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-<wrap lo>[[:archives|Episode List]] • [[archives:season1|Season 1]] • [[archives:season2|Season 2]]</wrap>
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 <BOOKMARK:Chapter21>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 21: Legal Maneuvers**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Captain's ready room, USS Republic**
+Kimberly Roth looked skeptically at the isolinear chip that had been conveyed to her from the U.S.S. Perpetua. The chip's yellow pearlescent coating glinted in the subdued lighting of the room. Curled up on Roth's shoulder, Smoke looked at the flashes with a simple twitch of the nose and `bleeked'.
+"You stay out of this stinker," the captain chided. "Remember, this is Captain's Eyes Only, which means no looking over my shoulder. Even for you." Roth wagged her finger for emphasis, but Smoke had already moved on to finding the next location in the room from which he could be the centre of attention.
+Across the Captain's desk, John Carter chuckled. "Why do I get the feeling that he's only humoring you?"
+"Oh, there's no `feeling' about it XO," she commented. "He's got me wrapped around at least one of his little fingers." Roth set down the chip and steepled her fingers in front of her. "Everything all right with our new arrival?"
+"So far so good Captain. In fact, I'm going to meet with him as soon as we're done here. He's the last addition now that we finally have a Tac Chief onboard."
+Roth took a deep breath. "Yes, about that . . . "
+"Don't." Carter slapped a hand against the top of the desk. "Don't even tell me there was ANOTHER problem with our Tac Chief. Damn it!" Carter threw up his hands in frustration. "What did he do? Implode? Get assimilated by the Borg? Maybe a hangnail?!"
+"Close," Roth said grimly. "Transporter accident."
+Immediately, John felt his face redden. "Oh . . . oh, God. I didn't think . . . It's hard to remember that thing's actually dangerous."
+In truth, Carter had a point. The transporter was originally invented in the early 22nd century by Doctor Emory Erickson over 150 years ago. Like any technology, especially one as radical as matter/energy conversion, there were problems in the beginning, but for years now, the process had been refined to the point where travel by transporter was taken nearly for granted. As with any process that relied on mechanical assistance, there was always the potential for a mishap, but the quadruple redundant configuration of most transporter systems throughout the quadrant made actual system failure fairly rare. Still, Carter supposed, if you roll the dice a couple of billion times a day, eventually you're bound to roll snake-eyes.
+"I've had a thought about filling that vacancy though, and if it works out, we won't have to wait weeks for a new arrival from `Fleet."
+Carter crossed his arms over his chest. "Who do you have in mind?" he asked.
+Commander Forrest is back on board. Not permanently, yet," Roth paused, considering for a moment what Admiral Kostya's reaction might be to granting her THAT particular favor, "But I think I can cut through the red tape. I know he was on Cestus three with you and the Hazard Team during the last mission. What are your impressions?"
+Carter paused, reminding himself to give his Captain a fair and honest answer to her question. "Well, he's calm under pressure, that's for sure, and I assume he's qualified to operate any of the tactical systems."
+"But . . . "
+John rolled his eyes. "But he's a Black Shirt, Captain." Carter admitted letting his bias against SI show through. He assumed Captain Roth wanted his honest opinion, and Carter was determined to see that she got it. "I just don't like the idea of leaving the Tac position in the hands of a man I don't really trust."
+"Would you have trusted Vaax if he'd made it onboard?"
+"Sure, but that's different. I'd have had no reason NOT to trust Vaax."
+Roth tilted her head. "But you have some reason not to trust Forrest? What did he do?"
+"Nothing exactly," Carter admitted. "It's just that . . . "
+"Did he or did he not help you and the Hazard Team on Cestus three?"
+"He did."
+"And did he or did he not comply with all your orders during the mission?"
+"He did, Captain."
+"Even the ones he might not have agreed with?"
+Carter felt the familiar smirk cross his face. "Oh, that's for sure Ma'am."
+"And the rest of the Department would follow his lead?"
+"They'd better Ma'am," Carter said, letting the slightest edge of pride creep into his voice, "I trained them."
+There was a slight glimmer in Roth's eye as she could se she'd made a point with the XO. "Right then," she said, setting her hands on the polished black surface. "I'll put in the request to PERSCOM by the end of the day. And look at it this way, Carter . . . at least now we can keep an eye on him."
+Carter chuckled, glad to see that he and his captain were on the same page when it came to Starfleet Intelligence. "Since we're clearing the air here Captain, can you set me straight on some scuttlebutt ?"
+Roth nodded. "I'll do what I can XO, but the stuff has a mind of it's own."
+"Don't I know it." John said, running his fingers through his hair. "Heard we had some V.I.P.'s on board?"
+"That's right. Compliments of Admiral Janeway. Competition for Mister Cole from what I understand."
+"Janeway?" Carter said, more than a little confused. "She's here?"
+"Not exactly, XO. She's provided your council for the preliminary hearing on the Cestus three Affair. Commanders Tuvok and Paris came onto the station a short time ago. I met with them briefly, and They're meeting with Doctor Cromwell and his father right now." Roth paused and placed a finger along side her jawline. "Or rather, Commander Tuvok is. I have no idea where Commander Paris might be."
+Carter nodded as he considered his situation. "Well, I've already had my session with Mister Cole, but I don't think `Check the report' was what he wanted to hear."
+Roth quickly held up a hand. "Stop right there Mister Carter," Roth said with all the seriousness Command School had taught her. "The trial's a civilian matter. As your current CO, I can't allow you to discuss the case no matter how trivial the comments might be."
+"Civilian?" Carter asked, but his mind was already working the puzzle out for itself. "So that's what Cole meant by all that President's Office business."
+"Right," Roth agreed. "Commodore Heizler confirmed the civilian judge's arrival earlier today. The judge has requested that no uniforms or ranks be used during the hearing, since it will be a civilian matter."
+"But if Commander Tuvok is my counsel, then isn't that a conflict of interest for the 'actual' civilians Ma'am?"
+"Not in this case," Roth said as she shook her head. "It seems that Commander Tuvok also holds a license from the Federation Bar, so he can still represent all of you."
+"I see." Carter nodded, than looked back toward the door. "Then if you'll excuse me Captain, I'd better get Mister Burke squared away and see my lawyer."
+Roth waved the Martian officer ahead. "On your way Mister Carter. I'd like this mess cleared up as soon as possible." Roth cast a weary eye on the isolinear chip that seemed to lay heavy on her desk. "I need you and the good doctor back where you belong."
+"Thank you Ma'am," Carter offered with a slight nod of his head. "I'll do my best not to keep you waiting." With that, he turned quickly and left the Ready Room.
+As the hatch hissed shut, Smoke stirred from the slumbering mass he'd been during the officers' conversation and craned his neck to make eye-contact with Kimberly. His nose twitched, and the animal gave out a curious rumbling warble.
+"No," the captain answered. "I don't know if they'll come out of it okay or not, but I certainly hope so."
+The dark, graceful creature `bleeked' again.
+"And no more celery for you either!"
+----
+Without pause or hesitation, without error or fault, the nimble shuttle craft Delta Flyer moved through space with the grace and agility of an accomplished dancer. The unorthodox design coupled with the accomplished pilot at the ships controls made for a masterful display to any who watched. Skimming less than a meter over the outer shell of Starbase 39-Sierra, it was astonishing enough that the pilot was human. To know that the pilot was also flying blind, unaided by the crafts sophisticated sensors, made it all the more remarkable. To Lieutenant Nathan Hawk, this was as close to serenity and inner peace as he would ever know. The irony that it came on the verge of a trial in which he and his colleagues where accused of charges ranging from attempted murder to treason wasn't lost on him.
+"Damn," remarked Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris, "I must be loosing my edge."
+Hawk's only reply was the hint of a grin at the corners of his mouth. Tom Paris was, after all, one of the best pilots in the known galaxy. To have him insinuate he considered himself to be out-classed by someone younger, lower ranking, and by all definitions even more or a rogue than himself was a compliment even Hawk had to admit, he was honored to have bestowed on him. After all he didn't exactly have a lot of respect for the majority of Starfleet 'by-the-book' officers. In truth he could count on two hands just how many people he did respect and know personally that wore the uniform.
+"M'surprised I ain't lost mine," Hawk finally commented in reply, "been sittin' 'round, twiddlin' ma thumbs so much lately. Not ta mention only flyin' I get ta do 'nymores a big ole bucket Galaxy-class." he added with irritation.
+"Could be worse," Paris replied, "you could be grounded all together. Considering why Tuvok and I are here, I'm surprised you're not confined to quarters." he admitted.
+"Hrumph," Hawk snorted, "So I take that ta mean ya read up on all this bullshit?" Hawk queried, as he spun the nimble Flyer hard to port and 'dove down' along the station's upper mushroom-like dome, deviating from his perfect circumnavigation.
+"Well, there wasn't much else to do on the ride here. Tuvok isn't exactly renowned for his conversational skills, if you know what I mean." Paris responded.
+"So ya think m'guilty Tom?" Hawk asked suddenly, without formality. Ninety-nine percent of other superior officers, he knew would object to being called by their first name by a subordinate they had only just met. He could tell from Paris' disposition and reputation he wasn't one of them though.
+"Well," Paris replied, stalling a moment, caught off guard by the straight-forward question. "You admitted you did what you're accused of, but I think you where justified. So do a lot of people who know the details. Like Admiral Janeway." he said, his tone sounding as if he was trying to re-assure someone.
+"Ya know," he said, as he quickly maneuvered the small craft into a steep turn/dive up along the underside of the starbase, "it ain't m'self I'm worried 'bout n'all this. I've got more ace cards up m'sleeve than a crooked poker player. It's Carter n'the Doc, not ta mention the Doc's ole man." Hawk admitted.
+"If I where you, I'd be worried about myself just as much. Besides the charges you're all facing together, you've got the attempted murder and assault and battery charges on you alone. Even if the court finds it justified, you could still be looking at serious time."
+Shaking his head, Nat slammed on the control rods, throwing the Flyer hard to port and spinning her around level at the same time, sending her heading out into open space, away from the starbase. While he had dreamed for years of taking this ship out for a spin, he couldn't focus now on his flight as their conversation continued.
+"I ain't gotta worry 'bout m'self, Tom," he said, spinning around from the controls to face Paris, who sat only a half-meter away at a secondary seat next to the pilot. "I can't get inta specifics, but, like I said, ace cards n'all. I'll be fine. It's . . . " he said, trailing off.
+"Your friends?" Tom offered. Hawk winced, not eager to use the term, but then shook his head deciding it was the only one that really fit. Colleagues was too formal for the moment. "Listen, Tuvok is probably the best lawyer you could have. I mean, hell, he once won a case convincing Captain Janeway that a Q had the right to commit suicide." he said with an exasperated smile. "It's not gonna be easy, but if there's a way, he'll get them - and you - out of this."
+"I ain't sure there is a way, though," Nat replied. "I mean, this whole case s'bunch a bull, n'they know it. The blackshirts r'the ones who screwed up royal, not us. They broke the treaty n'then they say the Doc's pop is some sorta terrorist fer defendin' his home. It ain't right, none of it, n'anybody who knows the facts knows that." Hawk insisted.
+"Bureaucracy in action, one of the few things I didn't miss in the Delta Quadrant." Paris quipped in response.
+"Bureaucracy, ignorance, arrogance, Vulcan logic," Hawk prattled off, "all v'it lumped t'gether times a couple thousand, that's what makes the Federation just s'bad s'the Romulans, Ferengi, Cardies, ya name it."
+"It could always be worse, you could be stuck in the Delta Quadrant, seventy-thousand light years from home, under constant attack . . . " Paris said, his tone of voice actually going from re-assuring to nostalgic as he went on.
+"Ya miss it?" Hawk asked.
+"The Delta Quadrant?" Paris asked back.
+"Don't sound half bad from all's been told," Hawk replied, wondering how well he would have adapted to such a scenario. Would he have turned out like Paris? Reformed, responsible, husband and father, pilot turned executive officer? Or would he have gone the road less traveled? Like Seska and Jonas.
+"It had it's charms," Paris replied with a quirky smile. "Lets just say it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't wanna live there. Again." he added. "What about you?" he queried.
+"Hmm?" Hawk responded.
+"The war, the 85th, flying a fighter. You miss it?" Paris asked.
+"Every damn day m'life," Hawk answered honestly. "Only time m'life I actually felt . . . "
+" . . . Complete?" Paris offered.
+"Yeah," Hawk confirmed. "Somethin' bout being at the controls of a one-man ship, flyin' n'fightin', so much goin' on yer mind can't catch up, actin' on instinct, only care n'the cosmos is winnin' the day . . . "
+"What about survival?" Paris questioned.
+"Overrated," Hawk replied with a snort, "Ma thought always was, long s'I take some them bastards with me, r'keep other folk from gettin' blown ta hell, it's worth my life."
+"That why you made all those Kamikaze runs?" Tom asked.
+Looking at Paris, Hawk scrutinized the man for a moment before saying anything, "Y'know, only folk ever ask me 'bout them either impressed folk, curious ta see if it's true, or Counselor's tryin' ta get inside ma head."
+"Well I am impressed, sort of. And I'm not a Counselor." he replied. Realizing Hawk was suspicious, he decided to try the direct approach. "Honestly?" Paris offered. "Tuvok can't make heads or tails of you. Your record has more disciplinary marks than anybody else on record, half of it is blacked out by Starfleet Intelligence, and everything about you is contradictory. He thought I might be able to make some sense of it all." Paris admitted.
+"Have ya?" Hawk queried.
+"I'm not sure myself," Paris replied. "I'm not even sure what Tuvok expects."
+"Tom," Hawk began, "Ya tell yer Vulcan buddy, whatever he needs from me ta get Carter n'the Doc and his Pop off, he's got it. Ain't got nothin' ta do with them Kamikaze runs though."
+"Alright." Tom replied.
+"Republic to Delta Flyer," came a hallow voice from the ships comm-circuits.
+"Flyer here, go ahead." replied Paris.
+"Sir, Commander Tuvok needs to meet with you as soon as possible." said the voice.
+"Acknowledged." Paris replied.
+Turning around to face the controls again, Hawk laid in a course back for the Republic. After a few moments of silence, Hawk finally spoke up.
+"Tom," he said. "Thanks."
+"For what?" Paris asked.
+"Being a Pilot." Hawk replied with a shrug, unsure what else to say.
+"Any time." Paris replied with a smirk.
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter22>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 22: Rumors**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Turbolift, USS Republic**
+Naruko was shocked that her little meeting with the Captain went so smooth after her being in incarcerated at the Starbase, though she told the truth, but on all but one topic. The doors slid open on to deck three where the Mess Hall was just right around the corner.
+**Location: Officer's mess, deck 3, USS Republic**
+A group of young crewmen were sitting down at one of the large tables enjoying each others company.
+"I hear our new Chief of Operations is still in the brig at the Starbase, because the Klingon government is demanding a trial on Q'onos." said a crewmen
+"Are you sure about that?" questioned the second crewmen confused by his buddy's statement. "I thought it was the Naussican government."
+"Yea same here." said the others.
+"Yea before you know it Starfleet is going to think the Captain is running a pirate ship." commented one of the crewmen.
+One of the crewmen stood up in his chair, "Argh mates we're goin off to rape and pillage some Gorn outpost to find that latium for ours booties."
+Others just shook their heads in silence, as their shipmate made a fool of himself.
+One of the crewmen noticed a young Asian ensign sit down at the table across from them. "Hey who do you think that is?" Pointing out the young Asian ensign.
+A few of them took a quick glance, when one of them said, "No way is that the new Chief, she's too puny"
+"Yea I have to agree with that."
+The joker of the crew got up and walked over to Naruko, saying in his pirate voice "Arr.. Would you like to join me and my shipmates for a few brews missy?"
+Naruko couldn't help put chuckle a little giving a nod of approve, "Yea sure" she said thinking it might be a good chance to get to know her shipmates.
+Naruko sat down towards the end of the table as the pirate of the group began to introduce everyone.
+"Argh, these are my fellow shipmates next to you is Davis, to your right is Tracy, John is across for from ya and I'm Captain Lambert captain of this crew of misfits." He said with zeal of emotion.
+"Oh god, you had to say pirate in this conversation and the now the new kid thinks we're a bunch of comedians." said Tracy feeling a bit abashed.
+Davis tried to comfort Tracy by patting her on the back. "Come on I'm sure the new gal doesn't think that, look at least she laughs at Lambert's lame jokes."
+"Hey! My jokes are not lame." said Lambert in defense.
+"So Ensign what's your name?" inquired John
+"Naruko" she said
+"Cool name, that's Japanese right?" asked Tracy
+"Yea" said Naruko nodding her head, 'I hope their not like this on duty' she thought.
+"See I knew she can't be the new chief ops, Kuga is a Chinese name . . . I think." stated Davis
+"What are they saying about the new chief ops?" questioned Naruko wondering what their saying about her.
+"What?! You haven't heard… it's the like the talk of the ship." said Lambert in a state of shock.
+"At least he dropped the pirate act." commented Tracy
+"Argh! We'll see who the smart ass is when ya walk the plank!" said Lambert sacristy.
+Tracy rolled her eyes ready to throw Lambert out the airlock.
+"Anyway last thing we heard was that the new chief of ops got thrown in the brig at the Starbase for beating up three Naussicans," said John.
+Naruko nearly choked on her tea after hearing the rumor on her.
+"Are you ok Naruko?" asked Tracy
+"Yea, the computer made the tea a little too hot for me." she stated trying to cover her shock.
+As the others went on Naruko couldn't believe the rumors that where popping up over something that was so absurd that happened to her at the Starbase.
+A Starfleet security officer approached the table, "Ensign Kuga?"
+Naruko knew her undercover was over with, when she looked at the others at the table she wasn't sure who was more shocked her or them. She turned towards the person behind her, responding "Yes?"
+"Ensign would be please come with me for questioning." stated the Officer.
+Naruko trying to keep from bursting out with laughter replied "Of course." As she get up she looked at the others and whispered "It was five."
+As Naruko and the Starbase Security Officer left the Mess Hall, the others sat in silence not sure what to make on what just happened.
+About an hour passed as rumors regarding Ensign Kuga circulated around the room, and before too long, Commander Carter strolled through the doors for his meeting with the new chief engineer.
+There were lots of things on John Carter's mind at the moment. Classified orders from Starfleet, a hearing to determine his fate and possible freedom, and it had been far too long since he'd spent any time with Shannon Harris. With a soft swish, the doors to the Officer's Mess closed behind him, and Carter was surprised how welcome he found the idle chatter filling the space.
+"I'm telling you," said one petty officer in science blue. "Five Klingons, and one was a Da'Har Master!"
+"You're cracked!" Scolded the other participant in the conversation. "There aren't even any Klingons on the station, and what the hell would a Da'Har Master be doing here? It wasn't five Klingons, it was three Nausicans and a Ferengi" The correcting crewman sipped a bit of coffee from his mug. "And she laid `em out in 10 seconds flat. The Ferengi didn't even move. She would've killed him if station security hadn't hauled her away."
+Carter shook his head as he continued to look over the room. `Some things never change', he thought to himself.
+It was Beta shift on Republic, so the Officer's Mess was filled with crew from the first shift enjoying a meal and some down time. While a lot of the crew preferred to take meals on The Hill, the Officer's Mess provided a more simple atmosphere that was less social and more regimented. As John scanned the room, returning a number of nods by lower-ranking crew members, he was surprised to find how much the Mess reminded him of the Academy. There were days at the Academy when John Carter had felt utterly helpless; surrounded by events that were bigger than himself. Here, in this sterile, regimented flashback of an environment, he realized that history was repeating itself.
+Carter shook his head to clear that troubling thought away, and moved to a small table near the middle of the room, where Bruce Burke was enjoying a light meal and looking over several PADDs. "I see you're getting right down to work, Lieutenant Commander."
+Burke looked up from his splayed document. "I'm reading some tech update manuals to familiarize myself with the Galaxy Class. Teaching at the Academy and actually running one are two different depths."
+"Looking for anything in particular?"
+"Just familiarization, nothing anyone can help with I think. The ship's huge."
+Carter hid a small chuckle, remembering his first time on a Galaxy Class starship. "Fair enough," he said finally. "Lieutenant Pakita was Vic's assistant. She'll keep you from crawling down the wrong tube."
+"I've met her in passing. She briefed me on ship's operations. It took her a minute to realize I had clearance."
+"She's good. Not really innovative, but she works fast, and she's thorough. Excellent software programmer too."
+Burke returned an easy smile. "Well, you're here now Commander, what's the first thing I need to know?"
+"First things first," Carter said simply. "We use a standard three-shift schedule. Department heads and Command staff on Alpha, assistants on Beta, and Gamma's got the night shift. We find it works pretty well."
+"I'll tell Pakita what I've always said, if you are struggling then your enemies have got ammunition to use against you. Ah, . . . but then again, . . . I don't want to rush in changing things." Burke turned his head slightly, letting his thoughts continue. "I will just stick to my guns, get them to weekly staff meetings, keep them fresh and current."
+Across the table, Carter looked on approvingly.
+"Sorry, thinking out loud."
+"Whatever works for you Mister Burke. It's your department. The Captain wouldn't have approved your transfer if she didn't think you could handle the job."
+" I appreciate the confidence Commander, I'd actually like to know more about the rest of the staff. Where are you from commander? At least, where do you call home port?"
+"Mars, born and raised," Carter answered. "Family originally come from Earth though. You sound like you're from Australia. Right?"
+"Right. Albany, it's the far southern tip of Western Australia. It's a town of about 250,000 and so I'm considered a country boy."
+"Shannon . . . that is, Counselor Harris is from Australia too. Have you met her yet?
+"No I haven't, actually. What part is she from?"
+Carter tilted his head oddly. "You know, come to think of it, I don't really know. That's odd . . . " Carter gave his head a slight shake. "She's actually the ships pediatrician. Our last counselor was a little . . . high-strung. She's been filling in for a bit, but there's a new one on the way. At least, that's what the Captain says."
+John leaned back slightly in his chair. "How do you feel about poker, Mister Burke?"
+"I, uh, I really wouldn't be interested. Actually I'm more into physical forms of recreation."
+"No problem. All department heads have a standing invitation. Fridays, 1900, my quarters. Just an excuse to get together. Tell me then, what exactly do you do for fun?"
+"Swimming, running, rugby."
+"Rugby's a rough game. Fun though."
+"I played Aussie rules football most of my life. But out in the world I find it easier to get mates together to play rugby."
+"You've got a point there. I think the holodeck has some re-creations on file. A few of the Tactical folks might take you up on a game."
+"Are you into any sports, Commander?"
+"Just Lacrosse. Played it growing up, but, I'll try anything once."
+"That's a wicked game."
+John smiled, happy to have at least a small connection to the new addition to the crew. "It had it's moments. Nice and fast though. Like flying."
+"You're a pilot? That explains a few things."
+Carter cast a weary eye on Republic's Chief Engineer. "Good things I hope?"
+"Mostly," Burke said with a bit of a smile.
+"So . . . what was your specialty, Burke? Warp field harmonics? Inter-mix ratios?"
+Burke laughed out loud. " That's a joke right? There is only one intermix ratio. One to one."
+John smiled back. "See, that's why I'm not an engineer."
+"But, anyways, I actually specialize in chemistry, . . . .a materials specialist. That extends into subspace fields, particle theory. In fact, I got 2/3s the way thru medical school before I switched over to engineering."
+"Sounds like you've had a full plate. Speaking of materials, we got a good look at something the Gorns make their ships out of. Some sort of metal, crystalline composite. Defracts phaser energy like nothing I've ever seen."
+"Interesting. Have samples? Data? I'd like to see it."
+"The data's still in the computers. You're welcome to study them all you like."
+"Thanks Commander. Tell me, are you married?"
+"Me? God no!" Carter said, a little too fast. "I mean, not that I wouldn't . . . but I really don't think 'Fleet's the place for families. Still baffles me why we bring dependants onboard."
+Burke shrugged. "Beats the hell out of coming home to a pet dog."
+"Well, you're right there," John offered with a grin. "How long were you at the Academy? As an instructor I mean?"
+"Three years."
+"Hmm." Carter said thoughtfully. "I did a stint there as a Tactical advisor. Really enjoyed it actually."
+"Yes, the middle coast is a beautiful place."
+"Captain Voss was my department chair, and it was his behest that I return to the field. I'll give you forewarning that there'll probably be our share of cadets headed our way. I hope we can gear up to give them a fair go?"
+"Don't see why not." John answered. This ship's got something to prove . . . at least to the rest of 'Fleet."
+Intrigued, Burke pressed ahead. " Tell me about her, her history."
+Carter chuckled a bit. "Well, Republic does have a reputation for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The saucer was originally the USS Saratoga. Found adrift during the Cardassian Wars. It took five years of work, but she was totally re-fit and re- christened about a year ago. Since that time, we've gone through our fair share of scrapes, and a stardrive section. Our first captain was killed a few weeks ago on one of Cestus three's moons, but I really can't say much more than that."
+"They've built two stardrive sections?" Burke put a hand on his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "That's interesting. I thought the theoretical operating procedure in case of a stardrive section being lost in battle was to adapt the saucer for use with the nebula class, like they did with the Porvenir in 2376?"
+"Well . . . we've had some . . . unusual attention from Command. Admiral Vladimir Kostya was sort of Captain Marshall's mentor." Carter felt his expression sour as he spoke the Admiral's name. "Anyway, we lost the first to an alien take-over during first contact with a race of shape-shifters called the Kreltans. Their ships were massive . . . I mean really powerful. We jettisoned the saucer and went back to face them near a planet called Styx. Barely made it out of there alive."
+"Hmm," Burke offered thoughtfully. "Is this a matter of record?"
