have finally gone home. She smiled, happy for her long time friend and went to check on the status of her experiments.

These days, long periods of time in the medlab reminded her of the time she’d spent with Nick Winston and she found it impossible to stay there. But in addition to the antivenin she’d developed and was perfecting, she’d found several herb-based medicines which had proved useful to the Maquis. The change in career from legal to medical hadn’t been an easy one...but she was enjoying the new one as well. She hummed an odd tune as she began checking her notes.

Kairal N’Tori continued into the lounge and stood near Taylor, waiting for her to take notice. The others in the room penetrated her awareness, but she stayed focused on her reason for being here. The tall, dark-haired woman had many interests, the promotion and survival of the Maquis one of the major ones. But her serious pursuit of science took her to alternate dimensions just as often as this one; and hiding from angry relatives in the plane back home kept her moving, more often than she’d like.

Suzanne looked up, finally, the silent but powerful presence catching her attention. She smiled slightly. “Kairal?”

The smile was returned and the Technical Director laid a stack of flimsies on the counter. “Specs for the upgrades. “

Suzanne nodded. “Thanks. We should be getting equipment soon. Erc actualy came through with a shipment of some use the other day.”

“Rictor still planning his nefarious business?” Kairal smirked a little. These humans took their lives so seriously. It was impossible for any of them to comprehend life as I know it. Kairal crossed time and space as easily as others crossed the street. She preferred to spend most of her time in one timeline, just so life would make a little more sense to her.

“As far as I know. Piper said he seems most determined.” Suzanne didn’t say more, though Piper had given her a full report. Suzanne had passed on a report to Chase and Kairal, too, as senior staff, so she knew they were aware. It was just a matter of guessing when...and what the damage would be.

“I see Alex has provided you with a new subspacial weapon.”

“It’s quite promising. I’ll let everyone have a crack at it once the bugs are out.”

Kairal’s eyes glowed. “It’s so exciting to have something new.”

Suzanne smiled. “All you scientists are alike. It’s all about toys.”

“Not all.” The Technical Director grinned her grin pertly, then headed back out to check the perimeter.

Taylor shook her head and glanced up at the others. Some produced; others didn’t. Some were better in a fight; others prefered the background. But they all formed the Maquis...and it would be hard to survive, one without the other.

Dakota Dallas left the others at the hangar bay and wandered wearily into the lounge. Bloody arrogant S.O.B., he thought. “Bet Rictor thought it was a holiday or somethin’. Three Maquis, no waiting.” He put his head down on the counter with a sigh, not even bothering to get a beer first. What a bleedin circus...

“Dally?”

Dakota lifted his head from the counter and turned slowly, though he didn’t have to. He knew who it was, he’d heard that voice over and over in his dreams, savoring every intonation and expression. “Dekka.” His face slowly broke into a smile.

She came to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He just held her silently, trying to reassure himself by the touch and the feel of the warm, soft body in his arms that it wasn’t a mirage. After a few minutes of quiet communion, he held her back from him and looked into her dark eyes, seeing hidden pain there. “Where have you been? I was so worried! Why couldn’t you get a message to me somehow?”

Adekka sighed and looked down, picking imaginary lint off her dark jacket. “I couldn’t. I... got into some trouble.” She could feel him bristle and tried to downplay it. “I’m fine, Dally, I’m fine.” Nothing remained of the bruises anyway...and Isard had healed the broken bones, in anticipation of breaking them again. It was her twisted way. She sighed. “What really hurt was being kept from you.”

He kept hold of her hand and drew her over to sit beside him. “Do you want something? Some... coffee?” He smiled, knowing the question was rhetorical.

“That would be nice.” She drank up his presence with every pore of her body, watching his smooth movements as he poured and brought her a black cup of coffee as if it were the most expensive champagne in the galaxy. Smiling, she thanked him and tried to relax into her seat. “So, have I missed anything?”