+"You might have to do some digging, but yes, the whole thing's more or less wrapped up."
+"I'll have to look into it." Burke stacked the PADDs in front of him to order the table a bit better. "Speaking of interesting things, Commander, did I hear something about the Command staff facing a court martial?"
+Carter shook his head. "No, it's a hearing, and it's not the whole command staff. It's just me, Hawk, Forrest, and some civilians from Cestus three."
+John gave his new chief engineer an appraising glance, but before he could answer, his combadge chirped.
+//"Commander Tuvok to Commander Carter."//
+"Hang on a sec." John said, holding up a hand. He looked up a bit to address the chirp. "Carter, go."
+//"It is necessary that I meet with you before the hearing tomorrow, Commander. Please report to conference room two."//
+Carter winced as he felt a sudden surge of impending drama and maneuvering that we wasn't at all looking forward to. "On my way, Commander. Give me five mics."
+//"Take as many . . . mics . . . as you wish, Commander Carter."//
+John looked back at Bruce, noticing a bit of concern in the engineer's face. "Nothing to worry about Burke, just a walk in the park." Carter pushed back from the table and headed for the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Take good care of my ship, Mister Burke. You've got some big shoes to fill." With that, Carter stepped out of the mess.
+"I'll do my best, Commander. Good luck."
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter23>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 23: Calm Before The Storm**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Private quarters aboard the Transport Ship Omniretant**
+Reittan was drowning in a sea of thought, "The USS Republic." The assignment rolled over and over in his mind. Excitement, wonder, and a little fear were caught up in a whirlpool of emotion. To try to break the tide of thought he began to look around the transport. He left his quarters and started down the brightly lit corridor for the mess hall.
+Upon arrival he ordered a strawberry daiquiri, his human grandmother's favorite drink and one he had placed among his favorites. The usual din of an intricate weave of thoughts, feelings, and sounds surrounded him in the hall. He worked his way towards a table closest to the window where he could be close to the stars. Sitting down, he felt some unusually strong emotions from the table next to him. He looked up to see a male humanoid look at him then quickly glance down at the floor. The feeling of distain towards Vulcans emanated suddenly from the man. The thought was brief. It had entered the man's mind then it quickly changed, turning towards his female companion.
+Reittan wondered on the scene. It had happened before, many times. Individuals would see his ears and assume he was Vulcan. After getting to know him, they were shocked at the "Vulcan's" openness and friendliness. Lieutenant Commander Tolkath admitted that his appearance gave him an edge with those who didn't know him. After all, who would suspect an empathic Vulcan? It was almost an oxymoron. He continued to muse at those who mistook his genetic makeup. It was always interesting to note an individual's reaction when they found out that he was empathic and telepathic.
+Tolkath's thoughts were drawn back to the neighboring couple. Quickly, in order not to intrude on their communications, he looked back into the deep immensity of space and focused on it. It would be just a short time before they reached Star Base Sierra where the Republic was docked.
+Suddenly, the emotions of the next table grabbed Reittan's focus again. The female humanoid's emotions seemed normal enough for the setting, longing, loyal, slightly aroused, but the male was hiding something. He's married, and she's not his wife. The thought of deception caused Reittan's skin to crawl. He returned to his frothy refreshment, and back to minding his own business; loosing himself to the stars and his drink.
+Upon arrival at the star base, Lieutenant Commander Tolkath quickly gathered his things and left the Omniretant. He walked briskly through the corridors towards his new assignment. As he was walking, he happened to glance out the window and saw the Republic. A sense of excitement entered his being.
+"I'd better report to the Captain at once," Reittan thought to himself. As he walked through the halls, different thoughts emanated from those passing by.
+"Three Naussican, two Ferengi, and a Klingon were killed," and many other similar thoughts filled the minds of those he passed; though the number and carnage differed. Upon reaching the Republic, Reittan asked a passing ensign the whereabouts of Captain Roth. He wanted to meet the Captain as soon as possible so he could get started and go back over the personnel logs to familiarize himself with the crew. As he headed down the brightly lit corridor towards the captain's ready room, he sensed tension among the crew members.
+"Already?" he thought to himself. "I guess I had better get briefed on the situation from the Captain."
+Upon reaching the turbo lift, Tolkath waited patiently until the familiar hiss of the doors opening announced its arrival. "Man, this is a big ship," Tolkath thought in wonderment. "I had forgotten how big a galaxy class is." When the turbo lift reached its destination, Lieutenant Commander Tolkath stepped out and made his way to the captain's ready room.
+----
+Kimberly Roth looked grimly at the angular features of the Admiral on the other end of the subspace channel. "Yes sir, of course I appreciate the importance of the system, but until I get there I won't . . . "
+"May I share something with you Captain Roth?" Vladimir Kostya asked on the other end of the link.
+"Of course, Admiral."
+"I have the utmost respect for your open-mindedness Captain." Kostya intoned softly. "In fact, it's one of the marks of a superior officer. But I do hope that you won't let your . . . enthusiasm blind you to certain realities."
+Roth felt her eyebrow raise a habit she picked up from her brief association with a young Vulcan doctor on leave from the farthest reaches of the Federation. "I'm afraid that I don't quite take your meaning sir."
+"Meaning, Captain Roth, that almost anything can happen to a ship exploring the farthest reaches of space. A captain should always be careful what course of action she chooses. That's all."
+The menace in Kostya's voice was clear, even if his words weren't. "I'll share your . . . concern with the crew sir."
+Kostya's demeanor was almost oily as a grin slid across his face. "A fine idea, Kimberly." He added with a leer. "Contact me when you've gotten the terra-formers back on schedule. Kostya out."
+As the subspace channel went dead, Roth finally let herself shiver. As if on cue, Smoke moved silently across the room and slid under Roth's desk, finally taking a spot on the desktop near the subspace viewer. Looking up, Smoke cocked his head and give Roth a curious grumble.
+"I know, I know, but that's the price of admission."
+Smoke returned an expression that was close to a sarcastic smirk, then the creature's head snapped to the door chime.
+Roth straightened her posture. "Come", she offered.
+The door slid open and a tall, dark haired Lieutenant Commander with unmistakably pointed ears stepped into the room. He nodded slightly to the captain.
+"Ah, you must me Counselor Tolkath." Roth stood up and shifted her weight as Smoke padded lightly up her arm and perched himself on the captain's shoulder. "Welcome aboard Republic Mister Tolkath. What can I do for you?"
+"Nothing in particular Captain; just reporting that I am aboard before I go to my quarters and make them some resemblance of home." He flashed his famous smile again. He never was quite sure whether or not his was a famous smile, or whether or not it was the singularity of the scene of a smiling Vulcan look-alike.
+Reittan could sense the mutual bond between the Captain and the creature on her shoulder. Unlike many of his Betazoid counterparts, small animals and the complexity of their emotions fascinated Reittan.
+"Sounds like a good idea," the captain replied. "This ship is on a light duty schedule while we're in port. The skeleton crew is manning critical stations on four-hour shifts, and they pretty much have the rest of the time to themselves. However, this will change within the next few days as we prepare for our departure. Mission orders will be posted soon, so I suggest you track down your section heads and introduce yourself after you settle in."
+"Very well, ma'am," the counselor nodded.
+"Also, I don't know what type of ships you're used to serving aboard, but here on the Republic, the ship's counselor fulfills a very important role. Not only will you and your people provide diplomatic, linguistic, and psychological services, but you'll also work with the crewmaster; our liaison to the ship's civilian family members, as well as the ship's chaplain, archaeological officers, and anthropological teams."
+"Sounds like a good workload, and I love a good challenge."
+"Good. According to the ships logs, the Republic has been without a qualified counselor for months, and we've had to temporarily assign our ship's pediatrician into the job. I've informed her that she's going back to her regular job, and considering the stress of filling a position not associated with the medical department, I'm sure the doctor is happy about it."
+Reittan nodded in agreement. After all, some would rather face a room full of Klingons than dare step foot in a room with a single counselor, the ravenous wolves they are.
+The pause in the conversation caused the Captain to inquire, "Is there anything else I can assist you with, Counselor?"
+"No thank you Captain, I look forward to serving with you aboard the Republic. I think I will retire to my quarters and begin to unpack. I can sense this is going to be quite the adventure."
+----
+**Location: Deck 3, USS Republic**
+Naruko Kuga walked along Republic's oddly still corridors with a tall security officer at her side. To be fair, she was getting used to that, but that didn't mean she had to like it. A glance up at the crewman's collar told Kuga that her escort was a lower ranking officer. The single chevron on the man's collar pin marked him as a Petty Officer Third Class.
+As the pair rounded another corner, the enlisted man ushered Kuga into a turbolift car. Once inside the car , Kuga turned a weary eye back to her companion. "Just where are you taking me, Petty Officer?"
+"Questioning Ma'am, just like I said."
+"Right." Kuga folded her arms across her chest and waited for the car to stop. After a few short minutes, the car came to a rest, and the officer led Kuga out again. The pair kept walking until Kuga's companion stopped in front of the large doors leading to Republic's gym. "Inside please ma'am." the Petty Officer said respectfully.
+Reluctantly, Kuga stepped inside.
+The scene in the gym was startling to say the least. A mix of non-commissioned officers and enlisted men from all of Republic's departments were crowded around an athletic mat. The mat itself was thin and square, and Kuga recognized the familiar set up for competition fighting.
+In the centre of the mat, a short man with a dusty grey crew cut and a build resembling a fireplug stood, wearing a Starfleet Marine Corps tee-shirt and loose fitting sweat pants. His hands were covered with blue practice pads. The short man turned to face Kuga as she approached.
+"Evenin' Ma'am," he said with practiced crispness. "Name's Brad Rainier, but most everyone calls me `Chief'."
+"Chief of what?" Kuga asked as she stepped closer to the mat.
+Rainier smiled, which made the age lines in his face more pronounced. "Chief of the Boat actually," he answered, "and I'd like to ask you a few questions." There was a sharp `thwack' as Rainier clapped his padded hands together, welcoming Kuga into the ring.
+“I’m sorry Chief, but I don’t fight.” said Naruko
+“And Klingons?” inquired Rainier
+Naruko smirked, “Never happened chief.”
+“I’ll believe that after our questioning” said Rainier as he clapped his gloves again. “Ready?”
+Naruko and sighed with hopelessness as she shook her head.
+“I take that as a yes” as Rainier took a swing towards Naruko’s face.
+Naruko acting out of training and instinct dodge Rainier’s assault with a repeated right and left punches. “Sir, I don’t see the point of this line of questioning.”
+Rainier aimed his next punch for Naruko’s gut, until he found his arm being blocked and his opponent’s foot an inch from his face.
+Naruko let go of Rainier’s arm as she hopped a few steps to regain her balance. “Are we done Chief?”
+Rainier took a deep breath and began his assault again.
+As Rainier swung with his left arm, Naruko bent forward and with a gentle swing of her arm hitting the side of Rainier’s rib cage.
+“Please tell me you’re not afraid to hurt an old man,” said Rainier as he took a few steps back.
+Naruko stepped off the mat and took a bow, “Sorry Chief, but I think this investigation is over with,” she said.
+Brad Rainier bent at the waist inhaling deeply to get his wind back after his quick exchange with Kuga. He looked up with an almost playful gleam in his eye. "I know all I need to Ma'am." the elder Chief said respectfully. He straightened and removed the blue practice guards from his hands. "Next time you get any grief from a civie, or anyone else for that matter . . . " Rainer looked briefly at the assembled company of commissioned and non-commissioned officers, "you just let me know. We've got you're back Ma'am. Just in case."
+Rainer snapped to attention. "Attention on Deck! Rainier looked as if he were made out of stone, until he brought his right hand up, giving Kuga an antiquated salute which hadn't been used by Earth crews for over 200 years.
+Naruko was surprised to see the rest of the assembled crew follow suit.
+"Um . . . Dismissed." Kuga said simply, then she turned to exit the gym.
+As Kuga exited, Rainier brought his salute down and stood at ease, then paced around the gym mat. "Alright you yahoos!" he chastised, more for effect than any actual emotion, "You heard the lady, clear out! You must have something useful to do."
+Most of the assembled crew began to mill about in small clusters, when a young, dark-skinned crewman in command colors stepped up to look at the chief. "Excuse me Chief?" she asked as Rainier turned to look her over, "but, what was all that about?"
+Brad looked the young crewman over. "By God", he whispered, "you people get younger every year." He turned his head toward the door and addressed the crewman. "That, crewman . . . what's your name?"
+"Yeates sir."
+"That, crewman Yeats," Rainier continued, now sounding rather like a grandfather to the young woman, "was a lesson in trust. We're going to have to trust the officers, and they're going to have to trust us, or people will die. I needed to know if Kuga could control her temper. She can. The Ensign needed to know that we'd back her play, and the decisions of the other officers as well. Now she knows she's got allies in her corner."
+"Yes, Chief, But why the . . . "
+Brad Rainier smiled. "'Cause scuttlebutt works both ways, Yeats. She might not tell anyone what happened here today, but sooner or later, word will get around. When it does, the rest of the officers and crew will know that WE know we're all in this together. Got it?"
+Yeats shook her head. "Not really no. I mean, she's an Ensign. Technically, we'd have to follow her orders, right?"
+"Absolutely," Brad agreed, "but once we learn to trust each other around here, you'll do it because you WANT to. Not because you have to. There's a big difference."
+Brad looked on, searching Yeats' face for recognition. "Here endeth the lesson."
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter24>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 24: Jack, Queen and a Pair of Deuces**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Corridor, USS Republic**
+So far, her first day at her new assignment hadn't gotten any better. Then again, it also hadn't really gotten worse either, and a lack of bad was a good thing, wasn't it? Letting a sigh escape, she turned as the turbolift doors opened -- and walked right into a blond Lieutenant in command red, who was exiting the lift.
+"Woah!" Hawk blurted, as the slim young woman bumped into him. As she stumbled from the surprise, he grabbed her upper arms to steady her. "Easy there, darlin'." he said. "Gotta watch where ya goin' er one a'these days you'll do that n'find no lift on the other side a them doors."
+"Thank you…" said Naruko, still a bit startled. "I’m terribly sorry sir, I’ll be more careful next time."
+"S'alright, not like I ain't used ta bumpin' bodies with pretty young things like yaself." he replied with a devil-may-care grin appearing on his face.
+"If you don’t mind…" noticing the rank on his collar, "…lieutenant, I am not some pretty little thing placed on this ship for your amusement." stated Naruko, her blood now boiling.
+"Feisty, ain't ya? I like that. Sometimes, anywho." he said.
+"Feisty…?" As she was about to break a few bones of the officer in front of her, she realized it would be more trouble for just a few sexual comments. "…I think its better that I just leave… I have some things to do at ops."
+"Well hold up a moment, this ain't no way fer console buddies ta start off." he said, blocking her path.
+"Console buddies?" Naruko asked.
+"Yeah, ya jus said yer Ops, right? Well, I'm Helm. So we'll be seein' a lot of each other." he told her.
+"For your sake, sir, I hope not." Naruko said as she tried to walk pass him.
+"Come on now, lemme least buy ya a drink, er maybe . . . hell, well, if I knew what time it was I'd suggest a certain meal but, ain't really been livin' by a clock past few weeks." he said.
+"I’m sorry, but I think I’ll have to pass… I’m really not looking for a date." she said.
+"Me neither, honest, I swear," he said, raising his right hand for dramatic effect. Seeing she wasn't buying it, he decided to try something different; honesty. "C'mon now, lets start over. I know I can come on a bit strong, dun mean nothin' by it. Just ma auto-pilot, I guess. Lemme buy ya a drink 'er somethin' - totally plutonic an official-like. Promise." he said.
+“Alright, but I’m holding you to the plutonic agreement.” she stated
+"That's tha spirit," Hawk replied. "So, ya new 'round here, I gather?" he queried, as they headed down the corridor toward the crew lounge.
+“Yes, I just got on board after being held at the Starbase.” she said
+"Hold up," he said, stopping for a moment, "yer sayin' yer the new Ops Chief? Tha one dun beat the frinx outta half-dozen Klingons over 'board the station?"
+“Yea, but it’s not what you think.” Naruko said hoping to get this event behind her.
+"Heh," Hawk snorted as they moved on, "Shoulda known. Never trust the rumor mill. Least not with details." he said.
+“They hear my last name and think I’m some sort of kung fu master.” she commented
+"So where ya from?" he asked as they entered the lounge, and he lead the way up to the bar.
+“Earth… Japan to be more exact, you?” she said
+"Me? South Carolina, Charleston. Originally, anywho. Ma folks . . . traveled." he said, struggling for a second with the words. "So uh, whadya think a the Republic so far?" he asked, changing the topic.
+“Big ship, almost too big for my taste really.” she said
+"Too bulky, ya ask me. I prefer most everythin' lean. Starships, steaks, women . . . " Nat agreed.
+"What'll it be?" asked a Bolian from behind the bar.
+"Whiskey, neat." Hawk ordered.
+“Hot Tea, please.” Naruko ordered
+"Can't hold ya liquor?" he asked.
+“I choose not to drink around strange men.” she said
+"Heh, I once drank a case a romulan ale on abet. Nasty stuff, ya ask me. Damn near blacked out fer a week. Started drinkin' near Betazed, woke up at the Wolf 359 memorial outpost six days later." he said with a laugh.
+“That’s why I don’t drink liquor," she said with a smirk, "so how long have you been in Starfleet?” asked Naruko.
+"Class of '73," Hawk replied, knocking back his drink in one movement and ordering another. "I graduated just as shit was hittin' the fan with tha D'minion. Me and ma squad - tha 85th, the flyin' aces - saw some tha first action, escortin' Maquis refugees outta the DMZ b'fore any formal declaration r'anythin'." Hawk said.
+“Wow, so I take it you saw a lot of action during the war?” she inquired as she took a sip of her tea.
+"Heh, ya name a battle, I was there. Most a the time, we was with the 7th Fleet. Even at Tyra," he said, his tone turning morbid at mention of the infamous battle where the 7th fleet had lost 98 out of 112 starships. Again he downed his drink in one swoop, ordering a third as quickly as the glass hit the bar.
+“I’m sorry, must have been hard for you seeing so much death," she said. Pausing for a moment, she went on. "So what did you do after the war?” asked Naruko
+"Naw, I left 'bout three 'er four years back. Me n'Starfleet thought it best ta part company after tha war. Only came back cause of . . . uh . . . uhm," he trailed off, never having had to explain - or at least make up an explanation - as to why he had come back before. "All the . . . wonderful . . . opportunities . . . " he finally managed. "How 'bout you? Why'd ya join up?"
+“The adventure…” she said knowing that was lie “…being a computer assistant for my mom didn’t sound too pleasant.”
+"Heh," Hawk laughed, "Yeah, can't say that sounds ta be much fun. She musta been happy though, right? With you joinin' Starfleet n'all?"
+“No, my mom wasn’t too happy when she saw me packing my bags…” she said as she took a sip of tea remembering the fight she had with her mom. “…I guess she didn’t want to lose me like she lost dad.”
+"Lost as in he left, er as in he left the buildin'?" Hawk asked.
+“No, his ship went missing during the war.“ she said trying to hold back the tears.
+"Yeah," Hawk said, not good with these types of situations, "that's rough."
+“So why did you come back to Starfleet.” she asked trying to change the subject.
+Despite the fact the question put him in a position where he could only lie, he was relieved to be off the topic of dead parents, not just for the fact he wasn't much good with dealing with other peoples baggage, but because of his own.
+"Oh, well . . . just . . . couldn't pass up an offer I got." Hawk replied, managing not really to lie other than by omission. "So ya don't drink, ya don't hang 'round strange men," he said with a grin, "What do ya do fer fun?" he asked.
+“Ever go to the movies?” she asked
+"What-ies?" he asked, a befuddled look on his face.
+“I love all the old motion pictures from the mid twentieth century, a lot of them have silly plots, but give a good perspective of what life was like back then.” she said
+"Sorta like a holonovel, only ya ain't do nothin' but watch," Hawk said, remembering, "yeah, I think I saw one back at the Academy 'er somethin'." he said.
+“How about you… “ giving a smirk “…When you don’t drink and fly on autopilot?” she asked
+On instinct, a devil-may-care flirtatious grin slipped over Nat's face, but he quickly deactivated his autopilot, "Well ta be honest, usually flyin' on autopilot gets me ta the real fun," he said with a laugh, "but otherwise, lately, I've been fixin' up an old Peregrine-Class fighter. Prototype, actually. Beat ta hell, but, she'll be space worthy again. Eventually." he said.
+“Sounds like fun, do you know what time it is?” she asked
+“Oh 'bout 16:00 'er so, why, got a date?" he asked.
+“No…” she said shaking her head “… I just wanted to get to the bridge and get started on my duties.”
+"Ah, well, s'pose I'll see ya up there, someday soon. Ain't gonna be on duty fer a while longer. Sorta under investigation fer assault, attempted murder, conspiracy, the like." he said honestly.
+“Assault… attempted murder?!” she said sounding surprise.
+"It's a long story. Ain't just me in the fryin' pan either, Cyclops - that's C'mander Carter - the Doc, his Pop and some others. It'll work out though, always does." he said assuredly.
+“I see, well I better be off now, thank you for the drink sir.” she said as she got up from the bar.
+"Anytime, m'lady, anytime." he said with a wink as she departed.
+----
+The turbolift hum as it passed decks at the speed of over 1,000 kmh, Naruko stood in silence as she waited for the doors to open to her destination.
+The turbolift began to slow down until it came to a halt, as the doors slid open a wave of an offal stench filled the air. She peered into the corridor of dimming lights and the red alert flashing down the corridor. She took a step off the turbolift, as she turned around to glace back inside… the lift had disappeared.
+She began to walk slowly down the corridor the sounds of bulkheads collapsing and the horrible smell of death on the ship was beginning to take its toll as she neared a console. Starting to feel sick to her stomach from the stench, she also began to feel cold chills run up her spine as she tried to get information on where she was from the computer.
+The screen quickly flashed to black as she entered her access codes, the sound of metal tearing echoed throughout the ship, as she turned back to the screen ‘Death’ appeared in front of her. She slowly walked backwards away from the console as the hairs on her skin rose in fear… suddenly she stopped as her heart began to race feeling the cold hand of someone touching her shoulder. Out of instinct she jumped around to face who was behind her.
+The body of a young petty officer swung back and forth in front of the door way as his decompressed body hanged by a small piece of flesh from the ceiling. Is eyes had frozen blood or tears of red as if he saw death himself.
+Her thought of the petty officer was replaced by sound of a little girl giggling as it echoed through the corridor, Naruko turned her head to see where the sound was coming from… A little girl standing at the intersection ahead in a white dress holding a teddy bear, unafraid of the death around her.
+Naruko began to approach the little girl, but the girl quickly ran off down the corridor towards the darkness. Naruko began to run trying to catch up to the girl, only to find when she turned the corner to see a forcefield blocking the vacuum of space.
+A weak almost near death voice echoed in the opposite direction from where the girl came from saying over and over again “Naruko… Naruko…”
+Naruko instantly recognized the voice as she called out “Daddy!” With zeal she made her way down the corridor following the voice as it got louder and louder. She came to a halt as she recognized the cabin of her father’s on the Roosevelt. She looked in horror as she saw her father was being consumed by a Borg like machine.
+“Help me Naruko… Help me” he said in pain.
+Naruko took a step forward, but only to be thrown to the ground by a forcefield, as she came back to her senses from the quick jolt of electricity… the room now filled with the giggles of the little girl. She watched as the girl walked towards the door way, puzzled as how she got there after her disappearing act on the other side of the corridor.
+The little girl gave Naruko an odd expression as if she was curious to see Naruko, or that she knew her “Don’t be scared… father is ok.” said the girl as she gave a smile trying to comfort Naruko.
+Naruko began to look around her, as the sound of metal tearing began to echo through the walls of the ship . . . getting louder, and louder. As she turned her head towards her father again, she watched in terror as the hull of the ship broke apart.
+“Daddy!” she cried out as she jumped up in her bed.
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter25>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 25: Requiem**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+Nestled safely within the blanket of space proclaimed the property of the Romulan Star Empire, a lonely private yacht - adrift upon cursory inspection - resonated with the exotic harmony and melody of Terran music. Within the confines of this darkened and unremarkable vessel lurked three equally darkened and unremarkable humanoids - at least, once more, upon cursory inspection. As with many things throughout the galaxy, though, little truth can be drawn from such simplistic and vague examinations of only the surface details. By peering deeper than the surface, though, one can discover more than the most obvious. As is such with this particular situation.
+The first individual of the trio is a bald, lumbering, heavy-set male seated opposite a narrow viewscreen, watching the images upon it, his mouth receiving the only form of exercise he has likely seen in far too many years. Though it would be easy to conclude he is content and perhaps even enjoying himself from the surface, only by delving into his relatively simplistic psyche can one understand that this is not contentment, but in fact, coping for him. A way for his considerably more evolved subconscious to protect it's lesser counterpoint from the gravity of their collective situation. A defense mechanism for an individual whose primary duty is defense of another.
+The second individual is perhaps as much the opposite from the first as is possible. Laying upon a lavishly plush bed, engulfed by curtains and tapestries, her rapt attention is focused upon herself, or more precisely, the reflection of herself in the mirror grasped in her right hand. Tending to her full head of flowing red-brown hair, admiring her agile, graceful, and properly trim physique, her only distractions are her own selfish preoccupations of vanity. Though in fairness, she does give fleeting moments of consideration to the third individual's well-being; if only by way of how a change in such would effect her.
+The third individual is considerably unlike the other two. Though he shares some basic traits - vanity, selfishness, preoccupation - he is neither equally alike nor opposite either of his companions. He is also by far more difficult to define. Though of proper mass and proportion, he is not overtly attractive either. Though preoccupied with selfish distractions, his are not as mundane as the others, but far grander in scope and scale. Though prone to agility and grace, his is with words and tone rather than physical bearing. His vice is his own mind rather than an external portion of himself.
+None of these facets of individual personalities, faults, or vices are what makes this triad more than what they appear to be. None of these details, these descriptions, these definitions of the inner workings of this threesome, of whom they are beyond the surface, make them any more or less than a million others throughout the cosmos. What does make this trinity more than unremarkable, more than ordinary, more than the sum of their parts, is, ironically enough, three-fold . . .
+The first of which is their species, which is rather uncommon outside of certain circles and certainly this deep into the firm grasp of the Romulan's - Orion.
+The second of which is their affiliations to a specific organization of less-than-reputable status in the highly moral and respectable levels of existence - the Syndicate of the same name as their race.
+Finally, the third of which is their identities, or to be more specific the identity of one of them, the third individual - Keevan Faro, perhaps the most notorious individual of the upper rung of the previously mentioned organization. At least, since his indictment six months prior at the hands of both the United Federation of Planets, and the local authorities of New Sydney.
+This revelation also answers your next question, which is, why oh why is someone with no doubt a significant amount of power and influence, less the scrupulous as it may be, sitting adrift and virtually alone in a private yacht in the cold dark depths of the outer fringe of the Romulan Star Empire? If however, you're more like the first individual - you remember, the overweight and undereducated one? - I'll spell it out for you. Our dear Mister Faro, influential as he may be, is amongst the ranks of the galaxies most wanted. By which of course I mean that he is a fugitive from the properly adorned keepers of peace and justice.
+In truth, he had never before given much consideration to said properly adorned keepers of peace and justice. In the past, whenever someone with so much as a passing affiliation with such authorities came within a parsec of himself, he simply 'dealt' with them in the manner organized crime syndicates have been 'dealing' with such people for thousands of years across thousands of worlds. It was such lack of consideration, he realized now, such arrogance about what he once considered trivial matters, that had finally been his own downfall . . .
+"At least, for the time being," he mused to himself through gritted teeth, in a barely audible whisper - especially considering the music that bellowed throughout - as he looked out upon the glittering starscape.
+"Did you say something, my love?" asked the second individual - Seya, Faro's long-time mistress and companion - as she lay upside down on the satin sheets covering the palatial bed. Faro, for his part, had to stifle his simmering temper at the sound of her voice upon his ears. While he did care for Seya, at times like these when his mind was focused on more important matters, he wanted little else than to extricate himself from her. 'Or perhaps her from an airlock . . . ' he thought to himself, an indulgent smile forming on his lips at the sinister thought.
+"No, my dear, nothing," he finally replied to her in his normal cool tone of voice, turning towards her as the indulgent smile became one of reassurance and care - forced as it may be at the moment. Kneeling on the floor next to her inverted form on the bed, he caressed her cheek with his hand, as she closed her eyes and snuggled herself in closer to his warm touch. Planting a kiss upon her lips, he drew back slowly and looked upon her voluptuous form and gave thought to making love to her. The sudden snort of laughter from across the room quickly spoiled the mood and reminded Faro of the interminable presence of Zerik, his bumbling bodyguard and lackey.
+"Zerik," he said, rising to his feet, his hand still held against Seya's face by herself, "go to the bridge, would you, and run a diagnostic on the sensors and the engines?" he prompted, wanting to be rid of him for some time.
+"Awrm," came his mumbled response, his mouth packed with a variety of foods, "I wid wat wheriler," he added, which Keevan was quickly able to translate after years of practice to meaning 'I did that earlier'.
+"Yeees," Keevan said knowingly, "but I'd like you to do it again. Better safe than sorry." he said with a cautionary wave of his index finger.
+"Yeah, but," Zerik replied as he swallowed, "this is funny." he added with another burst of laughter as he continued to stare at the viewscreen.
+"So watch it from the bridge!" Seya shouted, as she began to unclasp her barely-there vest-like blouse, knowing full well what Keevan had in mind.
+"Aww, but I can't!" Zerik protested, "it's a live transmission!" he announced, instantly regretting the statement.
+"What?!" shouted Faro, his previously simmering temper raging to a full boil.
+"You bumbling fool! Are you insane as well as stupid!?" blasted Seya, rolling off the bed, unconcerned by her unfastened clothing and the fact it showed even more of her than just the flimsy garment itself.
+"It's just a news broadcast!" came Zerik's defensive reply, as Faro marched toward him, raising his arm, his fist clenched, intending to strike his dimwitted employee. Thankfully for him, that last desperate statement saved him from Faro's fury - at least for the moment. News broadcasts where always live and sent out broad-spectrum, and as such where nearly impossible to track to specific recipients.
+"It's still live, you moron!" shouted Seya, smacking Zerik over the head with a data padd, not feeling as kind as Faro.
+"Oww! Boss! Make her stop! Ouch! Seya!" protested Zerik, who ineptly defended himself despite his capability to deftly do so. Stupid as he may appear, he knew enough to not fight back against his superior's mistress.
+Faro, for his part, had turned his attention away from his oafish assistant and towards the viewscreen, as a rather repulsive Tellarite gave commentary to a video clip that consumed most of the screen. Inserted over the video, which showed a group of Terrans entering some sort of court, was a headline that read: "Federation Officers Answer Charges in Civilian Court" and below that, in smaller text: "Five Starfleet Officers and One Citizen of Cestus three attend a civilian hearing to determine if formal charges will be brought against them. Charges range from Treason & Attempted Murder to Conspiracy and Dereliction of Duty."
+"Oww!" shouted Zerik, drawing Faro's attention away from the screen for a second.
+"Seya," Keevan said simply, as he watched the slow motion play-back on screen. Though compliant in ceasing her assault, Seya did whack Zerik once more before tossing the data padd back on the table. Faro couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that not even the self-proclaimed morally superior Federation could escape such embarrassing situations. "How poetic," he observed.
+" . . . One question that remains unanswered is the identity of one of those being charged," said the voice of the Tellarite reporter, as the screen was consumed by the video feed, which was obviously recorded play-back considering it had since begun again. "While we get a glimpse of him here," commented the reporter, slowing the play-back in speed, "His name has been censored from all press copies of the indictments, and Starfleet itself refuses to offer any identity for the apparent Lieutenant."
+For a few moments, Keevan Faro felt more rage and hate, more contempt and volatile anger, than he had ever before felt in his ninety-four years. Even word of his indictment by the Federation and New Sydney authorities, which came with word that he had been betrayed by one of his own employees had not resulted in such emotions. Fondling the hilt of a dagger he wore around his waist, he gripped it firmly and withdrew it from it's sheath, a scream escaping from his lungs as he did so, drawing the attention of Zerik and Seya. For an instant, both thought the dagger was meant for each of them for some unknown, insignificant reason, until Faro plunged it forcefully into the viewscreen in a spray of sparks.
+"Keevan?" Seya asked hesitantly after a few moments, as Faro stood with his back to herself and Zerik, never having seen him so enraged in all there years together.
+Faro for his part did not reply to Seya's questioning tone, but instead began to do something considerably unexpected - laugh. Hysterically, he began to laugh, as he leaned against the shattered viewscreen for support.
+"Keevan!?" Seya again asked, her tone more forceful and perhaps a bit more fearful as well.
+Once more Faro said nothing, instead, he simply stepped to the side of the viewscreen and turned to face his companions. Blood seeped from a number of small cuts on the hand that had held the dagger, but he didn't seem to notice. As Seya drew her attention from him to the viewscreen, she finally realized why with a gasp that was soon followed by a scornful glare.
+"That's Hawthorne!" shouted Zerik in dumbfounded recognition, as the magnified and frozen image now burnt onto the surface of the shattered viewscreen came into view.
+"Lieutenant Hawthorne!" Faro shouted in reply, through bursts of insane laughter. Tearing a piece of fabric from her already short skirt, Seya wrapped it around Faro's bloodied hand as she stroked his face, trying to calm and comfort him. His mind overcome by a combination of madness and understanding, he didn't notice at first what she was doing. Once he did though, he drew his hand away quickly and pushed back from her, shouting, "Get away from me!"
+"You're hurt!" she proclaimed, trying once more to tend to him, her concern overwhelming her judgment.
+"It all makes sense," he said softly, unconcerned with his minor lacerations as he drew he hand from Seya's attempts to care for him, splattering drops of blood across the room.
+"What does?" Zerik asked brainlessly.
+"The indictment! The evidence! How he managed to escape and disappear and survive all this time, long after we eliminated everyone else in my employ who fled New Sydney afterwards! Even how he managed to infiltrate the Syndicate and get as close to me as he did!" Faro shouted, so many pieces of so many puzzles coming together within the confines of his mind.
+"Uhh . . . " came the dense and dim reply of Zerik, who clearly hadn't put the pieces together as well or as quickly as Keevan had.
+"It all makes sense now," he said, sitting down on the table across from Zerik, as he allowed Seya to tend to his wounded hand. "We knew someone had betrayed the Syndicate, but we didn't know who because so many of our lesser involved associates fled after word of the indictment. We eliminated everyone but that card shark and smuggler, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and when we heard about his ship being found adrift near Tholian space a few weeks later, everyone presumed he was dead, too." Faro explained to his half-witted friend.
+"I don't understand how he got so close, though," Seya said from his side, "The Syndicate has contacts in Starfleet, even in Starfleet Intelligence. They haven't been able to infiltrate us since before the Dominion War, at least, not with any success."
+"Not that we know of," Faro replied, a distant, distracted look in his eyes, as his mind theorized potential scenarios and possibilities. Finally, one occurred to him, " . . . Bilby."
+"What?" Seya queried, not understanding what Keevan meant.
+"Bilby," Faro repeated. "he was a low-level associate that worked for Raimus off of Farius." he explained. "When the Klingons got the jump on him a few years ago, and then that mechanic of his vanished, we always thought . . . " Faro trailed off, lost in thought for a moment, his mind going at warp speeds. "We know Hawthorne isn't a part of Starfleet Intelligence, every time they've tried to infiltrate us over the past five years we've been able to sniff them out. But what if . . . " Faro trailed off once more as his mind worked faster than he could formulate explanations, "What if he wasn't Intelligence? What if he was just some regular officer? Someone outside their entire division, someone our sources wouldn't be able to help us identify . . . "
+"So he's just some peta'Q regular officer? No formal training?" Seya asked, almost insulted by the inference that someone like that could so capably fool them.
+"He has to be," Faro replied, ignoring his own annoyance at the prospect of having been so well duped by someone without proper training or experience "Just a regular officer . . . " Faro repeated, a plan suddenly forming in his mind, " . . . a regular officer, whose exact location, we now know." Faro said, the same sinister smile as earlier forming over his face.
+"Which means we can . . . 'deal' . . . with him properly." Seya surmised, thinking the same thing as Keevan, and pleased at the thought.
+"Indeed," Faro replied simply. "Zerik," he began, as he looked to his bulbous aid, "get the warp engines back on-line, and then set course for the Typhon Expanse, best speed. I need to send a message . . . " Faro said, grinning at the prospects of what lay ahead.
+"Right," Zerik replied, not really having followed what had just been explained.
+"You know," Seya began as Zerik departed, "we have some time, it'll take us days to get to the expanse . . . I wonder what we could do until then?" she said, seductively inferring her own thoughts.
+"I'm sure we can think of something," Faro replied, feeling far more amorous than he had earlier, considering what he now knew. "Before play though, I have some work to do. Hand me a padd, will you? I feel the need to . . . compose something."
+"Compose? Music?" Seya replied as she searched for the padd she had beaten Zerik with, "You haven't composed anything in over a decade, my love." she reminded him.
+"True, but I feel . . . stimulated. It's not every day, after all, that you find yourself so well blessed with knowledge as this." he explained.
+"What in the galaxy would you want to compose at this particular moment?" Seya asked, jovially.
+"Something befitting the day, my dear. Something special for our dear friend Hawthorne."
+"For Hawthorne? What could you compose to fit him?" Seya questioned as she found the padd in question and offered it to Faro.
+"A Requiem, my dear," Faro replied, as he accepted the padd, "A requiem for all our troubles . . . "
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter26>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 26: Worried Doctors**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Corridor section beta-6, deck 12, USS Republic**
+"Damn, I'm happy to be in sickbay again!" Doctor Harris said jovially as she walked through the corridor alongside of her colleagues, Doctors Cromwell and Yezbeck. "I didn't mind being on the bridge, but I'm not the most diplomatic person in the Federation."
+"We know," Leon smiled with amusement, choking back a sly comment.
+"At least you have some bridge experience now," Yezbeck commented. "Think you're ready for command school?"
+Harris laughed out loud. "I think that's way down the road for me. Besides, I wouldn't want to tread over my chief medical officer."
+Leon gave her a raised eyebrow, surprised that a woman with her leadership talents would be worried about insulting him.
+"That's probably a good plan," he remarked. "If command school is as difficult as this bridge officer's course I'm taking, you'll need the extra time to prepare."
+----
+**Location: Main sickbay, deck 12, USS Republic**
+In sickbay, there's more equipment to be tested and calibrated on a daily basis than in most other areas of the ship, engineering excluded. Even with the light work schedule of the crew while in port, it is necessary for personnel to tend to these daily activities in order to keep the medical department in top shape.
+As the grey-haired Doctor Eliza Fernmoore stood at the main ward nurse's station, her attention was turned to the computer console where she was entering data from a handheld padd.
+"Computer," she beckoned. "Activate EMH."
+Within moments, a whisper sounded where a holographic human figure appeared in a blue Starfleet uniform. The black curly hair and blue eyes were not a mystery to most people who saw it, as the computer-generated automaton bore the face of the famous Doctor Bashir from Deep Space Nine.
+"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," it asked with a smooth, British accent.
+"No emergency," the elderly Starfleet lieutenant commander replied. "Just a fresh software upgrade."
+"I understand."
+"Now, I'm going to download this first file into your . . ."
+Horizontal lines of static began to dance across the hologram's figure, creating a hissing sound that became ever louder as the interference got worse. With a frown, Fernmoore turned to the EMH just as it faded away.
+"Oh no," Eliza said with disappointment. "Not again."
+At about the same moment, the main doors to sickbay opened, and the trio of head doctors walked into the ward engaged in conversation.
+"That reminds me," Doctor Cromwell said to Harris. "The hearing is in two hours. Are you going to join me on the observation floor?"
+Shannon shook her head. "I just can't, Leon. If John's going to be taken into custody, I don't want to watch it. His pride and dignity are too important to me."
+"Come on," the chief doctor replied with annoyance. "It's not every day that you see half of a starship's senior staff on trial." The truth was that Leon was worried about Carter, Forrest, and Hawk, and he didn’t want to watch the hearing without the support of a friend.
+"Besides," Doctor Yezbeck jumped in. "You could use some time off the ship. You've turned Leon and I down three times to visit the station's restaurant district for lunch."
+"Yeah," Leon agreed. "You've been working too hard."
+"Sorry, gentlemen," she declined. "With all the worry I've gone through over this hearing, the only thing that helps is if I keep busy. The stardrive section infirmary needs inspection after the upgrade. If you need me, I'll be there."
+"How about you, Saal?" Leon turned to Doctor Yezbeck. "You want to join me?"
+"No can do, boss," he replied. "I'm just here to get my PADD. I have an important appointment on the station."
+"That's great," Leon raised his arms in frustration. "I'll be the only one from my staff that watches this ridiculous hearing."
+As Saal and Shannon walked out the door together, Leon looked across the room at Doctor Fernmoore. She appeared frustrated while she worked the computer at the nurse's station.
+"What's the matter, Eliza?" he asked, walking across the room to her.
+"It's this EMH. It's on the fritz again. Virtus told me he fixed it before he left the ship, but it's acting up again. It just stops working for no apparent reason."
+"That IS a problem," Leon exclaimed. "What were you doing when it went out?"
+"Just a software upgrade," Eliza replied.
+"Better send that upgrade back to the Corp of Engineers and ask for a new download. There's probably a glitch in it."
+"Yes doctor."
+As Doctor Cromwell headed for the door, he called out and said, "If you need me, I'll be at the hearing."
+When the door closed after Leon, the whisper of an activating hologram sounded once again.
+"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," it asked. In response, Doctor Fernmoore let out a sigh of exasperation.
+"What's the use?"
+----
+**Location: Captain's ready room, USS Republic**
+"95% efficiency is nothing short of a small miracle." Captain Roth laid the system status report aside and looked over her Chief Engineer from head to toe. "I would like to assign you someone for interdepartmental training, just a part time basis."
+"Okay, anyone."
+"Well Commander, about him . . . you're going to need a lot of patience," she hesitated for a full second, "and him with you."
+"I recon I know who you mean."
+"As you know Lieutenant Hawk has had a difficult period. We're hoping to help him adjust."
+"No worries, captain. He and I have spoken a few times. Someone the likes of Nate Hawk isn't capable of getting my goose," he then averred, "no, on the contrary. I think we'll have a decent and therapeutic relationship in no time."
+Captain Roth was amused and more than a little incredulous at the blind faith of her Chief Engineer.
+Roth tried to protect him from future embarrassment. "You wouldn't be the first to feel uncomfortable with the task of working with him."
+"It'll be great."
+Roth admired his leadership skills. It wasn't going to be a walk in the park and he knew it. She handed him a padd detailing Hawk's recent activities. "This report doesn't leave this room, so please take a look at what you're up against."
+As he read it his calm expression occasionally broke into one of surprise. When he was finished he coolly returned the padd to the captain.
+"Care to recant?" Captain Roth smiled.
+Burke now seemed a little more subdued. "No, Captain, that's the story I'm sticking with. For better or worse."
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter27>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 27: Opening Arguments**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Conference room 6, Starbase 39 Sierra**
+Judge Robert Phillip Wade entered the lounge, his black robe surrounding him like a wraith-like skin. He’d always been curious that of all the traditions associated with his office, this one was the one that was still held to the strictest. Seated around the room were the players in the drama about to unfold.
+A tall, dark Vulcan sat at the defense table. Wade had always found Vulcans to be a bit intense but they rarely made mistakes and never had emotional outbursts. A thin Human dressed in a well-made dark suit sat at the prosecution table, and ran his finger along his eyebrow, in a gesture of vanity or nervous habit.
+“All rise,” interrupted the Bailiff, the only person in the room of Starfleet personnel, dressed in uniform. “The People vs. The Honorable Robert Phillip Wade, presiding.”
+The entire room rose to their feet, the defendants standing at attention. The prosecutor stood alone, a sly smile on his face.
+“Be seated,” spoke Wade, his clear tenor taking command of the room. “Just to clarify this is just a preliminary hearing. The prosecution is here to present its case and evidence. The defense will then present its case. I needn’t remind you that this is a Federation court and the typical methods applied through Starfleet will not be used. With that said, I expect professionalism and courtesy throughout this hearing.”
+Wade watched the players, trying to read them, trying to gain insight on those in his court. He knew his methods were a bit odd but they served him well. In a preliminary hearing a lot depended on the people involved.
+Tuvok, the defense council, sat calmly, no sign of anxiety or tension. Of the rest of the defendants, they seemed a mixed group, it was easy to determine who were the Starfleet personnel, despite the lack of uniforms. For the most part, they remained calm and at ease. The civilians amongst them; the colonists of Cestus III, had looks of worry and concern. All that is, but one. Arthur Cromwell had the look of a once proud man, now filled with some sadness.
+"Let's begin with opening statements," the judge declared, turning his head to meet with Cole's eyes. "Counselor for the prosecution?"
+"Thank you, your honor," the well-dressed investigator replied, standing up from his seated position.
+"This is a case of individuals wielding the power of both their occupational positions and mob rule to take the law into their own hands to the detriment of civilized society."
+Cole walked in front of the prosecutor table and immediately took center stage of the court, using hand-gestures and subtle yet dramatic poses to accentuate his statements.
+"No doubt," he continued. "The Cestus Three incident of stardate 57502 will go down as a dark period in Federation history, as thousands of lives were lost, and Federation territory was brutally wrenched from our borders. However, unlike most border conflicts, the end result was not the complete fault of the tense relationship with our Gorn neighbors, but the irrationality, ineptitude, and willful desperado acts by the individuals presented before us today."
+Spreading his arms in the direction of the defense table, Cole identified those he accused.
+"Arthur Cromwell, a retired Cestus Three manufacturing foreman, took the arrogant role as terrorist leader of a rebellious group known as 'Shadowforce'. This group of vigilantes, instead of following article forty-seven of the Articles of Interstellar Law, which state that only government representatives of two opposing sides in conflict are authorized to negotiate terms of engagement, took up arms against the Gorns who, I must point out to the court, had taken not one Federation life in their military operation until Shadowforce's interference.”
+Cole turned on his heel and continued to pace in the other direction.
+“Their murderous acts caused the death of several hundred Gorn soldiers, who in their culture, saw the heinous crime as an escalation of combat that invoked 'First Blood' -- the Gorn axiom wherein, if confrontation crosses the threshold into loss of life, then complete and total war can be declared where any individual of either side has been slain. If Shadowforce had not killed those soldiers, the Gorns would never have slaughtered any citizen of Cestus Three.”
+Cole waited a moment, sure that he had the judge’s attention, then continued. "Another sad violation of Federation Law came from Jonathan Theolonius Carter, who, instead of following the orders of his commanding officer, who had directed him and a security force to land on Cestus Three to contact the government in hiding, chose to join and assist Mister Cromwell's group of perpetrators. Furthermore, not only does Mister Carter share in the crime of mass slaughter of Federation citizens, but his inhumane release of sensor data from a Federation starship showing the death of his former captain to the mass media showed complete disrespect to the Marshall family, disdain and possibly even jealousy towards his commanding officer, and total disregard to protocol and Federation statutory law in regards to public media licensing for non-biased news coverage.”
+Sitting in on the proceedings as an observer, Leon Cromwell felt his heart begin to sink as he heard the mountain of charges leveled against his crewmates. As Leon listened intently, Cole continued his oration.
+"Finally, the third co-conspirator in this treasonous act of aggression and lawlessness, who is not present on this day, yet is a defendant in this case, is Victor Xavier Virtus. This individual not only shares in the crimes of the previous two defendants due to his co-operation with Mister Carter and Mister Cromwell, but violated the rule of law by the illegal tampering of public property that resulted in abandonment and loss of Federation lives and territory to a foreign government. If this had been any other government entity than our proud United Federation of Planets, a crime of this magnitude would result in the death penalty.
+"For the crimes of second degree murder, treason, reckless endangerment of Federation lives, conspiracy to commit an unlawful act, and tampering of public property, we seek life imprisonment for Arthur Cromwell, Jonathan Carter, and Victor Virtus. In addition, due to being willful accessories to these crimes, the prosecution seeks the minimum of a twenty-year imprisonment for Nathanial Hawk, Douglas Forrest, Weyland Hirsch, Chester 'Skip' Mannfield, and Lindsey Davenport.”
+Cole turned again to face the judge with an almost predatory sneer. “We will defer to the court’s judgment on whether other individuals should be charged, such as the security and engineering crew of the Republic, as well as the Hazard Team that accompanied Mister Carter's away team."
+As Cole finished his statement, he looked to the defense table with a very stern and sober expression before looking back to Judge Wade.
+"Please, your honor. Those killed in this terrible incident deserve justice. Look into the eyes and souls of these defendants, and listen to the voices of the dead who would still be alive today if it were not for the criminal acts perpetrated by these individuals. Thank you."
+He cast one more glance at the Tuvok and the defendants as he returned to his seat at the prosecution table.
+As Cole sat, Judge Wade looked on to Tuvok who would represent the defense. “You may proceed, Mister Tuvok.”
+With measured, Vulcan precision, Tuvok rose to his feet, his dark Vulcan robes a stark contrast to the business-like attire that the rest of the defendants wore. “Thank you, Your Honor,” he bowed slightly. “The defense does not dispute any of the events that Mister Cole has just characterized so... colorfully. Those events did indeed occur.”
+From Tuvok’s right, the voice of Nat Hawk interrupted the Vulcan’s remarks. “Jeezus, c’mander! I thought you were on our side! Why don’t y’all just give ‘em the rope?”
+Immediately, judge wade pounded his gavel, still the ancient symbol of justice for the UFP on the table top that served as his bench. “Order! Mister Tuvok, please remind your clients that there will be no reference to Starfleet rank during these proceedings.”
+“As you wish judge.” Tuvok answered.
+The judge meanwhile, looked straight at Nat Hawk. “And Mister Hawk. I don’t care if this is only a hearing. You will NOT interrupt these proceedings again, or I will find you in contempt. Is that clear, Mister Hawk?” From Wade’s expression, his last words were more statement than question.
+“Crystal, yer Honor, sir.”
+On the bench, Wade rolled his eyes then waved a hand in front of himself. “Proceed Mister Tuvok.”
+The Vulcan cleared his throat. “As I said. The facts of the case are not in dispute. The colony of Cestus Three was invaded by forces of the Gorn Hegemony. Members of the colony did use force against their occupiers, and Mister Carter as well as the rest of his away team were present on the planet surface.”
+Tuvok paused briefly, for while he was a Vulcan, and trained to conceal his emotions, Tuvok was also a keen student of human nature, and understood the usefulness of theater to sway an observers opinion. “However, the defense will demonstrate that there were other forces at work of which Mister Cromwell and his civilian comrades as well as Mister Carter and his teams were unaware.