He laughed. “Bloody right you did.” He gave her a light-hearted version of what they had been through at the hands of Dragonfleet, protecting her from the worst of it. What was the point? He studied her as she listened, noting the little movements she made to avoid sitting just so, a wince, quickly covered as she moved her arm. She’d obviously been through a little hell herself.

“So there’s some genetically altered mutant lizard wandering around with a half-lizard girl thinking Shadi’s her mother?” She smiled. “I mean, I know Shadi seems to find it necessary to mother everybody...but a lizard girl?”

Dallas shook his head. “You should have seen her the first night she found out. She nearly drank herself into a coma.”

Adekka nodded. “It would be frightening.” She thought with a touch of sadness of her own child, nearly 8 months old now, in the custody of her former husband. Shadi had taken the child in to care for her while Adekka took care of some nasty business she wanted Karina protected from.. “Have you seen Vincent? Or Karina?”

Dallas shook his head. “I know Vincent’s been here from time to time. But he avoids me.” He looked at her solemnly and she nodded.

“He would. He was never good at confrontation.” Whereas I am much too good at it. She kept her sarcastic comment to herself, knowing it was true.

“I have no beef with him. Whatever you had with him - it had to be over before I came along.” He shrugged. “The Maquis need all the help they can get. He’s a good man. I hope he stays around.”

“Has Taylor been a good leader through all this?” Adekka smiled at the memory of herself and Wil’am Erc using the Time Corps vortexes to slip back in time and grab the Maquis Administrator before the bomb exploded which killed her in the original timeline, substituting the madman Turane in her place. It seemed only just.

Dallas nodded grudgingly. “Got no problems with her. She’s bloody blunt sometimes, but she gets the job done. I’ve been working closely with her since the trouble with DF to come up with a defense plan.”

“So you’ve finally settled in.” It had been one of her biggest fears, the whole time she’d been gone, that she’d come back to find he’d moved on, someplace where she couldn’t find him. Dakota Dallas had gone through a hard time adjusting to being part of the Maquis team, after being a loner for so long. And his first several weeks having opened up some very bad memories for him, what with the Q showing him Maggie Lee again and then being held by both Maquis and Dragonfleet forces behind bars, one of his deepest fears... All humility aside, she’d known that her presence calmed and reassured him. Her absence could have demoralized him beyond all hope of recovery. Well, he’ll have to learn to deal with my headstrong nature– if he intends to stay with me for very long.

“Guess I have. At least I’m finding places I can be useful. Something always broke round here, y’know, and Barnesie in and out.”

“In and out?”

“Yeah, Taylor put a bee up his bonnet and he walked out. Then he was hanging around with that Solo bloke. But Taylor sweettalked him into coming back. He’s just not around as often as he used to be.”

“But I’m here now.” Peyton Barnes stood in the doorway, smiling like a Cheshire Cat. “When’d you get back, Adekka?” He came into the room and paused to give her a hug,.

“Last night, late. I just slept in Corusca’s ship. It was easier than finding someone to check me in.” She smiled and hugged him. “What you been up to? I hear you and my buddy Han Solo have had some adventures.” What she didn’t add was that she’d heard Imperial scuttlebutt as well about Solo’s activities and knew they would come down on him soon. She’d save that news for Han himself. Barnes laughed. “Oh, yeah, we’ve been busy all right.”

Dallas winked. “Barnesie’s been busy in the female department too.” He elbowed Barnes and tapped them both a brew.

Adekka raised a delicate eyebrow. “Oh?”

Barnes colored a little. “Well, ah, Svetlana and I--“

”Lana? You and Lana?” She hugged him. “That’s great!”

“Well, Lana’s been a little at loose ends since Czevn and that nurse hooked up. So.” He shrugged, looking very pleased with himself. He took the glass of amber-colored liquid and nodded thanks to Dallas.

Adekka nodded. “Sounds perfect to me.” She drank from the cooling cup of coffee, feeling safe and relaxed for the first time in a long time.