+Said forces did in fact willfully break the Treaty of Metron, causing the loss of the colony, and also caused a catastrophic breakdown in the chain of command onboard the starship Republic, that left my clients not as gleeful murderers bent on revenge, or jealous cowboys looking to tarnish a man’s reputation, as the prosecution would have you believe. Instead the defense will demonstrate that my clients did in fact use every means at their disposal to uphold the laws of the United Federation of Planets. Misters Cromwell, Carter and Virtus, along with the rest of the defendants in fact worked to save not only the colonists of Cestus Three, but also the nine hundred forty-seven souls, both Starfleet and civilian onboard the starship Republic.
+“Your honor. My clients regret the loss of life that circumstances forced them to witness. But more than that, they regret that the power of one organization has grown so much that it saw the citizens of Cestus three not as members of the United Federation of Planets, but as pawns in a mysterious and illegal power-grab that would have used the men, women and children on the colony as well as Republic as so much grist for the mill. Faced with such injustice and overwhelming circumstance, the defendants would have no choice but to take said actions again. Indeed, justice would demand it, as justice will demand that you find them innocent of all charges.”
+"Mister Cole, you may call your first witness."
+"Thank you your honor. The state calls Miss Lindsey Davenport to the stand as a hostile witness."
+Biting her lower lip, and a determined look in her eye, Lindsey swallowed as she stood up and made her way to the witness stand. As she approached, Puruves, the young black haired paralegal who accompanied the judge from Earth, stood up with a leather-bound copy of the Federation constitution.
+"Raise your right arm," he beckoned. As she complied, Peruves recited the well-rehearsed line that he had spoken countless times.
+"Under penalty of perjury, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
+"I do."
+"Miss Davenport," Cole slyly walked up to her. "How long have you known Mister Cromwell?"
+"Twenty two years. He was present as my first child was born and became godfather to him."
+"I see. Then you would say that you are very close to him?"
+"I would."
+"Have you ever known Mister Cromwell to lose his temper?"
+"Objection, your honor. Leading the witness," said Tuvok, standing up at the defense table.
+"Your honor," Cole retorted. "If you please, the rules for a hearing does not require the state to do nothing more than determine that a crime has been committed. An understanding of Arthur Cromwell's personality is vital to this."
+"Overruled, Mister Tuvok. Please answer the question, Miss Davenport."
+"Yes, " she said reluctantly with a cold stare at the prosecutor.
+"Would you say he has a pattern of losing his temper under extreme circumstances?"
+"Extreme circumstances never have a pattern, Mister Cole."
+"Then perhaps I can show you." Walking to the prosecution table, Cole picked up a PADD and began to read it out loud to the court.
+"The state would like to present exhibit A, the police record and public minutes from various meetings of the Cestus Colony council forum. Two years ago, Mister Cromwell was arrested and later released for disorderly conduct at a local tavern. The dispute dealt with a bar patron who rebuffed and insulted the defendant regarding Starfleet's movements along the Gorn border. Five years ago, during a meeting of the colony council, Mister Cromwell was quite vocal about his anger towards the government regarding security arrangements for the system. He was escorted from the chamber shouting remarks such as (and I quote), "You bastards have no idea what you're doing . . . I'm right and you're wrong . . . if you don't listen to me, they'll be hell to pay . . ."
+Looking back towards Lindsey, Cole remarked, "from the evidence, Miss Davenport, I'd say that Mister Cromwell has a history of not only losing his temper, but forcing aside other peoples' views to promote his own opinions."
+"But you don't understand!" Lins shouted out loud. "Those situations were unique!"
+"Exactly," he snubbed. "Just as unique as a Gorn invasion."
+"But . . ."
+"No more questions your honor."
+Judge Wade looked cautiously to the Defense's table. "Your witness Counselor Tuvok," he said simply.
+The dark skinned Vulcan rose and looked for a while toward Lins, who fidgeted slightly in the witness box. "Thank you Your Honor," Tuvok said in measured tones, "but we have no questions for this witness at this time. I do however reserve the right to recall."
+Wade nodded. "Understood Counselor." The judge gave a polite nod to Lindsey. "You're done for now Miss Davenport. Thank you."
+Lins nodded and quickly slipped out of the box to seat herself back in the gallery. Before she was even seated, Cole stood again.
+The state would like to call to the witness stand, Arthur Cromwell, as a hostile witness." After the pledge of truth, Arthur slowly slipped into the witness stand, looking spitefully at Cole.
+"Would you please tell the court what happened on the first evening of the Gorn invasion?"
+"I was at home with my wife. The next thing I knew, the Gorns were performing tactical strikes on government buildings. After they took our government officials hostage of course."
+"I see", Cole nodded pacing slowly in front of Cromwell. "So they just rained down destruction from orbit, with no warning what-so-ever?"
+"They transmitted a surrender order over all communications frequencies." Arthur closed his eyes briefly as thoughts of his family went through his mind.
+"But isn't it true that the order to surrender came well BEFORE any seizure of land by the Gorn forces?"
+Cromwell looked petulant in the box, almost like a pouting child. "I'm sorry…counselor but…I don't recall."
+Cole stopped, with his eyes fixed on Cromwell's face. "Really?" Cole said with sarcasm. "Horrible, snaggle-toothed lizards…'Rexes', you call them, don't you…"
+"Go to Hell." Crowell cursed, just under his breath.
+"…demand the surrender of your planet, but you aren't sure when that happened?"
+Tuvok shot to his feet, but there was little emotion in his voice. "Objection, your honor. Argumentative."
+Wade nodded. "Sustained." He then turned to look at Cole. "Tread lightly Mister Cole. And while we're on the subject of manners, I suggest we call a Gorn a Gorn."
+Cole nodded. "Of course, your Honor. I'll re-phrase." Cole turned and looked back at Cromwell. "Are you quite sure of the sequence of events that day, Mister Cromwell? That the attack started BEFORE the surrender request?"
+"Damned right!" Arthur shot back.
+"Objection your Honor," called Tuvok, "Question has been asked and answered."
+Wade nodded again. "Indeed." He waved his hand in front of him. "Make your point Mister Cole."
+In the gallery, Nat Hawk elbowed Carter. "That's two for the good guys. Lookin' good so far."
+Cole stepped back to the table for the prosecution and picked up an isolinear chip. "The prosecution would like to enter People's exhibit B. Sensor logs from the Cornucopia settlement communications hub. The colony's own logs clearly show that the broadcast to surrender was sent at 1930 hours, local time. A full 30 minutes before any Gorn troops set foot on the planet."
+Cole looked over his shoulder at the frustrated Cromwell. "Do you recall now, Mister Cromwell?"
+Again, Tuvok shot to his feet. "Objection. Badgering."
+Wade nodded again. "Sustained," then the judge looked squarely at Cole. "There's no jury to impress here Cole," he cautioned. "Just me. Lose the theatrics please."
+Ever respectful, Cole nodded. "Of course, your Honor." Cole turned again, leaning slightly against his desk. "Tell me Mister Cromwell. When the Gorn did… eventually… land on Cestus three, what did you do then?"
+"I sent my wife and daughter to the mountain caves where others were gathering."
+"Gathering for what, Mister Cromwell? Official records show that the Gorn internment camps were clean, humane, and otherwise benevolent. Why didn't you and your family just surrender and wait out the conflict?"
+"We had no idea what the Gorns were up to. They could have been executing people in those camps."
+"So, instead of finding out for yourself, you sent your family away and went on the offensive?"
+"Damned right I did. It was my home, and I wasn't going to let the Gorns take it from me."
+"And exactly how did you keep them from taking your home?"
+"When they came to haul me away, I considered it a violation of trespassing laws and defended my home."
+"Don't you mean you attacked them?" Cole asked with a snort. "Don't you mean you killed them?"
+Tuvok remained motionless for the moment…content to let the conversation play out.
+"I know what I meant!" Cromwell answered. "They had their chance to leave my property. I used stun grenades and electric fields to keep them away."
+"And then?"
+"And then," Arthur proudly stated. "When they refused to go away, I made sure they wouldn't take my home from me."
+"And exactly how did you ensure that?"
+"I destroyed my home."
+"You certainly did, Mister Cromwell." Cole added with a sneer. Then he presented another chip for the record. "The state would like to produce exhibit C: an application for obtaining a controlled substance; that being approximately one half-liter of antimatter. The use for which was declared as personnel orbital spaceflight. But that didn't happen, now did it Mister Cromwell?"
+Arthur crossed his arms. "I chose to exercise my rights under section ten of the Articles of Federation." Cromwell enjoyed the raised eyebrow that accompanied his words. Even young Federation citizen knew their rights, and most important among them was the protection against self-incrimination that was built into the Federation's core documents. Protected by Section 10, No one could make Arthur Cromwell talk.
+Tuvok nodded his head slowly, happy that Arthur listened during the pre-trial meeting.
+"That's okay, Mister Cromwell, because the Republic's sensor logs can answer that for the court. Exhibit D, your Honor, details what happened next: an antimatter explosion that not only incinerated the Cromwell home, but every home in a ten block radius as well as the platoon of Gorn soldiers who arrived to apprehend the defendant."
+"I was protecting my home."
+"Oh, were you?" Cole spun around to face Arthur. "And exactly what did you do that brought the Gorns to you home?" The elder Cromwell did not respond and only glared at the counsel. "Well, Mister Cromwell?"
+"You can't bait me like I was a school boy. I refuse to answer that question."
+"Exhibit D should clear things up then: the Gorn communications log from 2100 hours that evening."
+Cole pressed a button on his PADD, and the court's loudspeaker came alive with Arthur Cromwell's voice.
+//"This is Arthur Cromwell in the South Cornucopia residential complex. I have information on the whereabouts of Cestus Colony Governor Clarke. I would like to discuss a mutual trade of information for my freedom."//
+Whispers were shared among the observation floor where Leon closed his eyes in disbelief. The sudden revelation brought surprise to the face of the defendants, but their counsel remained calm and confident, as any Vulcan would.
+In the gallery, Nat Hawk was somewhat less sedate. "Aw, frinx!"
+"The prosecution submits that Mister Cromwell, in a pre-meditated assassination plan, lured the Gorn to his home and brutally slaughtered them with a substance that was obtained under false pretenses."
+Marching back towards the prosecution table, Cole concluded his interrogation of Arthur.
+"No more questions, your honor."
+Wade noted the look of smug satisfaction on Cole's face as the prosecutor sat down. Maintaining the decorum he thought any judge should project he simply turned his head to address Tuvok. "Your witness counselor."
+With practiced calm and focus, Tuvok rose. "Thank you, your honor." The Vulcan advocate took two steps toward his client. "Mister Cromwell," he said coolly, "Are you familiar with Federation by-law 1789?"
+Cromwell nodded. "Yes, I am."
+"And what does that by-law state?"
+"Objection." Cole said coolly. "As Mister Cromwell's actions clearly show, he is far from an expert on Federation Law."
+Wade snorted, annoyed. "Point taken, Mister Cole, but you really should stand when addressing the Bench. Sustained."
+Cole nodded. "Noted your Honor."
+Wade looked at Tuvok and continued. "You may want to re-phrase that, Advocate Tuvok."
+"Indeed." Tuvok replied. "Mister Cromwell, did you think you were justified in the actions you took against the Gorn?"
+"Of course."
+"And was there a reason you felt this justification?"
+"By-Law 1789." Cromwell added with a smirk as he winked at Cole.
+"And what is your understanding of that law?"
+"Objection, your Honor," Cole said, careful to stand this time. "Speculation."
+"The question has direct bearing on my client's state of mind, Judge. Therefore, to him it is not speculation, it is fact."
+Wade almost chuckled. "Nicely put, Tuvok. Let's hear it."
+"The law gives me the right to defend my home using whatever force I deem necessary."
+Tuvok nodded. "The defendant is essentially correct. By-law 1789 states that in the absence of Starfleet, or any other duly appointed protective organization, Federation citizens are allowed…"
+Wade cleared his throat. "Mister Tuvok, I think I know what the law states. You've made your point."
+"Thank you, your Honor." Tuvok said with a nod. "Mister Cromwell, what did you think was happening when the Gorn began to land their troops?"
+"I thought it was an invasion. I thought we were at war."
+"Just as you should have." Tuvok intoned.
+"Objection!" Cole shouted.
+"Withdrawn." Tuvok said with the barest hint of emotion. "There was no Starfleet presence in the system?"
+"Not as far as we knew. That's why several citizens of the colony decided to form Shadow Force."
+"And just what is Shadow Force, Mister Cromwell, for the record."
+Well, for the record," Cromwell said, "Shadow Force is, or rather WAS, a militia unit. It was decided that if we ever had to defend ourselves, without Starfleet…help, then we should have a plan to evacuate the civilians and keep enemy occupation to a minimum."
+Tuvok turned his attention to Judge Wade, "In full compliance with statute 1789." The Vulcan counsel then turned and stepped calmly back to his table. "Nothing further, Your Honor."
+Wade smiled, not necessarily pleased with the direction of the trial, but more-so because the trial was going to be an exercise in fine litigation on both sides.
+As Arthur Cromwell stepped from the witness box, Wade slammed his archaic gavel on the bench top. "I'd like to thank both advocates for a spirited discussion so far. You may consider yourselves in recess until tomorrow at 0900," Wade cast a weary eye to the heavy doors that separated the conference room from the rest of the station, and the assembled news crews on the other side. "And it goes without saying that you are not under ANY circumstances to discuss these proceedings with the…curious folk outside. The prosecution will resume their argument tomorrow." There was another slam of the gavel. "Dismissed."
+As the room began to clear, Nat Hawk stood and looked at Republic's XO. "So, whadda ya think, Cyclops? Are we winnin' ?"
+"Excuse me?"
+Nat had expected a response to come from John Carter, likely in the form of some sort of brush off or grim comment, in response to his semi-casual, semi-sarcastic question, but instead of what he expected he got something else. Or rather someone else. Which wasn't really to be unexpected, as rarely in life did one get what they expected - unless it was something bad, in which case they usually always got it.
+In this case though it was neither here nor there, as the two words in response had come from someone Nat had never before seen. He knew this for sure because he knew himself, and knew that if he had seen this particular someone at any point in his life prior, he most surely would remember either the best sex he had ever had or the worst rejection-caused hangover he'd ever had.
+"I'm sorry," said the (very attractive) stranger as she took another step into the room, adjusting a pair of duffle bags slung across her should, "I didn't mean to interrupt."
+"May we help you?" queried Tuvok, a subtle hint of caution in his tone.
+"I'm not sure," she said, putting the bags down and retrieving a padd from inside the top of one of them, "I'm looking for Commander John Carter?" she said.
+"Figures," Hawk snorted, disappointed.
+"I'm Carter," Cyclops said, stepping forward, shooting quick look of disapproval to Hawk.
+"Ah, alright, then this is for you," she said, offering the padd.
+Accepting it, Carter found it's contents encrypted - albeit at only security level four, which every non-com from here to Rigel 7 had. Entering his own code, Carter then examined the contents of the document. Hawk watched as his expression altered slightly, going from tense and cautious as it had been for days, to adding a splash of all out irritation. "She's got to be kidding," Carter said under his breath.
+"Commander?" Tuvok queried, falling back into Starfleet mode. Carter's response was to hand the padd on to Tuvok, who made a quick inspection of it before arching his left eyebrow in a stereo-typical Vulcan gesture of surprise, "Curious." was his only audible reply.
+"Somebody wanna fill me in?" Hawk prompted.
+"Hawk," Carter started, "This is Leah Warner . . . our new Director of Public Relations." he said with a hint of distaste.
+"D'rector a what now?" Hawk shot back.
+"You said it," the stranger - Warner - replied in agreement. "Really, I'm just a reporter, I have no idea what the title is all about, but Admiral Janeway thought it sounded good." she explained.
+"You Voyager people don't know how to do anything the easy way, do you?" Carter prompted Tuvok. Hawk could tell Carter had meant the remark to be fairly light-hearted, but Tuvok, in an A-typical Vulcan manner, didn't perceive it as such.
+"I beg your pardon, Commander?" answered the dark-skinned Vulcan.
+"Never mind," he said, shaking his head.
+"I thought we ain't s'posed ta talk ta reporters?" Hawk interjected, not really following what was going on.
+"Who told you that?" Warner asked of Hawk.
+"I did." Tuvok replied, "In my role as legal counsel. It would seem, however, that Admiral Janeway has other . . . ideas."
+"You mean she didn't even consult you?" Carter asked.
+"I have found the Admiral rarely . . . consults . . . when she knows the probable response will be in the negative." Tuvok replied.
+"So, wait, ya don't know her?" Hawk asked Carter, "I mean, you two ain't ole pals 'er somethin'?" he asked of Warner.
+"No, Hawk, we don't know each other." Carter asked, knowing full well why the question had been asked, and letting Hawk know it with his tone of voice.
+"Oh, well then," Hawk said, promptly shifting gears, "It's a pleasure ta meet ya," Hawk said, offering his hand to Warner as his mouth formed a confident, flirtatious smile. When Warner reciprocated with her own hand, Hawk turned the would-be handshake into a chance to charm, and kissed the soft skin of the back of her hand.
+Warner, for her part, smiled, holding back a laugh as she did, "You must be the Hawk I've heard so much about," she said.
+"Oooh, ya mean somebody's been singin' ma praises?" Hawk queried, as he released her hand and yet took a step closer.
+"So to speak," Warner replied, "rather, a friend of mine who was with the 7th fleet during the war told me a few tall tales." she said.
+Like a deer in the headlights, Hawk stopped in his tracks, "Not a reporter friend, I hope?" he asked, hesitantly.
+"Afraid so," she replied, holding back a laugh again, but this time at Hawk instead of at his gesture.
+"Frinx," Hawk muttered, turning away from Warner, rejected before he even got out of the proverbial launch bay. Though Hawk was glum, the scene had done something to perk up Carter's mood.
+"Do I even want to know?" he asked of Warner.
+"No," Warner replied, laughing and shaking her head.
+"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up," Hawk said, "thems was tough times, the war n'all, ain't ma fault."
+"Oh, so, womanizing and jumping from bunk-to-bunk at warp speeds is all the wars fault?" Warner asked, still amused, but not quite as much.
+"Ya even know the stats on a fighter pilots survival rate?" Hawk asked her, at this point getting a little pissed off.
+"Alright, alright," Carter said, stepping in. "Come on, we've got things to do."
+"Phh," Hawk replied, "I ain't got nuthin' ta do. Still relieved a'duty 'board Republic, ma fighter ain't gonna fly til I can find me a genuine twenty-year-old plasma coil, n'frankly any more legal-jargon n'am liable ta start bangin' ma head against a bulkhead."
+"Fine, then why don't you show our guest to her quarters?" Carter suggested.
+"Whadda I look like, some non-com pleeb?" Hawk replied.
+"I could make it an order," Carter replied.
+"Aww hell," Hawk grumbled, rolling his eyes, "I hate you," he said to Carter as he headed for the door. "C'mon then, Miss Priss, lets go." Warner, for her part, exchanged glances with Carter, not knowing whether or not to thank him or complain, before she followed Hawk into the corridors.
+After a long and silent ride upwards through the station via turbolift, Hawk lead the way onto the stations main Promenade, enjoying seeing the starscape after four minutes of turbolift running lights passing by - or rather being passed by. He had planned to stop off for a meal, or at least a drink, but now that was out of the question. He was just about resigned to his fate of spending the next hour locating, assigning, and escorting their newest arrival to quarters when a familiar diamond-like shape caught his eyes out the window.
+"Hawk to Delta Flyer," he said, tapping his comm-badge.
+"Paris here," came the reply.
+"Where ya off ta in such a hurry?" Hawk asked, the tell-tale signs of a departure vector and full impulse speed catching his interest.
+"Distress call, actually," Paris responded, "The station asked your Captain to take a look, and I decided to offer my services."
+"Got room fer one more?" Hawk asked, eagerly.
+"Doesn't Tuvok need you for anything?" Paris questioned.
+"Naw, I've been reduced to cargo hauling," Hawk replied with a smirk at Warner.
+"Stand by then," Paris said.
+"I'm coming too, you know," Warner suddenly said.
+"Hell ya are," Hawk shot back.
+"This is what I'm here for, Lieutenant," Warner replied.
+"Bein' a pain in ma ass?" Hawk asked.
+"Considering how much of an ass you are, that's really gotta hurt." Warner shot back.
+Hawk gave her a stern look, before smiling ear-to-ear, "Alright, fine, ya can come. Just keep outta the way." Hawk said.
+"Paris to Hawk, I've got the all clear from your Captain, ready for transport." came the voice from Hawk's communicator.
+"Make that two ta beam up, Tom," Hawk replied.
+"Two?" Paris asked.
+"A friend a Admiral Janeway's wants ta join us," Hawk replied.
+" . . . O . . . K . . . " came Paris' reply.
+Before another word could be exchanged, the station's promenade was lit-up by the energy of a transporter beam whisking two people away. Seconds alter the flash of a starship entering warp filled the view ports, as the Delta Flyer headed off to the rescue.
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter28>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 28: The Shadow Knows**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: "The Lazy Susan", restaurant district, Starbase 39 Sierra**
+The quiet hum of conversation mixed with the occasional chime of cutlery hovered within the atmosphere of the casual eatery. Although a central circular bar hosted a few restaurant patrons, the rest of the hall contained tables and booths at which a major percentage of customers sat dining amongst themselves. One such corner booth was occupied by a lone guest who sat reading a PADD and enjoying a small plate of potato pancakes. He wore a Starfleet lieutenant commander's uniform with medical blue sleeve piping, and sported a head of thinning black hair with a bald spot at the crown. His black beard and moustache bobbed up and down as he chewed his meal, and as Doctor Saal Yezbeck continued to read his digital notebook, a mysterious person slipped into the booth across from him.
+"Thanks for meeting me again, Shadow," the low, gravelly voice greeted the doctor.
+Saal stopped eating in mid-chew, and slowly turned his eyes to the newcomer. His face bore the expression of a man who had heard a joke one to many times, and was becoming quite tired of it. As the doctor swallowed his last bite, he replied to his new companion.
+"I switched branches a long time ago," Yezbeck answered him. "You can call me by my real name, you know."
+"You'll always be Shadow to me," the man replied with a slight smile creeping across his face.
+"And there's no need for the cloak and dagger business," Saal continued. "I'm not trying to hide my movements from anyone."
+"Yes, but I am," came the sly response.
+"What do you want?" the doctor chose to cut to the chase.
+"I thought I'd fill you in on the Gorn poison you discovered in James Marshall's body."
+Dropping his PADD on the table, Saal's expression changed to annoyance as he put down his fork.
+"Doctor Cromwell and I sent that to Starfleet Medical. How did you become involved?"
+"You should know," the mystery man replied. "The asynchronous isomerism of the poison was more complex than any ever encountered."
+"So? It's still a medical issue. Not an intelligence issue."
+"On the contrary. The poison has more than a medical curiosity surrounding it."
+"I don't know," Saal retorted. "Fifty three permutations makes it a pretty interesting toxicology project."
+"Try four-hundred and thirty-six," the man stated, enjoying the surprised expression on the doctor's face. Without a response from Saal, he continued.
+"Once Starfleet Medical pegged down the biochemistry behind it, they realized it had implications reaching far beyond their expertise and handed the issue over to us. It turns out that the Gorns didn't make it."
+"Then who did?" Saal questioned him.
+"It's origins are Kafarian."
+The doctor's attention was now firmly diverted.
+"Kafarian?" he asked. "The insectoid race? But they're the most peaceful and sociable members of the Federation."
+"Yes, but they're also the most renown biochemists within known space."
+"Why would they make such a toxic bio-weapon? It's not only against Federation law, but violates their own cultural edicts."
+"How much do you know about Kafarian history?" Saal's companion asked.
+"I'm not a historian," he replied.
+"Well then, what do you know about the Xindi?"
+With a furrow developing in his forehead, the doctor looked upward in thought before answering.
+"The humanoid race in the Azati Sector? What do they have to do with the Kafarians?"
+"I see you never paid attention in your academy history classes." The remark caused Saal to roll his eyes. "The origin of the Xindi and the Kafarians are one in the same. Three hundred years ago, there existed six distinctly different species that called themselves the Xindi. Their home world was destroyed in the first Xindi civil war during which one of the six species was exterminated, and the rest of the five species were scattered across the Azati sector. They maintained a peaceful co-existence for the next hundred years until the second Xindi civil war following the end of the temporal cold-war with the Suliban."
+"You lost me," Saal sighed in frustration. "Where do the Kafarians fit into all this?"
+"The original six Xindi species were humanoid, hominid, aquatic, avian, reptilian, and insectoid. The avians were wiped out in the first Xindi civil war, and the reptilians became extinct in the second Xindi civil war, but not before the populations of the aquatics and the insectoids were reduced to only a few thousand members. The humanoids, hominids, and aquatics formed a coalition in the civil war, and became the victors after the reptilians were destroyed. The aquatic species migrated rimward and eventually settled on Pacifica. The aggressive insectoids, as allies of the now extinct reptilians, nearly met the same fate as them if it were not for a small colony on a barren planetoid in the Azati Sector."
+"From the sound of it," Saal remarked. "You seem to be implying that these 'aggressive insectoids' have something in common with the Kafarians. But the word 'aggressive' is not how I would describe Kafarians. In fact, I don't think there's a word for 'war' in the Kafarian language."
+"Apparently," continued the mystery man. "These insectoid colonists were descendants of a crashed Xindi hatchery vessel where the offspring were the only survivors. Because the hatchlings were born after their custodians had long since died, they never knew their racial history, and in an unusual twist of fate, did not harbor the instinctual aggressiveness of the rest of the Xindi insectoid species. It's not known why, but since the insectoid young usually inherit the emotional ingrams of their caretakers through imprinting, the genetic material that encodes their natural aggressiveness never formed. When the lost insectoid colony was discovered after the second Xindi civil war, the colonists were found to be sociable, diplomatic, and extremely peaceful. The decision was made to spare this group of insectoids."
+"That's great," Saal responded. "But Kafaria is over a hundred light years from the Azati Sector."
+"You're right, but I'm not done." Again, Saal rolled his eyes. "The small insectoid colony existed in an environment that was not very hospitable to their species. Although they survived, they were not prospering very well. After contact with the rest of the Xindi race was re-established, the insectoid colony was allowed to relocate as long as it was nowhere near Xindi space. With the help of the newly formed Federation, this small insectoid colony was resettled on the planet now known as Kafaria. Ever since then, they were close allies of the Federation, and their Xindi heritage was long forgotten."
+"Okay," the doctor replied with a sigh. "You've given me a great history lesson. But you haven't explained why the Kafarians would want to create a bio-weapon like this poison that the Gorns used on Captain Marshall."
+"That's where Starfleet Intelligence comes in. The Kafarian government was so outraged by our discovery of this poison's origin on Kafaria, that they requested an investigation into the perpetrators."
+"And?" Saal edged on.
+"And, we've uncovered evidence that the population of a small community on Kafaria may have somehow genetically regressed back to their aggressive Xindi roots."
+"So, why don't you guys just storm in and quarantine the community?"
+"We tried, but when the spec ops troops arrived, the community had deserted. Intelligence indicates that they went off-planet in an Orion cargo vessel. The poison you discovered got into Gorn hands through the black market. We shutter to think who else may have acquired the stuff."
+"You blew it," Doctor Yezbeck remarked without changing his expression.
+The face of the mysterious man switched to a humble appearance, and the bushy gray eyebrows rose in bereavement while he looked to the floor. It was apparent that he agreed with Saal, but did not want to respond.
+"So what does this have to do with me?" Saal asked after a moment of silence. "I don't work for you anymore."
+"True," his companion replied. "But our analysis indicates that the Republic may cross the path of these renegade Kafarians relatively soon."
+"And how do you know this?"
+With a smile, the intelligence officer replied, "the Republic has some links to the Orions that you, nor anyone else aboard, know of at the moment."
+"Care to share how you know this?"
+"No," he replied flatly. "As you like to continue reminding me, you don't work for us anymore."
+"So why are we here talking to one another?"
+"Because," the man replied. "Dragon is back on board."
+"Dragon?" Saal raised his eyebrows. "I haven't seen him yet."
+"That's because he's currently a suspect in the Cestus Three hearing at the moment."
+"You don't seem too worried about that."
+Looking at his watch, the intel operative replied, "I'm not. He'll be fine. I'd be more worried about your boss's father, though."
+"You keep my medical colleagues out of this," Saal said with irritation.
+"Don't worry. I'm only here to talk to you about the Kafarian investigation. Dragon is at the head of it, but I'd like to make sure that if he needs your help, that you'll be there for him."
+"Dragon and I were partners for years," Saal stated confidently. "He knows that if he needs my help, he doesn't have to ask for it."
+"That's all I wanted to hear," the enigmatic officer replied, sliding out of the booth and standing up to face the doctor. "Good luck."
+"I told you," Saal reminded the man. "I don't work for you anymore."
+With a smile and a wink, he replied, "I know."
+As the secretive individual left the booth, Saal shook his head muttering, "I'm getting too old for this crap."
+\\
+\\
+\\
+**Location: Turbolift shaft 7-L, USS Republic**
+"Lieutenant!" snarled Klaus to himself in a sarcastic tone. "Meet me in my office!"
+As the junior officer rode the turbolift alone, he paced a circle along the perimeter in disgust. As normal, his rough, uncombed hair gave him the appearance of a newly-wakened cadet back at the academy, and if it were not for the gold operations-colored collar on his uniform that sported a lieutenant junior-grade rank, the youthful appearance on his face would suggest as such.
+Although Klaus originally joined the Republic's operations department prior to her launch almost a year ago, his rank at the time was a full lieutenant, assistant to the department head. However, his loss of rank six months ago following the destruction of the stardrive section in Kreltan-occupied space left a black mark on his record. This stemmed from an upheaval in the chain of command when an enemy spy made it's way to the command chair when the senior staff was no longer aboard. Counselor B'Rell, a civilian counselor that held a rank equivalent to lieutenant commander, was put in the executive officer's position and began a reshuffling of Republic's senior departmental personnel. Klaus, in the absence of Lieutenant Sullivan, was promoted to the Operations department head at the protest of the rest of the department personnel. Klaus was so proud of his appointment that he obeyed B'Rell and the disguised spy to the best of his abilities. When the ruse was revealed and B'Rell arrested, Klaus was perceived as a collaborated and demoted to his current rank. Since then, he had considered requesting a transfer, but with the reprimand scarring his career, he knew his best shot at redemption was to stay aboard the Republic. Little did he know how deep the scars had dug.
+When the operations department had its officers reassigned upon arriving at 39-Sierra, Klaus saw an opportunity to regain his lost prestige when he found himself the only officer among almost one hundred enlisted operations personnel. Surely Captain Marshall's replacement would see the wisdom of making him department head?
+Then SHE came along . . .
+As Klaus stepped off the turbolift, he approached the corridor section that hosted the operations main office. There were uniformed engineering personnel huddled around the door, and as the lieutenant approached, he noticed that they were putting the finishing touches on the office door. The horizontal brown ID lines located three-fourths the way up from the bottom of the entrance were altered:
+**0827: CHIEF OF OPERATIONS\\
+ENSIGN NARUKO KUGA**
+Klaus sneered in contempt at the change. Thomas Sullivan's name had occupied that spot for as long as he could remember, and although he had no particular allegiance to the re-assigned lieutenant, the fact that it was not his name replacing Sullivan's made Klaus' skin crawl. The engineering personnel, with their task complete, vacated the area on the junior officer's approach. Watching after them as they retreated down the corridor, Klaus let go a breath of exasperation before pressing the entrance buzzer, and as the muffled voice of Ensign Kuga sounded from the other side, the door slid open and the lieutenant warily walked inside.
+Naruko was standing behind her new desk hovering over an open box from where she was unloading various business articles along with personal items to decorate her new workplace. Lieutenant Klaus came to a stop in from of the desk with a look of irritation on his face, and as the two officers faced one another, the poorly-groomed lieutenant spoke with condescension in his voice.
+"Reporting as ordered . . . Ensign."
+As Naruko finished placing the last item out of her box and on to the desk she gave an odd look towards the Lieutenant in front of her. "Have a seat." she said motioning to the chair beside him.
+Klaus, in his irritation, looked at the seat and hesitated. His disdain for the ops chief grew after entering the room, especially after seeing just how young Naruko was.
+'Have a seat'? he thought with a shiver of anger washing over his spine. It was him who should have been on the other side of that desk according to Klaus's reasoning.
+Although in truth, there was no negative energy emanating from the ensign, but Lieutenant Klaus's exasperation was so intense that he mistook Kuga's professional demeanor as a form of mockery. After staring at the chair he looked back towards his new "superior" and refused to sit.
+Trying to sound pleasant as possible, "I would appreciate the next time you address me please called me sir or ma'am, not . . . Ensign." She stated as she sat down in her chair. "If you don't like that you can submit a formal complainant to me, which I'll be more than happy to pass it up the chain of command."
+'So she IS mocking me!' Klaus thought with a sneer. Captain Roth had already talked him down in her office, and he now saw Kuga as adding salt to the wound. They were both against him, trying to get him to request a reassignment. The hatred he was generating wafted across his mind, and although his attitude to both the ensign and his new captain reached an all-time low, he refused to give in to what he perceived as their collective goal. Swallowing his pride, he resolved to finally sit in the chair keeping careful eye on the ensign. 'They WON'T succeed!' he declared to himself.
+"I'm sorry . . . . ma'am." It was clear that Klaus had trouble releasing the words from his lips, but with his newfound resolution to keep his leaders from forcing him off the ship, he chose to tolerate her taunting . . . for now. After all, she was just fresh out of the academy and didn't understand the dangers of deep-space exploration. Anything could happen in the next few months . . . anything.
+"No complaints," Klaus lied to Naruko. "I sometimes forget that Operations has another officer onboard now." Although the words themselves were pleasant enough, Ensign Kuga was not born yesterday and she could note his sour disposition.
+Naruko could already feel the plots of her destruction around her from Klaus, "Right now on the duty roster for operation, we're currently the only two officers fit to run this department. I'm not going to lie to you, that this is my first actual experience at being head of operations, so I will be relying on your expertise for awhile."
+"Of course," Klaus responded. "I'm sure we'll be assigned more officers in due time. But for now," a toxic smile began to grow across his face. "It looks like it's just you and me."
+Naruko wanted to return the smile, but she began to get more scared by Klaus, feeling as if she had fallen into the mirror universe. "By the wishes of the Captain that I do not place you as assistant of chief operations, which I can somewhat understand from your recent history on the Republic." 'This guy is going to be the death of Me.' she thought as she went on with her speech "Since this means the place of assistant is open until I can see someone who is able to handle the position like a true Starfleet officer."
+Klaus nearly exploded. 'TRUE Starfleet officer?' he thought. The anger within him was swelling, and it was now focused solely at Naruko. From his point of view, the inexperienced ensign had no place telling him what a true Starfleet officer was.
+'She wasn't there!' the rage echoed through his mind. 'She had no idea what I went through!' Although the lieutenant's actions during the B'Rell incident were contemptible at best, he could not help but to consider his situation as unique. Despite the fact that he willingly and unquestionably followed the indirect orders of an enemy of the Federation during wartime, thus putting several hundred innocent lives at risk, Klaus felt that his actions were understandable, and that there was no way that either Captain Roth nor Ensign Kuga could justify their treatment of him.
+Nearly gasping, Klaus's face betrayed a slight crimson hue as he maintained his smile. However, it was clear that the expression was forced and bordering on a grimace.
+"Ensign . . . er . . . ma'am, I feel that maybe you and the captain have . . . misjudged . . . my commitment to the ship and crew." Klaus's mind scrambled to find the words that would keep him in some sort of position of responsibility. He wanted Kuga's job -- badly. But it would do no good to demand that it be given to him. On the contrary, it would only serve to kindle the mistrust that the Captain harbored for the lieutenant. Klaus could have cared less about Kuga, as she was only an obstacle to his goal. Still, she had the Captain's ear, and anything he did now would be reported up the chain of command. He had to be pleasant, no matter how infuriating she was.
+'My chance will come,' Klaus thought to calm him. 'She won't last long here . . . not long at all . . . '
+"I would gladly take up any duty that may serve to help you overlook my past behavior."
+"Good." said Naruko giving a brief smile "I'll be placing you on Beta shift in the sensor lab for the time being."
+A snort that turned to a soft cough overwhelmed the lieutenant as he beamed a dagger-filled gaze at the ensign. The sensor lab was the most obscure and perhaps most inconsequential leadership position in the Operations department, and there was certainly no prestige in it. Slowly standing up, Klaus felt the nagging need to vacate the office before he said anything that would land him in the brig.
+"If that's all," he managed to say through gritted teeth. "I'll go take command of my new duty post . . . . ma'am."
+"Dismissed . . . Lieutenant" said Naruko 'Better watch your back Naruko' she said to herself as she watched Klaus leave the room.
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter29>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 29: From Tour Guide to Guided Tour**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+ ". . . the court ends for the day here at 39-Sierra without a statement from the judge, but despite what Starfleet calls this hearing, it has all the feel of a real court-battle. The prosecution brought two witnesses to the stand today, both suspects in the case, and members of the Cestus Three resistance cell accused of inflaming the Gorn invasion force thus indirectly causing the deaths of thousands. The 'Shadowforce-Four', as they have been come to be called, was led by Cestus Three resident Arthur Cromwell, and who took the stand today.
+Leon Cromwell was sitting in his quarters with shoes off and feet up on a footrest as he watched the news of the hearing recorded earlier in the day. The viewscreen flickered alive with images of the defendants coming out of the courtroom, and the flock of observers in the background holding signs that read "Gorns Go Home," "Cestus Forever," and "Republic = Scapegoat". The Tellarite reporter was in the foreground dictating the events of the day, and continued his coverage .
+"As you can hear from behind us, they have gained quite a crowd of supporters, mostly young adults from various university campuses in nearby star systems. The defense claimed they were following Federation by-law 1789 which states any citizen has the right to defend their home, absence of Starfleet or any other duly appointed protective organization, using whatever force they deem necessary. However, in a surprising display of evidence by the prosecution, it was revealed today that Cromwell may have actually tricked members of the Gorn invasion force into a deadly home-made trap. This would, in effect, indicate that the resistance movement on Cestus Three acted offensively rather than defensively thus weakening their case of self-defense.
+"As the hearing reconvenes tomorrow morning, Galactic News Network will be there to bring you all the details . . .
+"Viewscreen off," Leon beckoned to the computer, and it obediently complied as the desk-mounted screen went black. With a sigh of disgust, he sat in his chair staring blankly at the wall. The thoughts that swirled through his mind were of confusion, frustration, and above all, anxiety. His father was quickly becoming a household name throughout the Federation, as was the Republic, and with the numerous text messages blinking their arrival at his com station, Leon could only assume that they were from friends and family who he had long ago lost contact with. The last thing Leon wanted to do was have to explain the situation over and over again to people he barely knew.
+"Enough," Leon mumbled to himself. He slowly began to stand up, and although he had originally planned to go to bed, Leon thought that it might have been better to take his mind off current events. Slipping on his boots and ivory turtleneck sweater, he chose to head to the holodeck with the purpose to continue his studies for the bridge officer's test.
+As he walked along the corridors in deck eight, Leon could not help to notice a group of three engineers gathered in front of a door. It had formerly belonged to Counselor B'Rell, the notorious Bajoran psychiatrist that nearly led the Republic's saucer section to destruction earlier in the year. However, since his departure, it remained empty, even as Doctor Harris temporarily took over his position. The doctor did her work both on the bridge and in sickbay, never concerning herself with the former counselor's permanent departmental office.
+Watching the engineers, Leon could tell that they were finishing up with changing the stenciling on the door. Gathering their equipment, the trio of technicians paid the doctor no mind as they walked away down the to the turbolift. Without another glace, Leon turned his attention to the horizontal brown identification stripe located three-fourth's the way up the door:
+**0872: SHIP'S COUNSELOR\\
+LT CMDR REITTAN TOLKATH**
+"Must be our new counselor," Leon concluded. He was about to continue to the holodeck when the thought occurred to him that this new senior officer would likely have to be a close colleague of his, since medical and psychology are related departments. Diplomacy was not one of Leon's strong points, and he knew it. If the counselor needed a tour guide, surely there was someone else aboard that could do it? Some ensign from the command department, perhaps?
+Leon shook his head. "They can get their own guide," he thought taking one step forward before pausing. "But what am I in a hurry for?" Staring blankly in front of himself, he realized that maybe getting to know the counselor might be a good idea, especially with all the spare emotional luggage he had been carrying for the past year: His father's hearing, the death of James Marshall, and his own flashbacks to the Dominion war were all weighing heavily on his shoulders. As if mentally acknowledging his troubles, the doctor shrugged, stepped back, and pressed the door buzzer.
+Counselor Tolkath looked over his office. A sense of uneasiness lingered, but with all the chaos on the starbase and aboard the starship he couldn't tell if it were from the present or from past phantoms. "Breathe Reittan," he reminded himself. He lay on the floor of the office, closed his eyes and began in a Vulcan meditation exercise his Grandfather had taught him. As his breathing, pulse and other bio-rhythms began to come into sync, Reittan's head began to clear, his empathic abilities became more focused. The external chaos was once more put at bay. As his eyes came open, Reittan moved to his desk and continued looking over the personnel files of the senior members of the Republic; trying to memorize names and faces. As he was losing himself to the Viewscreen the door sounded a visitor. "Come in." the Lieutenant Commander invited.
+The doctor walked in, almost hesitantly.
+Reittan sensed a complex cascade of emotion emanating from the visitor. "Ah, Doctor Cromwell. What can I do for you?" Counselor Tolkath asked as he greeted his guest with a warm smile.
+Leon blinked. For a brief moment, he questioned himself on how this stranger knew who he was, but before saying anything, he answered his own question. "Betazoid," he thought. "Gotta be."
+"I don't know if you've had anyone formally greet you," Leon began. "Especially since the senior staff hasn't met together since we came into port several weeks ago."
+"No, I've only the chance to report into the Captain," the Counselor replied.
+"Well, in that case, let me be the first." Reaching out his hand, the doctor greeted Reittan. "Welcome aboard the Republic, Counselor . . . ." Leon raised his eyebrows, hoping the counselor would fill in the rest of the sentence.
+Taking Cromwell's hand in a firm grasp Reittan stated, "Tolkath."
+"We haven't had a qualified counselor in months," the doctor explained. "It's been difficult with all the stress we've been under, and we're glad to have you aboard."
+"Thank you Doctor Cromwell. You will have to excuse the clutter." Reittan said as he gestured to the nearly spotless room. "Please, have a seat." invited the Lieutenant Commander.
+"Thank you," he replied, sliding into the chair in front of Reittan's new desk. The window behind the counselor accentuated his head and shoulders as the various docking bays and cargo vessels slid slowly past. It was at this time that Leon noticed Reittan's ears. They were, for the most part, human. But he could detect the barest hint of a point on both.
+"Do you have Vulcan ancestry?" Leon asked straightforwardly.
+Reittan smiled; a hint of pride swelled within him. "My paternal grandfather is Vulcan."
+"I had a Vulcan doctor in sickbay, recently," commented Leon. There was the barest hint of regret in his eyes. "Y'lair was his name. One of the best physicians I've ever worked with. We lost him in a mission several months ago."
+The sorrow that Reittan had sensed earlier from Doctor Cromwell was beginning to become stifling. He sensed this wasn't the only loss that this good doctor had experienced, but had not yet faced. But, as all good counselors do, Counselor Tolkath knew he had to let Leon travel this road at his own pace. The Lieutenant Commander was only a guide, and a guide he would be. Sensing the amount of emotional strain and fatigue that the doctor was going through was exhausting in itself. Something had to be done, soon. But, this situation had to be handled delicately. Many aboard the ship had grown disillusioned with the psychology department since the "moron Bajoron" as Counselor B'Rell had been affectionately come to known by many members of the crew who had known him. No one had ever spoken the name aloud to Reittan, but it had been "on their minds." "I can tell this loss wasn't easily overcome," the Counselor stated matter-of-factly.
+"No, it wasn't easy. But then, this ship has lost a lot of good people during the past year. Including a captain. Overall, though, I'd say the crew has handled it well."
+Sensing something inside the doctor wanted desperately to talk; the Counselor decided to continue. "So, tell me a little about yourself. How did you get involved in Starfleet?" Reittan asked, hoping to probe a little deeper.
+"Me?" Leon said in surprise. "Well, let's see." He settled back in his chair looking at the ceiling. "I joined as an enlisted medical technician ten years ago, left to study for my MD on Luna, was hired by Starfleet again as a field surgeon during the Dominion war, and afterwards, got my PhD in Astrobiology before heading out on a science mission at Pacifica. I was called back to Starfleet a year ago."
+At the mention of the war the counselor felt a surge of emotion against the barrier that had been so painstakingly been erected in Leon. "So you were involved in the Dominion war?" Reittan inquired intent on tearing down Leon's barriers that were long overdue for demolition.
+"Yes, that's right," Leon replied. "A field surgeon. Starfleet was short of medical personnel during the war."
+At this point Leon's subconscious cries for help were almost deafening to Reittan's empathic abilities. "I am sure you saw a lot of terrible things there. You surely dealt with an intense amount of loss. Were there any in particular that you remember?"
+Leon felt a sense of nervousness rising in his stomach. Not towards Reittan, but towards the subject they were discussing. The doctor had talked about his experience in the Dominion war dozens of times, but never had he felt like this. It was as though his fear and anxiety about the war, which he had worked years to suppress, were rising within him. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his head.
+"Well," Leon cleared his throat. "There were a lot of patients I lost. I remember one that . . . ."
+The doctor paused in confusion.
+Suddenly, his throat tightened, and tears welled in his eyes. Leon thought that the pain of those days had long since subsided, but the anguish he now felt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. With the sound of blood rushing past his ears, he grasped the armrests of his chair in attempts to hold back his tears. Moments passed where Leon worked to control his breathing, and as he did so, heard Reittan's calm, resolute voice bringing him back to reality.
+"Doctor . . . , Doctor Cromwell . . . , Leon . . . , it wasn't your fault. It was NOT your fault."
+Leon sat in the chair with a surprised expression, as if someone or something reached deep into the emotional recesses of his mind and brought to the surface the merest fraction of his life's pain. As it slowly receded back into the abyss of his soul, he wiped his now red, swollen eyes before looking back at the counselor.
+"How did you do that?" Leon whispered in amazement. "I had no idea those feelings were still with me . . . "
+"Doctor, all I did was to guide you to what you were truly feeling; showed you the pain that you have been trying to hide from for such a long time. Isn't it strange that the walls we form to contain our pain become our prisons, even keeping out those we love. But, anyways . . ." the counselor said curtailing his philosophizing.
+The doctor was impressed, to say the least. Although Leon had visited numerous counselors to work on his post-traumatic stress from the war, he had never experienced a counseling session with an empath before. It was the most unique, introspective experience he had ever had.
+"It's strange," Leon remarked with a smile. "I just came in here to welcome you to the ship, an instead, I get drawn into my own nightmares."
+"We all get drawn into our own life dramas at sometimes the strangest times.'" Reittan said with an experienced grin. I think we should start meeting on a regular basis.
+"Regular sessions?" Leon said with hesitation, "But I don't think . . . "
+"Doctor, I insist." Reittan interjected. "These unresolved issues are not going to go away. It's best if we get your coping mechanisms back into place, with this trial and all," counselor Tolkath said raising an eyebrow in true Vulcan fashion.
+Standing up, the doctor had a quizzical look on his face. "You're an interesting person, counselor. I dare say that you'll make an excellent colleague."
+Reittan escorted Leon to the door, and the two shook hands.
+"Thanks, counselor," Leon said.
+"No problem, doctor. I also look forward to the tour of the Republic. Also, make sure to schedule an appointment for our next visit." Lieutenant Commander Tolkath smiled, waited for the door to open, and turned around and again took a seat at his desk.
+As the door to the office closed, Leon shook his head in disbelief. Although he had not expected to show his personal side in front of a complete stranger this evening, the doctor felt as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Leon proceeded down the corridor to the turbolift, feeling no need to keep his mind busy with holodeck training programs. He felt genuinely tired and no longer on edge. Deep down inside, Leon knew that tonight he would sleep well for the first time in weeks.
+----
+Throughout the Federation, a maze of subspace relays and communication nodes float in the depths of space, carrying with them the burden of a civilization's lifeline. Without the ability to send and receive messages, whether they be audio or visual, an interstellar culture could not expect to survive. Fortunately, the conduits of interchange are not subject to the distractions and maladies which afflict their users, and are ready, able, and willing to do their job without question.
+<WRAP center round box 80%>
+//**Incoming subspace message\\
+\\ \\
+Priority Green-3 (low)\\
+To: Cmdr John Carter, U.S.S. Republic, NCC-76241\\
+From: Lieutenant Cmdr Victor Virtus, Sol three, SB-1\\
+Stardate 57806.5
+\\ \\
+Hello John,
+\\ \\
+Sorry I could not write sooner. Plenty of time, just not for leisure. I hope the trial is going well. There's a pool going. I'm going to win, as I have not advertised my prior knowledge of your capabilities and 'well-developed' sense of ethics. I'll send you 10% of the profits after the whole mess blows over.
+\\ \\
+I apparently missed the Doc by less than an hour. I was coming in from a 'research project' just as he was leaving. Please tell him I said hello, and Maria and the black shirt as well.
+\\ \\
+Keep an eye out for a paper on breakthroughs in warp field resonance and it's effect on matter/anti-matter intermix efficiency. Two hundred percent mass to energy ratios are about to become a thing of the past. Just think of the damage you could cause with an extra nine percent maximum generator output in a tight spot.
+\\ \\
+I'd be happier if I could both claim full credit for the discovery, and that that had been what I was researching, but neither is the case. The discovery was incidental, and made by Lieutenant Tanna Myrr. She earns more medals in a year while sleeping than I have earned in the last ten awake. I'd be jealous if she were not so damned humble about it all. But I won two dinners, a tour of Paris and a rather dog-earned second generation copy of Miyamoto Mushshi's "Fire Rings" translated into Klingon, at poker on the way back to Earth. She's a genius, but can bluff to worth a tribble. My Klingon is so rusty you can hear is squeak over a nacelle at warp 9, but the book is still a fascinating read.
+\\ \\
+Take good care of Captain Roth. She got a raw deal a few years back, as I'm sure you know. I knew her CoE in that snafu, we were at the Academy together. She knows her stuff, but there's a worry that she might second-guess in a pinch. Don't let her. I know how you prefer to blindly follow orders and rarely voice what's on your mind, but these are problems I believe, deep in my heart, that you can overcome.
+\\ \\
+I wish I were going with you, but what I'm working on now 'might' change the way we look at the universe. (Or it might wind up as a bad example in a "How not to ruin your career as a scientist" comedic instructional holonovel.)
+\\ \\
+Look after the old girl for me. She's not sleek and nimble like the Valiant II, she's graceful and dangerous, like that flutist you were dating on Risa. (After the first time you decided to fly too close to a quantum singularity.) Speaking of Risa, have Burke tell you the one about the Horta and the Magnetic Flux Interpolator. I heard it second-hand from one of his old chiefs and I can remember the punchline, but not the build-up.