“You’ll be staying, won’t you, Dekka?” Dallas’ voice was a little plaintive, and realizing it, he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “I mean, I’ll ask Taylor for some quarters for you if that’s the case.”

She nodded. “Sure. Sure, I’ll be staying a long time.” She looked into his eyes and saw his soul smile.

Suzanne Taylor adjusted her sensors, then settled back into the pilot’s seat of the MSS Galena, stretching her shoulders wearily. She’d been on patrol for four hours now, on a private mission to locate the one woman who would be able to cut the heart out of the Dragonfleet attack. The search was proving more tedious than she’d thought, even with Kairal N’Tori’s analysis and assistance, and Dakota Dallas running interference. Estrella, wherever she was, didn’t appear to want to be found.

The other possibility was, of course, that Markail Bell was keeping her from being located. Mora and Shadi had reported that the pregnant DF mercenary had been spirited away against medical orders by Bell, who had proved himself to be a psychotic and sadistic adversary of the Maquis. Estrella had been in no condition to leave the Maquis base, but was taken by Bell with the explanation he would secure other medical assistance for her. By the doctors’ calculations, Estrella was due any day, and to deliver twins in some strange locale with perhaps no medical assistance... Bell must be out of his mind to think he could get away with it...

Which of course he was.

Suzanne pondered the rumors she’d heard that Bell was somehow related to the lizard which had attacked her, the one who had accompanied the mutant child who claimed to be Nightshade’s daughter. Shadi’s report on the matter had indicated she believed Nick Winston was at the bottom of the mutations. If Bell and Winston were working together... Suzanne raised an eyebrow. Could it be that the children carried by Estrella were mutants as well? And if they were... was Winston trying to breed a race genetically programmed to wipe out the Maquis?

The thought was sobering.

It was another reason why Suzanne was out here, against all the advice of her subordinates, rolling the dice in a last hope to get a chink in Rictor’s armor. Estrella knew everything there was to know about DF’s defenses and strengths. If she were really as disillusioned as Mora reported with Rictor, it would be possible to turn her knowledge to the Maquis advantage. If only it were handled right...

Suzanne set the sensors to alert her when and if a DF signature appeared, and leaned back with her eyes closed for a short period of rest.

Piper Donovan was livid when she heard Suzanne had gone.

“She what?” The young woman’s eyes blazed with green fire. “How could she go alone? I’m going after her.”

Dakota Dallas looked around for Leonheart or someone to back him up and saw only Dr. Boring and Jordan Alexander in the lounge. “I’m sorry, Piper, ma’am, I can’t let you do that.”

She snorted. “You can’t stop me.” She headed for the door.

“I can, under Ms. Taylor’s orders.” Piper turned to see him with a phasor in hand, pointed at her. “She told me strictly that you were not to leave the base after her, and if you did, that I’d be singing soprano, if you catch my drift, ma’am.”

“Nonsense! I’m going--” Piper reached for her own weapon and was hit with a stun beam before she could get it out of the holster.

Dallas sighed and walked over to her, pocketing the weapon. “I really didn’t want to do that.” Boring chuckled and came over with a medkit. “You did exactly right, my boy. Taylor would be proud.” He administered some anti-shock meds and rifled through Piper’s pockets, just out of habit.

“Doc.” Dallas frowned.

The Ferengi stood up and brushed off his jacket. “Just making sure she doesn’t have any hidden weapons. It’s for your protection, Dallas!”

“Right.” Dakota rolled his eyes. “I’ll take her down to her quarters now.”

Boring returned to his table and winked at Jordan. “Pays to stay alert, eh?”

Jordan shrugged. “I suppose.” He sighed and looked at the PADD in front of him. “You haven’t seen my...mother, have you?”

“Shadi?” Boring shook his head. “Not since yesterday. She should be in soon.” He checked his watch. “Tee time in 20 minutes.” He mimed using a golf club.