+\\ \\
+Be careful out there John, you're a pain in the butt sometimes, but a lot of folks would really miss you. If I have to drag you through space/time again, I'll be most cross.
+\\ \\
+My love to Shannon, and warmest well-wishes,
+-Vic
+" . . . look upwards . . . "
+\\ \\
+End Transmission**//
+</WRAP>
+----
+**Location: Main engineering, deck 36, USS Republic**
+"Space is big," Lieutenant Pakita repeated to the new ensign.
+"I don't understand", Ensign Donovan Kreel replied, confusedly.
+Maria sighed. "It's something my last three chiefs said, and I'm just waiting for Lieutenant Commander Burke to say it. It's something that must be a requirement in the secret 'Chief Engineer's Manual'. It's meant to make us junior officers appreciate the enormity of Starfleet's mission, and the importance of the engineering staff in making certain the ship is able to carry out our assignments on a galactic scale."
+Donavon pondered that, and as comprehension dawned within his eyes, Maria's heart soared among the heavens . . .
+"So . . . there's a secret 'Chief Engineer's Manual?"
+. . . before plummeting to bounce off the deck plating.
+"You betcha Ensign. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. So mum's the word. If I hear any such nonsense in the future, I'll deny it under oath, understood?" Maria leaned in conspiratorially.
+The ensign leaned in as well, "Aye aye, Lieutenant."
+"Back to work then, these engines aren't going to maintain themselves. We've got a checklist nine meters long. Both of our transporter specialists are incapacitated, McHenri with Denebian flu and Bri'loth twisted an ankle coming aboard. The Doc did his usual Arcturian voodoo, sacrificed a mated pair of Lusian gekkos, and told him to stay off it for 48 hours. So of course, the number two cargo transporter's showing a Heisenberg anomaly."
+The poor ensign's eyes glazed over again, "I . . . see. The ship's doctor is Arcturian?"
+Lieutenant Pakita mentally slapped her palm to her forehead, while physical nodding in agreement, "Close, he's from Stetson VI in the Bow-vine system. Now get down to Cargo Bay Two and run a level three diagnostic on circuits five through nine. This is the fourth time this week this has happened on second watch."
+Maria winced internally, waiting to see how Donovan would react to the barrage of numbers.
+"Yes Lieutenant! Cargo Bay Two, Level 3 diagnostic, circuits 5 thru 9. Aye aye," he confirmed, nodding and heading for the turbolift.
+The lanky Caribbean girl watched him go with a brief smirk, and glanced around. Finding no one within earshot, she sat down at a terminal, put her elbow on the display and let her chin rest on her fist.
+"Computer." An electronic warble sounded. "Assistant Chief Engineer's Log, supplemental, . . . Ensign Kreel shows promise."
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter30>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 30: Delta Flyer to the Rescue**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: 86th moon of Beaufort IV**
+The small escape pod was almost all covered by snow, there was no chance that the transceiver array would still work tomorrow. The nights were intolerable. With life-support offline, a thermal blanket was little comfort for nights at -50 Celsius.
+Hranok was meditating. Not that it was his way to deal with difficult situations, but he had nothing else to do.
+"This is finally the end", he told himself.
+He survived alone 3 weeks inside the wreckage of the saucer section of the Odyssey, a galaxy-class vessel trapped inside the Gamma-quadrant. He has been captured and tortured in a Dominion Prison Camp. He climbed Mt Milana on Betazed in only two weeks, with three broken ribs. But now, even after only five days, THIS is definitely too much." He knew he was in hypothermic shock, he couldn’t feel his legs. "Well… better die here than ending eating these damn combat rations".
+After he survived the destruction of 15 ships, after the war, he chose to switch from security to science. He wished that he could finish his career, happy, in an untroubled office, if possible with a window or two. He saw himself working in a lab at the Bureau of Temporal Investigation at Nairobi. When you don’t serve on a ship, there’s no chance that it’ll explode. Instead, he joined an officer exchange program with Romulus and served on the Imperial warbird Levek. He was then assigned to various Oberth-class science ships exploring temporal distortions and was chosen as Operation Officer on the most ambitious project Starfleet and the always-mysterious Temporal Bureau of Investigation even created: the U.S.S. Paladin. Hranok never thought that the project could go wrong; everything was planned and set accordingly. Now that the Paladin was destroyed, with obviously no survivors, the Temporal Bureau of Investigation would certainly close. Everything he worked for during the last three years would be destroyed .
+----
+**Location: Delta Flyer**
+With practiced ease, Lieutenant Commander Thomas Eugene Paris, Executive Officer of the Starship Voyager under Captain Chakotay, slipped the agile shuttle of his own co-design from warp. As the stars fell relaxed back to their normal appearance, Tom felt a mixture of emotions he had felt dozens of times before since their return from the Delta Quadrant. Relief, a sense of home, a sense of wonder, and a sense of longing for the days - as hazardous as they where - when the stars where as unfamiliar as they had ever been.
+"Now entering the Beaufort system." Tom reported to the others aboard - the Republic's Helmsman, Hawk, one of the Republic's Medics by the name of Teague, and the considerably attractive stranger - apparently a friend of Admiral Janeway's - that Hawk had brought along. In his day, Tom surely would have made a number of passes at the young woman by now. Being happily married put a damper on that, though. If only out of concern for B'Elanna's temper.
+Around them, and throughout the system, chunks and metal and other miscellaneous substances drifted unnaturally between the various planetoids.
+"This debris is from a Federation Starship," Paris commented. "If the metallurgical analysis is right, from a ship that couldn't have been here."
+"M'Kay, so, which rock we gettin' this call from?" Hawk asked from the Tactical station. He felt considerably out of place and fairly useless anywhere but the Helm, but not only did Tom outrank him, but this was almost literally his ship.
+"Uhm," Paris replied, checking the sensors, "Looks like the 86th."
+"Oh, that helps." Hawk quipped in reply, as they looked out through the cockpit upon the dozens of moons of different shapes, sizes, and classes.
+"That's what star charts are for," Paris replied jovially, looking to his sensor panel, which identified and labeled each stellar body. Plotting a course for the one of their specific interest, Tom indulged himself and activated the Impulse Thrusters, flying the nimble craft on limited manual as they approached their target.
+"What is it with you pilots and dropping the inertial dampers just when your about to do loops and weaves?" Warner asked from the deactivated Engineering station at the aft.
+"Space sick, darlin'?" Hawk queried, mockingly.
+"Only because your here." She shot back with a sarcastic smile.
+"If you two love birds don't keep it down, we're liable to miss our moon." Paris interjected.
+"Hah," snorted Teague from Ops, opposite Hawk.
+"What're you snortin' at, kid?" Hawk questioned.
+"Nothing, sir," replied Teague, stifling his laughter, "It's just, Sickbay is never this fun." he added after a moment.
+"I coulda told ya that," Hawk said, remembering his first day aboard and the liquid-metal surgical suite he'd created at Cromwell's request.
+"Here we are, 86th moon of Beaufort IV." Paris announced, plowing the ship forward into the planetoids minimal atmosphere.
+"Who n'the hell named this system, anywho?" Hawk queried to no one in particular.
+"Scan for that transceiver, Nat," Paris replied, all business for the moment.
+Clumsily, not used to non-navigational sensors, Hawk complied without response. Though it took three scans, the transceivers fading signal finally came back. "Bearin' 024 mark 5, distance, 200 kilometers." Hawk reported finally.
+"Can we get a transporter lock?" Teague asked.
+"I sure hope so," Paris replied, "the Arctic looks more inviting than this place."
+"Just think how the survivors feel." Warner replied, unapologetically.
+"I just meant it'll be a lot easier if we can just beam them up, that's all." Paris replied, defensively.
+"Don't mind her, Tom, she obviously went to a Klingon charm school." Hawk said.
+"Better than Drunken Hick University," she replied, looking off to the windows.
+"One a these days, yer gonna sass the wrong person, missy, an then yer gonna have ta fight with a lot more than words." Hawk suggested, menacingly.
+"Knock it off, you two! We've got a job to do here!" Paris demanded. After a few quiet moments, he couldn't help but feel a sense of irony at being the one to stop the jokes and petty bickering when about a decade ago, he'd been the one behind some similar situations.
+"I've got a life sign, a Bolian, very weak!" Teague reported after another few moments of silence.
+"Can you get a transporter lock?" Paris asked.
+"Uhm," Teague replied, "I've never actually operated a transporter outside of basic." Teague admitted.
+"Lemme," Hawk said, pushing Teague's hands from his console. "Got 'em," Hawk said. From the aft cabin of the Flyer, the faint whine of a transporter could be heard.
+"I'm gonna make another pass, see if I can find more life signs. Otherwise we'll have to land and do a manual search." Paris said as Teague left his post to tend to the survivor. Feeling fairly useless, and seeing Warner following Teague, Hawk decided to follow suite.
+"Hawk, if you don't stop following me, you're really going to earn that nickname 'Death Wish' of yours," Warner advised.
+"Hawk? Nathan Hawk? The Nathan Hawk from the 85th Attack Squadron?" the survivor said, visibly confused. Warner, Hawk and Teague jumped, not knowing that the Bolian was still conscious.
+The reporter smiled at the young pilot. "Well, once again, your reputation precedes you."
+"I know you?" Hawk asked, ignoring Warner's remark, as Teague charged his hypospray with a metadynic fluid.
+"Yeah," he said faintly. "7th fleet, the attack at Kalandra. I was the tactical officer on the Bismarck. We were coordinating together the attack on that defense platform."
+"I saved yer ass!" Hawk exclaimed with a grin.
+"Oh yeah, you did!" the Bolian agreed, coughing, but with a big smile. "That dogfight with the Cardassian raider was really something. We were talking about that for months afterward."
+"Well, now I dun saved yer ass a second time." Hawk said.
+"How modest," Warner remarked.
+"A debt that I’m willing to pay with a bottle of romulan ale if you want?"
+"Heh," Hawk snorted, "Yer gonna need more'an a bottle, just fer me. Not ta mention the rest a the gang."
+"Wait, you where the tactical officer on the Bismarck?" asked Warner curiously. "Boys with big guns aren supposed to wear gold. Why the blue uniform?"
+"I switched to science a few years ago, after the war." he said more seriously, still suspicious about the civilian clothing she was wearing. "And you are?"
+"Leah Warner, FNS," the woman said, not mentioning what she was doing there anyway.
+"A reporter? For me? Wow, I didn't realize I was so special." the Bolian said.
+From the cockpit, Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris appeared.
+"Welcome aboard, stranger," he said to the injured Bolian on the bio-bed. "I just talked to 39-Sierra. We found the debris of the Paladin floating all over the system. Commander Claudel was wondering what happened. The Paladin was commissioned more than 100 lights years away from here…"
+Hranok knew that he would have to answer questions he didn’t want to. He needed a way out. The hypospray injected by Teague made tingle his right arm, he grimaced and kept silent for a few seconds. He was visibly trapped and needed a way to get out. "Who is Commander Claudel?"
+"The Traffic Coordinator of the Sector and Strategic Operations officer at Starbase 39-Sierra," Paris answered.
+"Sorry. I can’t talk about what happened," Hranok said. "I hope you’ll understand. Tell Commander Claudel I’ll brief Starfleet Command myself."
+"Alright, but time is crucial here. We need to know what happened, incase there’s any other survivors." Paris replied, with a mix of curiosity and professionalism In his voice.
+"Believe me," Hranok interrupted him. "There are no other survivors."
+"How can you be sure?" Paris asked.
+Hranok never answered. A reporter, officers he didn’t know… the risk was too high. He just smiled and closed his eyes. He would take care everything on Sierra-39 . . .
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter31>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 31: A Father's Guilt**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Observation room, unit 327, residential level 1138, south complex 72B, Starbase 39 Sierra**
+As usually, the room was dark, and the only available light came from the expansive viewport that unveiled the billions of minute points of light amongst the blackness of space. The scene was quiet. Perfectly still, save the barely noticeable twinkling of the stars and the occasional spaceship either entering or coming out of warp. This was the way Arthur Cromwell liked it.
+His face had grown weary over the past week, but the first day of the hearing robbed him of sleep the previous night, and the dark circles under his eyes were yet another signatory that his mental exhaustion was at a new low. The half empty bottle of scotch sat on the window sill as Arthur stared into the stars, and like his soul, the level of the whiskey had slowly leeched away overnight in despair.
+As he gazed out into the vastness of space with bloodshot eyes, Arthur's jaw clenched slightly at the soft whisper of the door sliding open behind him. He did not turn around to see who it was, for there was only one individual who would break the solitude of this sanctuary.
+Leon silently walked into the room allowing the closing door to signify his presence. More than a minute passed before his father acknowledged him, and by the fact that there was no irritable tone in his voice, it suggested a man who was at the end of his rope.
+"It's ironic," he mumbled. "For over a hundred years, the Federation and Gorns have been at each others' necks. Now, after two thousand dead colonists, including Janice and Ann, the Federation blames not the Rexes, but me."
+He took another sip of whiskey from a short glass he held in his right hand.
+"Worse yet, I'm starting to believe them."
+A knot formed in Leon's stomach as his worry for his father swelled. This was a man he had held in the highest respect as a boy, if not spite as a teenager and adult. Yet now he holds back the anguish of watching him wither into an old man whose heart has lost all hope.
+'It's not your fault . . . it's not your fault.' Reittan's words echoed in Leon's mind from the counseling session he had last night. They were reassuring, and gave him strength to confront perhaps the biggest wound he had ever been forced to endure.
+"Dad . . . you couldn't have known. You were protecting your home."
+"Yeah," he admitted, but feeling no absolution. "But you heard the recording. I lured them there. They might have left me alone, but I lured them and killed them. It doesn't matter that they were invaders."
+"You couldn't have exactly welcomed them with open arms," Leon replied. "Besides, they would have captured you eventually. As far as you knew, they were killing everyone in the city and despite what that jerk Cole says, you didn't have freedom of movement to find out."
+Arthur was taken aback that his son was actually defending him, especially since every domicile in the Federation was having second thoughts about his role in the incident. Still, it gave him no joy, and he only turned around to face Leon with sad, tired eyes.
+"Still, it doesn't matter anymore. Janice and Ann are dead, and everyone else thinks I killed them.
+He tried to take a step towards the door, but in his inebriated state, he swayed, and nearly fell down if it were not for Leon who he grabbed at the shoulder.
+"Easy," Leon said, helping his father to stand up. "C'mon. The hearing resumes in two hours. Let's get you a detox hypo and some breakfast."
+----
+**Location: Commercial Transport Liner "Seaswift II", Starbase 39-Sierra inbound**
+Doctor V. X. Virtus drummed his fingers on the arm of the faux-leather and faux-hardwood chair in his nicely appointed but tiny cabin aboard the Seaswift Two. It'd had been an agonizingly long journey at warp three. Starfleet ships-of-the-line spoil it's crewmen with warp speeds in the five to eight range, causing a sense that anything slower was the equivalent of crawling through space dragging a Class M planet with a ninety-year old tractor beam. Comments like "would it help if I got out and pushed?" sprang to mind.
+Assuming a logarithmic asymptotic warp curve, the closer one gets to warp ten, the closer one's subjective velocity gets to infinity. Thus, warp one being equal to the speed of light as measured by a stationary outside observer, warp three is several times the speed of light, and warp eight is, well, very-very fast. But the true break-throughs in warp field research are now in 'sustaining' high warp velocities. The engineering involved in designing an engine that will maintain warp eight point five or higher for more than a few hours has been long and difficult.
+The good doctor mentally re-ran through his request to the Starfleet Corps of Engineer's Center for Astrophysical Research to be allowed to do 'sustained high-warp' experiments, using the labs, computers and maybe a torpedo or two, on the U.S.S. Republic. SCECAR was more than happy to get him out of the simulator and into the field again, if for no other reason than to prevent him from inciting cadets to riot during debates on trans-warp research.
+The computer chimed, and a melodic woman's voice said, "Time to starbase thirty-nine sierra: one hour and eleven minutes."
+----
+**Location: Counselors office, deck 8, USS Republic**
+Reittan finished his dictating his notes from the doctor's visit, and turned the view-screen away from him.
+"View-screen off." He ordered wiping a bead of perspiration from his face. The computer complied.
+Post-traumatic stress disorders were strenuous to him. It took a great amount of energy and concentration to guide the person, understand their emotions, but not experience them. Depending on the empathic ability, to a novice the task could seem insurmountable because of the intensity of emotion tied to the ordeal.
+The view-screen began flickering, coming to life on its own. "What?!?!" Reittan thought to himself in bewilderment. As the message "B'Rell's a Bajoran Moron" scrolled across the screen, the Republic's Counselor started to grin. "Now that took some imagination and some ingenuity. I'll have to get engineering here to come fix this too." The repercussions of the previous counselor's actions aboard the bridge were most seen in the office. They had been ignominious. "Well, perhaps they'll get to this, after all they don't seem to be getting to the broken down holodecks anytime soon."
+In the back of his mind he heard familiar voices. Just then the door chime sounded alerting him of someone outside the door. Reittan turned his chair to face the sliding door.
+"Come in." he invited.
+At the sound of his voice a visitor outside the door laughed, giggling like a giddy school girl.
+Lieutenant Commander Tolkath couldn't believe his slightly Vulcan ears. "But what was she doing here?" he questioned himself.
+"She is not the only one here. She is just the only one who was too excited to not giggle. But can you blame a mother?" the sage voice of Reittan's maternal grandmother sounded in his head.
+"Well, what are we waiting for? He said come in." Jaren asked aloud to the rest of his party and took a step towards the automated door. Sensing his presence, the doors gave way with a hiss. Reittan's father walked in. Following close behind were an entourage which included his Vulcan grandfather, Terran grandmother affectionately known as "Grams", and Betazoid mother and grandmother known as "Grandmother".
+"How are you, my child?" Reittan's maternal grandmother asked telepathically.
+"Now Grandmother, you know the rules; as much as I'd love to communicate telepathically, we speak." Reittan gently chided her.
+Smiling, the matriarch of the family proudly looked over her grandson in his Starfleet uniform, began picking at it, and said jokingly, "Ooh, look who's teaching who etiquette."
+The Lieutenant Commander warmly embraced each member of his family. When the time for his Vulcan grandfather to receive a welcome arrived, Reittan raised his hand, separated the fingers, and stated admirably, "Live Long and Prosper." His grandfather proudly returned the greeting. He then invited them all to sit down and make themselves comfortable.
+Counselor Tolkath had learned much from his very polarized family; this polarity would save his life. His gift would return the favor, paradoxically, during the Dominion invasion of Betazed. He had come to a balance between logic and emotion that few could appreciate. Genetically a few surprises had happened. Unlike his human/betazoid counterparts, Reittan had full use of telepathy, and could even use touch telepathy. His telepathic abilities and empathic abilities became problematic at times, they seemed overdeveloped; but through his grandfather and father's mentoring him in the teachings of Sarek, Reittan was able to remain stable. Ironically, stoic logic would become a stabilizing boon to Yaxara's and Jaren's son.
+"Who is B'Rell?" Jaren, Reittan's father, asked pointing to a bulkhead that hadn't been completely cleared of graffiti.
+Counselor Tolkath shook his head and the whole story unconsciously quickly cascaded through his mind "It's a long story, which I am sure you don't have time for." When he turned his head towards his mother and grandmother they had strange looks on their faces. He realized what had happened. It HAD been a long time since he lived with other telepaths.
+The conversation ebbed and flowed from one topic to another. Finally Grandmother asked, "What is all this news about the trial? The air is so thick with confusion, chaos, and anxiety that you could almost cut it with a knife."
+"Thank the Four I am not the only one who feels that way." Reittan thought to himself.
+"No you are not." Yaxara spoke aloud unconsciously.
+"A-hem" Grams said, with a wink that pulled the creases around the edges of her eyes together and a smile that could melt even a Vulcans heart. "We are here too."
+Reittan then spent the next hour explaining what he knew of the invasion of the Gorns. Upon the mention of Tuvok's name Reittan's grandfather took special interest. Emotions ran high around the topic from the human/betazoid side while the Vulcans looked interested.
+"Did the Federation learn nothing from the Dominion invasion of Betazed? I am going to march right up there . . . " said a livid Grandmother. Her diplomatic duties had taught her to usually use candor, but because the wounds of the war were so fresh, she had forgotten all tact.
+"It is illogical that a man can not protect his own home . . . What does the Federation have to gain . . . " Reittan's grandfather said, his voice trailing off in thought.
+Jaren stood up, walked over, and leaned up against one of the Republic's bulkheads. Peering out the window at the passing cargo ships and transports scuttling between the Republic and the Star base Jaren stared.
+Reittan paused a moment, then asked hesitantly, "So, what is the verdict with the amendment to the Code of Sentience? Are they going to put a provision for the usage of telepathy in a time of life or death situation?"
+Grandmother looked down at the pale floor. The topic was a sore one for the family. "They are still in debate."
+"Reittan, the incident is behind us. Let us leave it alone." Yaxara pleaded with her son.
+The memory haunted Reittan; he knew he had done what he should have. After all, it was that incident and the Dominion invasion that lead him from being a Doctorate degree holding Psychologist to a Starfleet officer.
+"It was the logical thing to do." Jaren and his father eerily chimed in at the same time.
+"Oh, I'm sure my humanity played into it, too. But, Reittan remember you saved people's lives; that's what is important." Grams reassured.
+Reittan raised his eyebrow. "Praise the Four for such a great family." He paused. " I haven't seen the whole ship myself and was just going to go for a tour. Would you like to join me?" The family answered in the affirmative. The Counselor looked at his family dubiously, "Although, I'll have to make sure to get the proper security clearances; I'm not sure that Grams will pass." Reittan said jokingly.
+With that the family headed out of the counselor's office in lively conversation.
+----
+**Location: Room B-4, residential compartments, deck 13, USS Republic**
+Doctor Virtus looked around his modest new quarters aboard the Republic, and estimated how many steps there were between his door and Main Engineering.
+<WRAP center round box 80%>
+Step 1. Out the door turn left\\
+Step 2. Down the corridor into the turbolift\\
+Step 3. Override security permissions\\
+Step 4. Lift down to deck 36\\
+Step 5. Out the door turn right\\
+Step 6. Convince engineering personnel he was not a crackpot in the middle of a emergency as panels explode and people are falling from gantries and Borg are beaming in and Nat is flying beyond the tolerances of the inertial dampers while John goes EVA hand to hand with a hideous, tentacled beast to protect a beautiful unknown alien race female wearing a strangely see-through shapesuit.
+</WRAP>
+Fifty-six strides walking, four-two at a combat jog.
+"Computer, Doctor's Personal Log. Stardate 57907.2"
+A an electronic warble sounded in response to his voice.
+" . . . I'm home."
+----
+"Chief Engineer's Personal log, stardate 57907.3"
+"I haven't made a diary entry in a while. The last several months have been a blur with every available systems upgrade being put to use aboard the Republic. I'm proud of my team, they chose to skin their knees and bang their heads in the ship's crawlspaces when they could've been on Starbase getting soft.
+"Shen Baowen separated his shoulder helping to unload science equipment that had been abandoned in place. Doctor Cromwell says it looks like he'll be remaining on Starbase to recuperate. So, I set about finding a replacement Maintenance Officer. I'm pretty much decided on promoting a young woman named Rota Sonji to the post. Rota, who's been an operations manager on Farius Prime (Upsilon Andromeda) is in the same boat I was in not too long ago (5 months since I came aboard from Earth–time flies when you're having fun and realigning the warp coils!) She says she makes some strong hasperat. She also mentioned something about with azna with flaked blood fleas. I told her about my string green beans and dried onions recipe and she sounded like she was interested in an exchange.
+"I've tried to teach a few blokes the finer points of Australian Rules Football but they're mostly afraid of getting hurt. I was thinking of holding a footy camp or even surrendering to the rugby enthusiasts. Quite a few people have been asking me how the holodeck cricket is going since it was featured in the ship's rumor mill. Things have been on hold a bit for the last month or so, partly because of the wet weather (the program is inalterable facsimile of current Earth weather). Crewman Kumar, who's our quickest bowler, doesn't much like the slippery tarmac and has been having a bit of a whinge, so we might have to invest in some carpet to use as a run-up. I'd expect things to fire up again once the Deuterium tank upgrades are up and running. It'll be just like when Wimbledon is on, the tennis racquets come out of the wardrobe. Once the blokes on earth start thrashing the Poms, I'm sure me and the boys be back in the holodeck with the taped tennis ball and I'll have some more stories to tell you."
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter32>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 32: Trials and Tribulations**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Conference room 6, Starbase 39 Sierra -- "Republic Eight" trial, Day 2**
+Inside the confines of the conference room, Judge Wade spoke in stern tones. "All right then folks, let's get back to business shall we." He nodded toward Mister Cole who seemed eager to continue his attack on the assembled members of Republic's command crew. "You have the floor Mister Cole."
+With reptilian ease, Cole nodded. "Thank you, your Honor," he said coolly. "The prosecution calls intelligence officer Anathon to the stand."
+As a door to the front of the room opened, the surly Andorian, dressed in the black fatigues of the Imperial Guard of Andor, walked to the witness stand, took the pledge of truth, and dutifully sat down.
+John Carter's poker face failed him as he felt his eyebrows raise. "Sprocking Hell, that man HAS to have some Cardassian in him."
+Next to Carter, Nat Hawk chuckled. "Jeez, Cyclops, how is it we always run into the people you pissed off?"
+Carter turned his head slightly and skewed his face into a sour scowl. "Quiet," Carter hissed. "I need to hear this. He's here for a reason."
+"Yeah!" Hawk huffed, barely keeping his voice discrete, "He's here to put you away." Hawk gave the XO a playful wink. "I'll give the Counselor yer best."
+On the floor of the conference room, Cole gave the Andorian in Intelligence black a glance. "Will you tell the court of your duty position during the events in question?" Cole asked.
+"I was a security officer at the Cestus three intelligence outpost."
+"The outpost that is currently under investigation by the Federation Council for possible treaty violation?"
+Tuvok raised an eyebrow at the prosecution's admittance of the security outpost that had caused this incident in the first place.
+"Yes," Anathon replied to Cole's question.
+"Now, I understand that that investigation is ongoing, and does not pertain to any of the charges being brought against these defendants, but can you tell me what your orders were when the Gorns began to invade Cestus three?"
+"We were to observe only, and not interfere."
+"And did you?" Cole asked.
+"Did I what?" Anathon asked with a twitch of his antenna.
+"Interfere?"
+"No, I did not."
+"Are you sure?" Cole second-guessed the Andorian. "Think carefully."
+"I did not interfere," Anathon stated, with anger rising in his voice.
+"The state would like to turn the court's attention to exhibit E; supply backpacks found on the four individuals from the so-called 'Shadow Force' resistance cell composed of Mister Cromwell and the others."
+A bailiff pushed out a grav-cart with three similar looking black backpacks aligned next to one another. Anathon's antenna went flat, and his eyes grew with concern as a lump formed in his throat. He had completely forgotten about the "gifts" he had left for the mysterious sliver-suited colonist in South Cornucopia.
+"Now, Mister Anathon," Cole turned his attention to the Andorian again. "Do you recognize these backpacks?"
+"Yes," he replied. "They're Starfleet Intelligence Special Operations field packs."
+"If they're Starfleet," Cole asked. "Then what were they doing in the hands of Mister Cromwell and his comrades?"
+A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Anathon's forehead as he looked at the backpacks. Were they the ones he left for the colonist? Surely they weren't. There were hundreds of those at the outpost. Besides, what were the chances they fell into Cromwell's hands? There weren't many clues, since Intel left no distinguishing marks on their equipment. There was only one real answer. "I do not know," Anathon replied with a slight rasp in his voice.
+Cole nodded his head, seeming to accept the reply. He then turned towards the defense table, making an announcement to the court. "The state submits that Mister Cromwell committed not only one offense of pre-meditated murder, but two. With the assistance of THOSE individuals." Cole pointed to Skip, Wey, and Lins. "And with the help of rogue Starfleet officers that include not only those of the intelligence outpost, but those officers before us today that stand accused of related crimes."
+"Objection, your honor," Tuvok said. "Speculation."
+"On the contrary," Cole rebuffed with a snobbish tone. "If I could continue without interruption, I will present evidence that precisely demonstrates the foundation behind this accusation."
+"Overruled," Judge Wade replied.
+"The state would like to present exhibit F, sensor footage from a Gorn security sweep of downtown Cornucopia during the events in question. They were provided to us by the Gorn government for these proceedings."
+A viewscreen to the right of the judge's stand came to life, showing dozens of Gorn troopers in assault gear standing in the middle of the street next to a strange array of huge, V-shaped metallic sheets suspended over a small concrete building. Federation standard and Gorn text blinked to life in the log's lower left corner which read "Cornucopia Heat-Exchange Facility, Sector 2B, stardate 57502.8, 1019 hours Cestus Time, Region 6".
+Suddenly, a loud explosion is heard in the background, and the Gorns quickly turn towards the direction of the sound. The street began to buckle all around the building, and as craters begin to form, troops, transports, and event the structure started to collapse below ground. Screams and curses sound as wisps of white smoke begin to obscure the sensor's lens, and as static forms on the screen, the last picture is of a water line with dead Gorn troops half-dissolved in a caustic, blood-frothed liquid.
+The screen flipped off, leaving the courtroom silent with a few whispers and an occasional sob at the shock of the scene. Even Lins shed a few tears at the defense table as Arthur, Skip, and Wey stared blankly at the now deactivated viewer. After a moment, Cole, while staring at the ceiling in thought, continued his questioning of Anathon.
+"Can you identify the source of the explosion, Mister Anathon? Do you know of anything that can rip through one-meter thick streets of tritainium concrete resin?"
+"A very power explosive substance," he replied.
+"Not antimatter?" Cole asked.
+"No, but almost as bad," Anathon gulped, not sure of his next words. "Probably a military explosive."
+"A military explosive . . . " the prosecutor nodded his head. "The Gorn's analysis indicated nitrate charges. Does that seem possible to you?"
+"Yes."
+Somewhat surprisingly, Tuvok made no objection to Anathon's validation of Cole's theory.
+"Is it jest me," Hawk commented again, "Or did your lawyer…"
+"Our lawyer, Hawk." Carter whispered.
+"Or did YOUR lawyer skip one hell of a chance to scuttle blue-boy's testimony."
+Carter looked on in silence, not pleased with the idea that he was agreeing with the young lieutenant.
+Presenting another PADD from his briefcase at the prosecution table, Cole brought it over to Anathon at the witness stand.
+"These are the contents of the backpacks found among Mister Cromwell and his cohorts," Cole stated. "Tell me Mister Anathon. Assuming these packs were standard intelligence issue, do you notice anything missing?"
+"Yes," Anathon said. "The packs that Cromwell's team had are missing all the nitrate charges . . . "
+Whispers were once again shared among the observers as Cole came to a close.
+"No further questions."
+Cole spun slowly, taking his place back at the defense table. "Very well, Mister Cole," Judge Wade said from the bench. "Your witness Advocate Tuvok."
+With calm, measured steps, Tuvok approached the witness box, where Anathon fidgeted slightly." Officer Anathon," Tuvok said in crisp tones, "Have you ever been posted to the Starship Valiant II?"
+"Objection, your Honor," Cole said from the prosecution's desk, "This is a civilian trial. Your Honor already reminded all assembled that the use of rank and Starfleet position would not be tolerated."
+Wade nodded. "Advocate?"
+"Your Honor," Tuvok explained, "Officer Anathon is not on trial, therefore, his rank and position past or present may be used. Further, his past postings have relevance to this hearing, if I may be allowed to continue?"
+"Over-ruled," Wade answered. "Please answer the question Mister Anathon."
+In the box, Anathon continued to sweat, then nodded. "Yes, I have served on the Valiant II."
+"Please tell the court the results of your crew evaluation for that cruise."
+"Unsatisfactory." Anathon answered with an edge o bitterness.
+Tuvok nodded and turned to pace in the opposite direction. "And who was responsible for that evaluation?"
+Anathon swallowed hard and spoke after a brief pause. "The captain and first officer of the vessel."
+"Indeed, and do you recall the name of either of those individuals?"
+"I do not," Anathon leveled his icy blue eyes at Tuvok, "Advocate."
+"I would like to enter Defense exhibit A. Crew manifest and fitness reports from the U.S.S. Valiant II; Excelsior class cruiser, Galaxy Exploration Command. I would like to point out that Mister Anathon's unsatisfactory fitness report was filed by Captain Theresa Perkins, and acting First Officer of the ship, John Carter. The same John Carter who sits in this room today." As Tuvok turned again, this time to face the gallery, Tuvok's robes gave his movements dramatic flourish. "What was the reason for this evaluation, Mister Anathon?"
+"Mister Carter found my conduct not to his standards."
+Tuvok nodded. "I see. In point of fact, you gathered the other Andorian members of the Valiant II's crew, and tried to kill John Carter, did you not?"
+Anathon's antennae lurched forward, in a classic sign of anger. "I was within my rights."
+"Answer the question, officer. Did you try to kill John Carter ?"
+"I did."
+"Your Honor, I move that this witness's testimony be stricken on the grounds that it is prejudicial to my clients."
+Cole stood up, showing the first signs of annoyance throughout the two days of deliberations. "Objection, your honor," he bellowed. "John Carter is not the only one on trial here. Mister Anathon's testimony pertained to the events on Cestus three and the method used by Arthur Cromwell to infuriate the Gorns. Mister Carter was not mentioned once."
+"Interesting," Wade intoned. After a moment of thought, the Judge turned to Tuvok. "Your motion to strike Mister Anathon's testimony is valid for John Carter only, advocate. I see no bias the witness may have against Arthur Cromwell."
+"Thank you, your Honor," Tuvok nodded. "Nothing further from this witness."
+Cole developed a furrow in his forehead. A fissure was developing in his case against the defendants. Although his argument against the Shadowforce members was solid, the connection to John Carter and the other Republic personnel was starting to unravel. It was time for desperate measures, and although he had one crucial witness in mind to bring to the court, it was a very risky gamble . . .
+Wade smiled slightly at Cole's obvious annoyance. "Call your next witness, Mister Cole."
+Cole smiled and slicked his pinky along his eyebrow. "Thank you Judge Wade." Cole turned, rifled through a few briefs on his desk and looked back at the defense table. "The defense now calls Lana Taylor to the stand."
+With an astonished look, both Carter at the defense table and Leon in the observation floor glanced at one another as a Starfleet lieutenant, acting as bailiff, escorted the station's chief medical officer, Doctor Chambers, and Lana Taylor dressed in a white patient's jumpsuit, to the witness stand. As they did so, Tuvok stood up and protested.
+"Objection, your honor. It is not proper to call a witness who is not of sound mind to the stand."
+"As I have mentioned before, your honor," Cole interrupted. "Mister Tuvok's objection would be valid in a full trial. But in this hearing, the state may call any witness they choose to establish that a crime has been committed. In addition, this station's own physician, has administered medication that will temporarily assist in accessing Miss Taylor's unbiased memories of Mister Carter's behavior aboard the Republic during Captain Marshall's command."
+Nodding his head, Judge Wade agreed. "Overruled, Mister Tuvok." Turning his attention back to Cole, he added, "make it brief, counselor. You're walking a thin line with your choice of witnesses."
+"Of course, your honor."
+As Lana was held to the pledge, she sat down looking both innocent and slightly confused. Doctor Chambers stood beside her along with the bailiff.
+"Miss Taylor," Cole began. "Do you recognize that man sitting over there?" He was pointing towards John Carter.
+"Y . . . yes . . . " she said with vague recollection. "He's the tactical officer on the Republic." She squinted as she looked at him. "What happened to his eye?"
+A snicker came from Nat Hawk as Tuvok gave him a stern look.
+"You need not worry about that, Miss Taylor," Cole answered her. "However, can you recall how this man treated your captain while you were aboard?"
+Rolling her eyes in thought, a pause occurred where Lana quirked an eyebrow.
+"Yes," she said dreamily, but with concern. "They didn't like each other. Carter was always taking advantage of Jim's command . . . always pushing him aside whenever combat happened. He was jealous of Jim . . . "
+"Would you say that John Carter resented James Marshall's command over him?"
+"Yes, I would," she responded, looking across the courtroom at John with a sleepy expression. But the Martian was much less benign, as his face flushed with exasperation.
+"Oh, that's IT!" Carter said in full voice as he shot to his feet. "This is unbelievable!" John slammed his hand against the top of the desk, and then looked squarely at Cole. "You wanna do me in, then put me on the stand and take your best shot!" Carter's voice thundered across the room. Even Leon was surprised at how much fury John must have been containing. "She has NOTHING to do with this!"
+His face wide in shock, Cole spun and looked back at the judge. "Your Honor! Please?"
+The judge hit his gavel on the bench, and the loud clap rang through the room. "Mister Carter! Sit down! Any plans that Mister Cole has for you, he can get on with soon enough."
+Cole turned in surprise to face the judge. "What?"
+Wade looked at Cole sternly. "Get that poor woman off the stand now, Mister Cole. I don't care who you work for, I will not have someone paraded about for humiliation in my court."
+Cole nodded, "Yes your Honor," and waved for two bailiffs to escort Lana Taylor out of the box.
+"As for you, Mister Carter," Judge Wade said, "behave yourself, or I'll find you in contempt, whether I agree with you or not."
+"Understood Judge." Carter answered simply, trying to calm down. Next to Carter, Nat Hawk rolled his eyes. "Heh, looks like you been hangin' `round with me too long there, Johnny-boy."
+There was an uneasy silence as Lana Taylor was led away and order descended, reluctantly, back to the hearing.
+"Damn!" thought Cole as his attempt to bring a witness to Carter's personality failed. The decorated officer, although somewhat rouge in his disposition, had a good record, and the prosecutor was having a very tough time putting holes in it.
+After a few moments, the judge hit his gavel to bring the proceedings back into session. This time, however, Cole decided to change tactics. If he could not make a connection between John Carter and Shadowforce, then he needed to split the case into two parts. With his case against Arthur Cromwell presented, he would allow the defense to call their witnesses, and disrepute the Republic's crew from another direction.
+"The prosecution's case against Arthur Cromwell and the other Shadowforce members rests, your honor. But the state reserves the right to recall witnesses to shed light on the other defendants' crimes."
+"Very well," the judge agreed. "Advocate," he turned to the defense table.
+Tuvok, in turn, had elected to start the presentation for the defense with John Carter on the stand. The irritated Martian gave Cole a sour look as we walked to the podium, agreed to the pledge of truth, and sat down.
+"Mister Carter, please tell me the nature of your mission on Cestus three."
+"We ran and hid a lot." There was a small murmur of amusement from the gallery, quickly silenced by a hit from judge Wade's gavel.
+"Specifically, Mister Carter, what were you ordered to do by Captain Marshall?"
+"The captain ordered me to assemble an away team and make contact with any intelligence assets on the planet."
+Tuvok tilted his head. "You weren't ordered to make contact with the colony's government?"
+"No Sir, I was not."
+"You were not ordered to assist in the liberation of the planet, or aid the members of Shadow Force?"
+"Not specifically, no."
+"And yet," Tuvok added with some caution, "you included the members of Republic's Hazard Team in your party. Please tell us why."
+"When Republic was ordered to Cestus three, it was to investigate communications failure with the colony. We had no idea that the Gorn had even set foot on the colony. When we arrived in system, we counted 14 assault ships along with one command cruiser and several smaller capital ships."
+"How many Gorn ships were in orbit when you arrived?"
+"Twenty ships in all."
+"Indeed." Tuvok held up a PADD and indicated toward the judge. "Defense would like to present exhibit B; logs from the starship Republic confirming the presence of 20 Gorn vessels." Tuvok leveled his gaze at Carter once more. "Then what did you do, Mister Carter?"
+"Captain Marshall ordered me to assemble an away team and head planet-side, so we prepped a shuttle and made for the approximate location of the…assets."
+Tuvok raised one eyebrow in classic Vulcan fashion. "You approached Cestus three in shuttle craft? Why was that?"
+Carter gave his head a slight nod. "Safer. Beaming down would have required that Republic lower her shields to beam us back. By going in small craft, we could loiter or hide as long as necessary and leave Republic free to do whatever Captain Marshall required of her, without having to worry about us. Hazard Team was the Captain's idea."
+"And what was Captain Marshall doing while you were heading for the surface?" Tuvok asked calmly.
+"Objection," Cole stood up at the prosecution table. "John Carter is the one on trial here, not James Marshall."
+"The nature of the captain's activities will explain the precarious position the Republic and Mister Carter's away team was placed in after the shuttle landed on the planet."
+"Overruled," the judge nodded.
+Carter turned his head to look back at Cole. "Captain Marshall told me that he was going to settle the matter diplomatically. He wasn't specific as to how."
+Tuvok nodded. "And that was the last time you spoke with your captain?"
+"Yes."
+"Tell me Mister Carter, " Tuvok paused and turned, then continued to pace, "How did you first become aware of Shadow Force's activities on the planet?"
+Carter smiled a bit, looking sideways at Arthur Cromwell as he answered, "We followed the signs of the explosion."
+"Specifically, is that the conventional explosion from the reclamation plant?"
+"As far as I'm aware, yes."
+"Mister Carter, when you eventually made contact with Shadow Force on Cestus three, what did you do?"
+"I decided to lead the civilians back to the settlement in the Gordonian Mountains so that we could sort this whole mess out."
+"But you didn't get the chance did you?"
+"No, we didn't. The Gorn Captain, G'Meth mentioned trial by combat, and the next thing we knew, the orbital bombardment started."
+"Objection," Cole interrupted once again, causing an annoyed glance from the judge. "No link between the duel with Marshall and the orbital bombardment of Cestus has been established let alone proven."
+"Advocate?" Wade looked to the Vulcan.
+"Mister Cole is correct," Tuvok admitted. "There is no proof of a connection."
+"Sustained then," the judge declared.
+"No further questions," Tuvok said before walking back to the defense table.
+"Your witness, Mister Cole."
+With the look of a predator that had just been provided a sedentary meal, Cole slipped out of his seat at the prosecutor's table and approached John with a sly grin.
+"Mister Carter," he started. "Wasn't it true that your captain contacted you once more before you landed on Cestus three?"
+"Yes,"
+"And wasn't it also true that he informed you that he was planning to duel with the Gorn Captain?"
+"I don't remember."
+"Perhaps defense exhibit B will help, as it contains the communications logs of the Republic during the Cestus three incident." Cole nodded, and the paralegal activated the speaker system which came alive with James Marshall's voice:
+//"Republic to Onizuka, come in!"// shouted Marshall.
+//"Onizuka, Hawk 'ere. Sorry 'bout that Cap'n, ya spoke up at a delicate moment,"// Hawks voice came next.
+//"Commander Carter, is everyone alright? Your decent vector was--"//
+//"Everyone's fine, Captain . . . More or less." Carter's voice sounded cantankerous.//
+//"We lost track of you somewhere in the upper mesosphere, we had atmospheric readings all over the place, we thought you'd broken up."//
+//"No sir. Just . . . skipped across the pond."//
+//"I see. The Gorn have . . . re-accepted my challenge. We'll be departing within the hour, you have your orders."//
+//"Aye sir. Good luck."//
+//"Thank you. Republic out."//
+Turning back towards Carter, Cole continued his line of questioning.
+"What did 're-accepting my challenge' mean to you when you heard it, Mister Carter?"
+"He must have been referring to his arrangement to duel the Gorn captain," John replied. "At the time, we were in a very acute decent to the planet surface, and what he said didn't register in my mind. I guess I assumed he succeeded in contacting the Gorns. That's all."
+"I see," Cole acknowledged smoothly. "Did you make any attempt to further understand what he was talking about?"
+"No. I had immediate concerns."
+"Matters that were so pressing that the safety of your ship and her captain were less important?"
+"I didn't know about the duel!"
+"You didn't know about the duel, but yet you still wished him good luck at the end of the communication?"
+"He was going to enter negotiations with a hostile power. He needed all the luck he could get."
+"You doubted Captain Marshall's diplomatic skill?"
+Carter glared at Cole. "That's not what I said." Carter responded.
+"But it is what you meant." Cole shot back. "Your captain told you he was marching off to die, and you all but pushed him out the door."
+"Had I known, I would have said something!"
+"Oh no," Cole looked very soberly at Carter with squinted eyes. "You knew. Maybe not about the duel, but you knew he was departing the ship. And you also knew the next in the chain-of-command was your friend Mister Virtus. Whether you did not hear the captain, or whether you heard him but chose not to act, which from Miss Taylor's testimony, is the most likely scenario, the fact remains that you did NOT act. That alone, as executive officer, makes you liable for James Marshall's death."
+"You're sprocking loony!"
+"Also," continued Cole. "In addition to the release of sensor footage of Marshall's duel shows your contempt for the man who was your commanding officer at the time. I question your motives, Mister Carter. I question your loyalty to your command, and I question your role in this disgraceful event."
+"I did that to get at the truth!" Carter shouted.
+"And just how did you think that would help the Marshall family, Mister Carter?"
+"When the Away Team and I arrived and we discovered that there were in fact Starfleet Intelligence assets on Cestus three, I realized that no one was playing straight with us. I was sick of the lies and sick of all the deception. I wanted to make sure that no one could hide what happened to Captain Marshall."
+Cole looked at Carter with a calm expression, content to let the monocular officer explain himself. Cole was confident that Carter's temper and maverick attitude would get the better of him eventually. "Really?" Cole questioned. "You mentioned deception, Mister Carter. If, because of your NOBLE actions regarding the death of your captain, there was no deception in that regard, then where did said deception occur?"
+Carter sat back with a confident smirk. "I can't tell you."
+The shock was visible on Cole's face. "Excuse me?" Cole paced in front of the witness stand. "Need I remind you that I represent the President of the United Federation of Planets? I assure you, I have full clearance."
+Carter scanned the gallery. "You might, but they don't," he paused slightly, "Anything admitted in a civilian court is a matter of public record, and as a civilian citizen of the Federation, I am forbidden from discussing certain military secrets."
+At the defense table, Tuvok felt the corners of his mouth tighten in the barest hint of a smile. In an effort to incriminate John Carter, Cole had inadvertently ran afoul of the Federation Official Secrets Act. This century-old legislation made it illegal for any federation citizen, whether Starfleet or not, to divulge any classified information. Tuvok had cautioned Carter, Forrest, and Hawk against becoming complacent because of the civilian nature of the trial. At this moment, he was pleased to see that his client had paid attention.
+Cole, who had just realized he had cornered the prosecution's case against Carter into a quagmire, appeared frustrated and confused. He had hoped to reveal Victor Virtus' mutiny against McClintock's interposition order at this point, but it never occurred to Cole that these events could not be revealed in civilian court for matters of security. With frustration brewing in his face, he chose to bring to light one of the charges brought against him, albeit a rather minor one at that.
+"Mister Carter, are you aware of the Federation's Fair-Coverage Media Act?"
+"Yes," Carter replied sourly, remembering Tuvok's pre-trial interview of him. He knew the prosecution, based on the charges, was going to bring this up, but there was no denying that he had no license to broadcast raw Starfleet sensory material to the news agencies.
+"It's the law that requiring media outlets that broadcast footage of Starfleet material to be licensed by the Federation Trade Commission and allow the footage to be reviewed by Starfleet's Office for Public Relations and Information for non-bias coverage."
+"Very good," Cole responded condescendingly. "Now, was the Republic a licensed media outlet?"
+"No," Carter said grumpily, crossing his arms.
+"Yet, despite your noble act of transmitting this sensor footage to prevent a cover-up of James Marshall's death, you violated the law," Cole concluded. "In fact, your premature distribution of the material to the news networks went against the long-standing Starfleet regulation that requires the immediate family of deceased be notified before their names are provided to the public, isn't that correct?"
+"Objection, your honor," Tuvok interrupted. "Starfleet regulations have no bearing in a civilian hearing."
+"Sustained," Wade agreed. "Mister Cole, refrain from bringing John Carter's service record into this court. If he disobeyed Starfleet regulations, then that is a Starfleet matter."
+"Understood, your honor," Cole replied calmly, confident that he had made his point and was finally able to cleanly attach at least one crime to John Carter after all this time. "No further questions."
+Tuvok rose to his feet as Cole moved to seat himself at the table. "Re-direct your Honor."
+In response, Wade simply nodded.
+"Mister Carter, who was in command of the U.S.S. Republic when you left for Cestus three with the Away Team?"
+"Captain Marshall was in command."
+Tuvok nodded. "And if the captain leaves the ship, would you, as executive officer be under any obligation to return to the vessel?"
+"No, Advocate. That's what the chain of command is for."
+"Chain of command. Indeed. The prosecution said previously that Mister Virtus, whose deposition has been entered into the record, should have been in command when Captain Marshall left the Republic."
+"Is that in fact what occurred?"
+Carter nodded. "Yes, but only until Captain Marshall was murdered."
+Tuvok felt his eyebrow raise, despite his formidable emotional control. "Captain Marshall died in ritual combat with the Gorn pack-leader which he himself initiated. He was killed as a result of those actions, but not murdered."
+John shook his head. "He was savagely cut down and poisoned for no good reason. I've seen the logs. It was murder."
+Tuvok looked sternly at Carter. "Your Honor," he asked the judge, "I move that the witness's last statement be stricken."
+At the Prosecutor's table, Cole rose to his feet "Judge Wade, The State has no objection to Mister Carter's comments." He looked sideways at Tuvok. "As a citizen of the Federation, Mister Carter should feel free to speak his mind."
+"Over-ruled." Wade said simply. "Litigation 101. Never ask a question you don't know the answer to. You opened the door Advocate."
+"Indeed." Tuvok said simply. Then he elected to change strategy slightly. "No good reason you said, Mister Carter. Can you be more specific?"
+John Carter paused briefly, then answered. "The duel was moot. Even if Captain Marshall would have won, the colony would have been lost."
+"Please explain."
+"I can't sir," Carter offered. "Perhaps you should ask Admiral Kostya."
+Tuvok turned again to regard Judge Wade. "For the record, the witness is referring to Admiral Vladimir Kostya, Chief of Starfleet Operations. Federation information requests have revealed that Admiral Kostya had strategic command of the Cestus three situation as James Marshall's immediate superior." Tuvok stated flatly.
+"Objection!" Cole shouted from the prosecution table. "Vladimir Kostya has not been charged, nor has he any bearing on this case. Mister Carter's mention of him, and the Advocate's reiteration into the record, is merely a ploy by both to redirect blame in another direction. There's no evidence that the admiral was responsible for anything other that the Republic's operational orders, which has already been established."
+"Advocate?" the judge turned to Tuvok, allowing him a rebuttal.
+"If we are to establish the events of what occurred after Mister Carter's return to the Republic, then we must reveal to the court the orders that her crew were required to obey prior to his arrival."
+"As Mister Carter has already mentioned," Cole defended his position. "The classified side of those orders cannot be mentioned in a civilian courtroom. Any further discussion of this subject would violate the Federation Official Secrets Act. The State requests that events aboard the Republic from James Marshall's death to the return of John Carter and the away team be omitted from the record for reasons of security. We concede that the change of command from James Marshall to Victor Virtus occurred as per Starfleet protocol."