The young man nodded absently, thinking instead of the reason he’d returned to MU, and the mixed feelings he had for his employers, Trowa and Quatre Winner-Barton. They seemed to have their own agenda, and though he was just a clone of the original Jordan Alexander (the eighth now, he thought wryly), he still felt something for the woman who had taken the original Jordan in and nurtured him, unlike Lyta Alexander, the renegade Psi Corps officer who’d birthed him and then dedicated him to the service of the Corps. The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father....the rhetoric still ran through his head when he wasn’t 100% on guard against it.

He was ostensibly here to establish trade relations, and he’d talked to the Maquis administrator on several occasions about contracts. They had in fact come to terms on some service procurements, and Jordan was still arranging the security measures and personnel. With the war with Dragonfleet at hand, Suzanne Taylor wasn’t taking any chances. But still...he felt there was some hidden agenda from Winner-Barton, Inc. It made him uneasy.

A vortex opened in the middle of the lounge and Alex Erc came striding out, his dark garb reminding Jordan of the Psi Corps uniform. Alex surveyed the room, and nodded to Boring and Jordan, then went to the replicator for some black coffee.

Boring gathered up his things, then approached Alex from behind, scanning him. “I see the experimental medications have slowed down your cellular regeneration.”

Alex shrugged. “You tell me.”

Irritated, Boring barked, “I just did!”

Alex smirked and looked at his adopted brother, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Does that mean I can stop taking the shots?”

“Yes, but tell your wife to continue to bring the twins in for regular checks. Can’t have them mutating because you don’t know when to stop gallivanting around the timelines.” The doctor humphed and stalked out of the room, as well as a Ferengi could do.

Jordan leaned back and smirked, as most tended to do around Alex. “Ferengi. Tempers as short as their private parts.”

Alex acknowledged the joke with a nod and sat down at his corner table, back to the wall, cold blue gaze watching the room.

“You enjoying fatherhood?” Jordan asked in an attempt to start conversation. He and Alex had never been close, though as the child Chad, there had been more interaction.

Alex nodded. “It has its rewards.”

Jordan fidgeted through the long silence that followed. “If Shadi comes in, tell her I’ve been looking for her, all right?”

“Sure.” Alex went back to concentrating on the far wall and Jordan sighed, leaving his PADD on the table as he went to take a walk.

Alex relaxed as he was left alone, feeling safer that way. He could think. He could breathe. With a long sigh, he continued looking at the wall, allowing his focus to wander. There were several projects on his mental back burner, some for Taylor in the war effort, others just experiments he’d been kicking around. Time Corps nearly ran by itself these days, controlled from the future by his granddaughter Amanda, so he had nothing more to do than an occasional cleanup mission. Alex really preferred spending time with his wife Taryn and the children. In another day and age, he would have wanted to be the suburban husband, complete with lawnmower and hammock, providing a home for his family and being their own private hero.

But these were not those times.

Nothing was predictable any more. From the earliest days when they’d left the United Empire of Planets, he’d known what to expect. But as the Maquis had evolved, things had spun out of normal projected paths as calculated by all his fancy computers. His agents had gradually drifted away or changed. Taylor had been an agentonce, unknown to anyone, after she’d been altered in an accident shortly after the inception of MU. An alien race had captured her, removed her arms and legs and made her into a mechanical thing. Alex, as AA1, had rescued her, cloned her missing parts and kept her as his own creature, sending her on missions until she recovered her confidence and then gradually returning her to her place.

He’d projected ongoing struggles with the UEP, which had eventually been rendered harmless by a bold plan joined by several countergroups when the Maquis led a shift into an alternate universe, placing a near-impassable distance between the UEP and the rest. It had been eminently successful, thanks to cooperation at a level which had not been seen again. Ships from Starfleet Universal and Dragonfleet had joined the Exodus; within a year after the move, both entities had carried on war against the Maquis.

Hard to tell who was an friend and who an enemy any more.

He pursed his lips and waited for someone interesting to come in.

---

MU History:Story Part 2
MU History:Story Part 3