+As Cole saw it, if he couldn't use what happened with McClintock and the interposition order to incriminate Victor Virtus along with John Carter, then there was no way that the defense should be able to use for exoneration purposes.
+"The defense disagrees," Tuvok replied, beaming a stoic stare at Cole in a rhetorical face-off.
+"Sidebar, gentlemen?" the judge offered.
+"Only," Cole stated, locking gazes with the dark-skinned Vulcan. "If the defense concedes that the admiral's interposition order was legal and that Victor Virtus and a portion of the Republic's crew ignored the chain of command during this incident."
+"If we were to concede to what amounts to an illegal order, then there is no way that Mister Virtus nor the crew could have enforced it." Tuvok, too, was engaged in the staring match, leaving Judge Wade to warily shuffle his eyes back and forth between the two.
+As for the judge himself, he had not heard about interposition orders since it was mentioned occasionally in the media during the Dominion War. Apparently, there were some high brass in Starfleet who felt it necessary to issue orders that prevented the normal changeover in the chain of command on large capital starships and control cruisers when the commanding officer was incapacitated. This had to do with the possibility of Dominion changelings infiltrating the ranks, or something to that order. Wade never really understood it, and certainly didn't expect it to ever appear in his courtroom. Nonetheless, here it was, literally staring him in the face. He had to break the stalemate.
+"The court declares the issue of the interposition orders to be a Starfleet issue. Any future litigation pursuant to the legality of these orders may affect the outcome of certain portions of this hearing, and therefore, the case may be reopened at that time. However, until then, the issue is to be considered out of the realm of a civilian court. Prosecutor, I assume this affects your case against Mister Virtus?"
+"Yes, your honor," Cole admitted coolly. "If we cannot admit interposition orders into this court, then we have no case against Victor Virtus."
+"Advocate Tuvok, how does this affect your defense?"
+"Without a decision of the legality regarding Starfleet interposition orders, then there is no reason to assume that chain-of-command protocols were violated aboard the Republic."
+"So be it," Wade ordered with a slam of his gavel. "Victor Virtus is eliminated as a co-conspirator in this case, and charges against him will be dropped. Mister Tuvok, you may continue your defense of your remaining clients."
+"Thank you, your honor," Tuvok replied while Cole sat back down. "My re-examination of John Carter is complete."
+"Mister Cole?" the judge turned to the prosecutor. "Do you wish to follow up?"
+"Yes, I would you're honor," the well-dressed investigator replied. "Briefly."
+"Please make it such."
+As Cole walked back to the witness stand with his usual predatory smile, John Carter rolled his eyes.
+"Mister Carter," he began. "You mentioned the fact the James Marshall was brutally murdered."
+"Yes."
+"And, although you may not have been required to return to the Republic when your commanding officer had mentioned he was meeting with the Gorns, your lack of doing so resulted in James Marshall's death."
+"Objection, your honor," Tuvok interrupted yet again. "There is no evidence that James Marshall would not have died if John Carter had returned to the ship."
+"True," Cole admitted. "But the advocate has to admit that his chances of survival would have greatly increased had Carter returned."
+With a moment of silence, the Vulcan raised his eyebrow, computing the actual change in statistics with John Carter's presence aboard the Republic as a factor in James Marshall's death. Not only was Cole correct, but the chances for the captain's survival had increased by double-digit percentages. The court's eyes were on him, and he could not lie.
+"They would," he responded, forcing a gasp of exasperation and shock from his clients.
+"Therefore," Cole concluded. "If John Carter had the ability to return to the ship -- which he most certainly did -- but failed to react -- which he also did -- then he robbed James Marshall of a critical survival factor during his murder. Add to the fact that everyone else in the shuttlecraft -- who heard the audio transmission and didn't react by reminding John Carter that he may need to return to the ship -- added to the events that resulted in James Marshall's murder by the Gorns. That makes John Carter and the away team -- by definition -- accessories to murder."
+The observation floor erupted in whispers of uncertainty as Cole spun around and returned to the prosecutor table. "No further questions for Mister Carter, your honor."
+"Very well," Wade acknowledged. "Mister Carter, you may step down."
+As John returned to his seat, he posed an irritable expression that made Nat Hawk slightly uncomfortable, for it reminded him of the standoff the two had in the turbolift during their first "unofficial" one-on-one discussion regarding professional behavior on the bridge. Turning away, Nat glanced at Douglas Forrest, who had maintained a quiet, cool demeanor throughout the whole trial.
+"Ya don't seemed too worried about all this, c'mander. S'pose you know somthin' that I don't?"
+Without concern, Forrest glanced down at his wrist chronometer. "Hawk, the sum total of things I know that you don't would fill several, by which I mean many, many, books." the intelligence officer replied.
+"Well, that's a relief," Nat replied. "I knew not bein' able ta read would come in handy one of these days."
+Hawk, if he was at all concerned about his situation, showed absolutely no outward sign. Tuvok, on the other hand, was very worried. In a swift maneuver, Cole had successfully turned John Carter's explanation of James Marshall's 'murder' against the defense quite efficiently. He slowly sat down as it occurred to him that everyone he had set out to defend in this case, from Arthur Cromwell and John Carter, to Nat Hawk and Lindsey Davenport, had been implicated in the hearing. It seemed that only Victor Virtus, by way of a technicality, had been spared the obvious outcome of this hearing: everyone being accused would be charged and held criminally liable for the Cestus three incident.
+"Advocate," Judge Wade addressed him. "Do you have any other witnesses to call?"
+Tuvok was coming to grips with the reality of the situation. With his clients anticipating his response, he simply interlaced his fingers, raised an eyebrow, and admitted failure for the first time ever since receiving his Federation Bar license.
+"No, your honor."
+"Very well," Wade replied, turning to the smiling Cole. "Prosecutor?"
+"The state rests, your honor. We request that all defendants; Arthur Cromwell and Shadowforce for murder and accessory to murder of the Cestus three colonists, and John Carter and the away team, for accessory to murder and violation of the Fair-Coverage Media Act, be charged, detained, and prosecuted in a Federation court at the earliest possible convenience."
+"So be it," the Judge responded somberly, raising his gavel. However, before it could be lowered thus sealing the fate of the defendants, the doors to rear of the courtroom opened to the surprise of the two attending Starfleet bailiffs. An aged man in a black uniform walked silently towards the defendant's table, handing Tuvok a PADD and throwing a stoic glance towards Forrest who responded with a calm nod.
+Judge Wade was not accustomed to interruptions, let alone unexpected ones. He cast a stern glare at the darkly dressed intruder and gave an authoritarian grunt. "Who the hell is this? Advocate Tuvok, I should warn you that I am not a fan of theatrics or trickery. I appreciate your zealous defense but . . . "
+Cole immediately shot to his feet. "Your Honor! I STORNGLY object. The defense has rested their case. You can't . . . "
+"Incorrect Mister Cole," Tuvok said calmly. "The judge simply asked if I had other witnesses. At the time, I did not."
+Wade leaned back at the bench, shaking his head slightly. "Why in the world did I think this one would be easy." Wade rose his left hand and motioned ahead of himself. "All right, Advocate. Let's have it."
+"The defense calls Douglas Forrest to the stand."
+The next few minutes were all testament to the give and take of courtroom procedure. Cole objected, to which Tuvok countered; like verbal fencers with thrust parry and riposte. Eventually, precedence was met, procedure satisfied, and the oath of truth administered to Douglas Forrest.
+"State your name and occupation for the record, please." Tuvok asked the Black Shirt.
+"Douglas Forrest. Intelligence officer, U.S.S. Republic."
+"You were present during the Landing Party's actions on Cestus three, were you not?"
+"I was."
+"And, as an accomplished Intelligence Officer, what information can you offer to explain the origins of the Cestus three occupation by the Gorn."
+"Objection, your honor!" Cole shouted from his table. "This man cannot testify. Any classified facts he reveals will put countless lives at risk."
+"Advocate?" Wade asked Tuvok.
+The stoic Vulcan rose to his feet and walked toward the bench holding the PADD he had recently been given. "This document, Judge, is an executive order from Admiral Owen Paris; Starfleet Commander-In-Chief. It re-affirms Mister Forrest's civilian status, and also waves the Federation Official Secrets Act for the purposes of Mister Forrest's testimony." Tuvok handed the PADD to Judge Wade.
+"Admiral Paris does ask however that the records of these proceedings be closed by the court pending further review by the Judge Advocate General's office."
+Wade scowled. "Hmm," he grunted thoughtfully. "Much as I hate to have my thunder stolen, particularly by Starfleet, the order does appear legal, and therefore binding. Records of these proceedings will be closed, and the witness will testify. Well played Mister Tuvok."
+Tuvok allowed himself a small nod, then turned to face Douglas Forrest. "Mister Forrest. Do you know what a `duck blind' is?"
+"Yes."
+"Was there a duck blind on Cestus three?"
+"Yes."
+"Where was it?"
+Forrest remained silent for a moment, looking squarely at Cole. "Two-Hundred-Six degrees, ten minutes, fourteen seconds longitude by fourteen degrees, twenty-seven minutes, two seconds latitude."
+Tuvok nodded. "And in a geo-political context. Where is it?"
+"Point six meters inside the Gorn sensor-control zone on Cestus three. An area designated by the Metron Treaty where no sensory equipment could be deployed because, due to planetary rotation, it constantly faces Gorn space."
+There was a collective gasp in the courtroom as the enormity of Forrest's admission sank in.
+"Sprock me," John Carter whispered.
+"No shit," said Nat Hawk.
+Tuvok's eyebrow rose. "Please clarify, Mister Forrest. You said that the duck blind was actually located inside this treaty zone?"
+"That is correct."
+"And what bearing would such an arrangement have on the Treaty of Metron?"
+Forrest sat quietly for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "It effectively gives control of the planet to the Gorns."
+"Indeed." Tuvok remarked somberly. "And when was the duck blind constructed?"
+"According to the latest S.I. briefing I had access to, the base went live on stardate 57102.3," Forrest explained. "Eight months ago."
+"Who else, beside yourself, knew these facts?"
+"Standard procedure would mean all operatives in the field, Director of Ops for Intelligence, and Chief of Operations, as well as any commanding officer in the sector."
+"Meaning Captain Marshall would have been told about the duck blind?"
+"Yes sir, he should have."
+"In fact, would that not explain why Mister Carter and the away team were instructed to find any intelligence assets, rather than the colony's government?"
+Cole, who had been surprisingly silent during Forrest's testimony, finally spoke up. "Objection: Speculation."
+"Sustained," the judge agreed.
+"Withdrawn. It is sufficient to establish that both Captain Marshall and Admiral Kostya both knew of the duck blind. Is that your understanding Mister Forrest."
+"It is."
+Tuvok turned looking at the table full of stunned defendants he had so recently thought he had let down. Reluctantly, he admitted something akin to happiness that there was still life in his case. Now there was one more piece of the puzzle to slip into place.
+The Advocate turned again to look at Forrest who's expression in the witness box was remarkably, disturbingly, constant. "How long have you served Starfleet Intelligence, Mister Forrest.?"
+"All told, twenty-two years. Sixteen in `Fleet, the last six as a civilian contractor."
+"Thank you," Tuvok said. He then turned to Judge Wade. "Your Honor, I would like to take advantage of Mister Forrest's experience as an expert witness."
+Wade cradled his chin as he propped an elbow on the bench. "I'd like to see where you're going Advocate," Wade said. "I'll allow it."
+"Objection Judge," Cole blurted out, "Mister Forrest is a key participant and a defendant in this case, he can't also be a witness."
+"Your Honor," Tuvok explained. "Mister Forrest is entitled to the most vigorous defense available, and he has first hand knowledge of key facts which directly effect the charges against him. You must allow him to speak."
+Wade nodded. "Relax Advocate," Wade cautioned, "the law's on your side, and like I said, I'm curious."
+"Thank you, your honor." Tuvok's robes flourished as turned to look again at Forrest. "How does Starfleet Intelligence keep track of its field equipment?"
+"Each piece of gear is tagged with a special code that is constantly scanned for and verified by the computer in the theater of operations."
+"Including the nitrate charges from the emergency packs in the duck blind?"
+"Yes."
+"And what about the explosive itself?"
+Forrest looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Advocate."
+Tuvok regarded Forrest sternly. "Do not all Starfleet issue explosives, including those used by Starfleet Intelligence, employ a technique known as `micro-tagging' ?"
+Forrest smiled. "Yes, yes they do."
+Wade scowled from the bench. "Share with the rest of us Advocate?"
+"Apologies Your Honor," Tuvok said. "Micro-tagging refers to the molecular encoding of a unique chemical sequence in every molecule of a nitrate charge so that, in case of accident or sabotage, the explosive can be specifically tracked."
+In the Gallery, Nat Hawk whispered again. "Note to self; make sure all my lawyers are ex-tactical Special Forces vets."
+"No shit." Carter agreed.
+"That being the case, the nitrate charges used by Shadow Force should be traceable, should they not?"
+Again, Forrest smiled. "Yes, Advocate." Forrest answered.
+"And Mister Forrest, do you know, SPECIFICALLY where the nitrate charges Shadow Force used to destroy the reclamation plant came from?"
+"Yes, Advocate, I do."
+"Your Honor, I must protest! Where is Mister Forrest going to conjure this proof from? Thin air? The prosecution has not been made aware of any such evidence."
+Tuvok spun quickly to face his adversary. "As the prosecutor is aware, this is only a preliminary hearing. Should we proceed to trial, discovery will dictate that both prosecution and defense gets copies of everything we have."
+From the bench, Wade slammed down his gavel. "Gentlemen, if you please. This is still my court room. I'd appreciate if you'd let me rule once in a while?"
+Both Cole and Tuvok nodded. "Of course your Honor," Tuvok offered.
+"Sorry, Judge Wade."
+"Thank you," Wade said. "Now, Mister Forrest. If you please, answer the question. Where did the nitrate charges come from?"
+"The charges came from the Cestus three duck blind stores Your Honor." Forrest answered.
+"And how do you know this?" the judge asked directly.
+"From the standing orders to the duck blind's personnel. When Republic was deployed to the region, I was updated with all S.I. correspondence in the sector."
+Wade nodded. "And you can confirm this?"
+"Yes, Your Honor."
+"Then I'm satisfied," Wade said simply. "Continue Advocate."
+"Thank you, Judge." Again, Tuvok turned to address his client. "What were these standing orders, Mister Forrest?"
+Forrest looked more grim than usual, inhaled deeply and answered. "To covertly assist the colonists in the event of an invasion."
+"Thank you, Mister Forrest." Tuvok said. "The defense rests, your honor," he said coolly, turning his head slightly to regard Mister Cole. "I am most anxious to continue with a trial. Unless of course the prosecution would like to discuss . . . alternative arrangements?"
+----
+"It's a stunning development Tobin," the Bajoran reporter said to her absent colleague.
+The young blonde was just one of dozens of reporters crowded around the conference room of Starbase 39-Sierra as the so-called `Republic Eight' exited the room that had been their crucible for the better part of two weeks as Tuvok and Cole went back and forth. All the news services could report for sure was that new evidence had come to light in the closing hours of the hearing which SOMEHOW drastically changed what all the experts KNEW would happen.
+"We just got word that the hearing was concluded, and the prosecution has decided to deal. Judge Wade did issue a statement explaining that he had been approached by Starfleet JAG, and that the investigation was, quote, ongoing."
+The young woman shook her head. "In that event, Tobin, I don't know when or even IF we'll ever find out what went on in there."
+"So that's it?" Asked the Effrosian anchor, "It's over?"
+The Bajoran reporter nodded. "We'll stay on the case Tobin," she offered sympathetically, "But for now, it looks like case closed. From Starbase 39-Sierra this is Li Darrin. Back to you."
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter33>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 33: Case Closed**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Judge Wade's chambers, Starbase 39 Sierra**
+"You're insane!" Cole shouted. "No time? How can you possibly expect me to go for that?" The prosecutor slammed his hand against the tabletop and fumed silently as he waited for Tuvok to reply.
+The picture of Vulcan calm, Tuvok held his hands loosely against his robes; a common gesture of contemplation or resignation. "Because the crew of Republic did not contribute in any way to the political deterioration of Cestus three. If anything, one can logically conclude that Commander Carter's actions, and that of his crew did in fact save more lives through their actions."
+"He broke the damned law, Advocate, or have you forgotten that?" Cole shot back with hostility.
+"Certainly not," the dark Vulcan answered. "Commander Carter admits that he broke the law by releasing footage of Captain Marshall's death, for which he will gladly accept administrative punishment. Further, his actions allowed the Federation Council to save some measure of face by allowing the loss of Cestus three to be caused by the defeat of James Marshall in ritual combat, which is in fact, legally, the case.
+Apart from the release to the media, Carter followed the letter of every order he was given, as did those in his command. In fact, the orders that the crew did not comply with can easily be shown to be at best unadvisable, and at worst, illegal."
+"You want me to pin the loss of one of the Federation's oldest colonies on a dead man?"
+"Either that," Tuvok answered with ease, or we drag the name of the live man who ordered the construction and staffing of the duck blind out in open court."
+In the corner of the room, Judge Wade watched with appreciation as Tuvok let the full weight of his rhetorical and legal prowess fall on Cole's shoulders. It seemed to the judge that Cole had not argued a case that was less than air-tight in quite some time, and it had likely been longer since he'd argued with a Vulcan.
+Wade let out a small grin as he wondered how Cole felt now that the tables had been turned on him. 'How unnerving is it,' Wade wondered, 'to face a man who holds all the cards and knows it?'
+"As an advocate, I am sworn to defend my clients and seek the truth, however, I am also a Starfleet officer, and sworn to defend the Federation. Public disclosure of this conspiracy to take the Gorn to war serves neither of those goals. It is enough that you and I know the truth and let history discover it later, but if you would rather not wait . . . "
+Cole braced himself against the table with his head slumped down. He'd been picked as prosecutor of the trial to see to it that the 'Republic Eight' took the fall for the loss of Cestus three, in the wake of a botched Starfleet Intelligence operation. Now, Tuvok was offering him a deal which still kept blame away from his shadow cabinet masters, but did not let retribution fall on the 'right' necks.
+What Cole hadn't counted on was the testimony of Douglas Forrest, Republic's shadowy Intelligence Officer, who had elected to expose more than his fair share of secrets rather than let his shipmates take the blame for circumstances they had no control over. Now Cole had to decide whether to complete his initial mission, despite the mounting odds, or serve the 'greater good' and let the full measure of the operation's failure remain hidden.
+Cole shook his head slowly among Section 31 operatives, failure was bad, but discovery was deadly, and given a choice between the two, Cole would elect to take the smaller defeat, and live to fight another day.
+"Fine." he eventually hissed. "Marshall takes the fall. But You give me Cromwell." Cole lifted his head and stared with predatory focus at the Vulcan.
+"Oh?" Tuvok said with a typical raised eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"
+"He caused an explosion! He killed hundreds, HUNDREDS of foreign nationals, and instigated his own guerilla war, complete with his own army!"
+"A war which a rogue element in Starfleet not only anticipated, but actively encouraged."
+"None the less," Cole continued, "While the Black Shirts might have planned it, Cromwell actually did it. And what's worse, he'd probably do it again."
+This time, it was Tuvok who had to concede a point. While the crew of Republic did not actually engage in hostilities, let alone admit to the action. In this case, the evidence backed Cole, and Tuvok needed to decided if discretion were the better part of justice, if not valor. "What do you propose?" He asked.
+An oily sneer crept across the prosecutor's face. He slowly brushed his pinky along his eyebrow, a gesture which by now, any observer knew was a tell of confidence. "Cromwell agrees to minimum security confinement. Might I suggest Elysium. He's old, and not in the best of health. I'll be more than happy to see that he's comfortable, but he cannot have any contact with Shadow Force."
+Tuvok nodded, seeing the logic of Cole's position.
+"In addition, the members of Shadow Force are guilty of being accessories to multiple counts of murder, act of war or not, and they will have to agree either to confinement, or expatriation from the Federation. If you get yours, I get mine."
+Grimly, Tuvok nodded. It was a good deal, and one that, while distasteful on some levels, would leave the battered reputation of Starfleet, let alone the Federation intact. "I believe," he finally said, "that I can make my clients see the logic in the arrangement. In any case, I will bring the offer to my clients."
+In the corner, Judge Wade regarded the scene. "Do we have a deal gentlemen?" he asked.
+"I believe we might." Tuvok admitted.
+"I can work with it Judge." said Cole.
+"Very well then," Wade said as he stood back up, heading for the door. "Let's get this circus packed up."
+As the trio exited Wade's chambers, headed back to the makeshift courtroom, he felt the weight of his antique gavel in his hand. "Justice isn't just blind," he whispered to himself. "I think I might have watched her die today."
+Wade crossed into the light of the main conference room. The bailiff stood and addressed the gallery. "All rise for the Honorable Judge . . . "
 ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter34>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 34: Hail and Farewells**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:with_justice_for_none#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\
+**Location: Outside of conference room 6 ("Republic Eight" courtroom), Starbase 39 Sierra**
+As people poured out of the courtroom, encountering members of the press and student protesters, everyone intermingled as they moved away from the doors to keep the exit clear. Leon was among the crowd, and moved aside to wait for his friends and family. As expected, two Starfleet bailiffs escorted a somber Arthur Cromwell through the exit causing the press to explode like a powder keg.
+"Mister Cromwell! Mister Cromwell!" they shouted. "Do you really feel responsible for the deaths of all those colonists?"
+"No," he muttered looking at the camera. "The Gorns invaded my home, and I fought back. That's all."
+"What about the Gorn soldiers? Do you grieve for them and their families?"
+"Absolutely not!" Arthur responded grouchily. "They attacked, and I fought back anyway I could."
+"Would you do it again, Mister Cromwell?"
+"No," he said turning away from the reporters. "I'm too damn old for this kind of thing anymore."
+"Alright!" Leon shouted, waving the press back. "That's enough! Leave him be!"
+The bailiffs held off the press corps while Leon and Arthur had a last moment together.
+"Well, dad," Leon started. "I guess the outcome could have been worse. I'm glad you chose not to take this to trial. They might have come down harder on you."
+"I know," Arthur replied. "I just wanted it to be done with. No amount of courtroom litigation or guerilla warfare will bring Janice and Ann back. There just doesn't seem to be any reason to fight the system anymore."
+He looked back at the press as they closed in on Tuvok and Cole, badgering them for information.
+"Besides," he added. "I'm the only one left who thinks what I did was right."
+"Oh no," Leon replied. "There's lots of others."
+His father looked at him with tired eyes, wondering if this would be the last time he ever sees his son.
+"Including me," the doctor stated.
+The two looked at one another, father and son, and without spoken words, twenty five years of animosity evaporated in the realization that all the family they had left was each another.
+"I'll stop by to see you at first chance I get."
+"Thanks, son," Arthur admitted.
+"And," Leon added, "I'll write you weekly. Even if there's nothing going on."
+"Hey!" came a shout from behind Arthur. It was Lindsey Davenport, who was leading Skip and Wey out of the courtroom. "What about us?"
+Leon and Lindsey embraced in a tight hug as she approached.
+"Well, that all depends," he answered, standing back to look at the other three members of Shadowforce. "Now that you're no longer Federation citizens, where are you going to go?"
+"Back to Cestus," Skip replied, causing a look of surprise on Leon's face. "The Gorns are granting amnesty to the colonists who refused to leave with the evacuation ships. Just as long as they relocate to where the Gorns tell them to go, they'll be left alone."
+"Aren't you afraid of retribution?" Leon asked.
+"No," Wey replied. "The Gorns were mainly after Artie, and now that he's been sentenced and the Federation has recognized that Cestus belongs to the Gorn Hegemony, they're happy and consider the situation resolved. It's funny how their culture works -- once they get an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, they go on with their business like nothing happened. That M'Geth guy thought that way, only he never felt like the situation between him and Kirk was resolved until now. He stretched his anger over a period of a hundred years. Can you imagine?"
+"Anyway," Skip added. "If healing is going to start on our side, it will have to start at Cestus."
+"Well," Leon replied. "Good luck. Let me know how you're doing from time to time."
+"We will," Lins concluded.
+As the bailiffs escorted Arthur away, and the remaining Shadowforce members made their way to the docking level, Leon looked after them deep in thought. He could not help but wonder where each of them would be a year from now and what they would be doing. Suddenly, a voice woke him from his day-trance.
+"Hey doc," Carter said, causing Leon to turn around and see not only him, but Hawk and Forrest as well. "Hell of a hearing, wouldn't you say?"
+"Hearing?" Hawk repeated. "Seemed a helluva lot more like a three ring circus ta me," he said. "Not ta mention the biggest bunch of bullshit in about a decade."
+"Dare I ask, what you're talking about?" Carter prompted.
+"Anybody else remember a lil thing called the Maquis?" Hawk retorted. "Bunch a colonists, displaced, screwed over by the Federation n'Starfleet, decided ta stick it out n'when push came ta shove, fight back? They were right then, n'Starfleet n'the Federation couldn't see past it's own bureaucratic nose ta spite it's political face. Look what happened there? Turns out them folks was right, Cardies never wanted peace, just more war. Took the Jem'Hadar massacrin' all them so-called 'terrorists' and a lil thing called the Dominion War b'fore 'Fleet n'the Federation Council would admit they screwed up."
+Leon looked at Nat, realizing that the helmsman had made an accurate correlation. Starfleet and the Federation had indeed made a mistake with respect to neighboring empires. Twice. And both times, a war had broken out allowing the powers that be to admit a mistake while the headlines were focused mainly on the war. Both times, the real perpetrators escaped justice.
+"He's got a point, John," The doctor replied, just as their communicators came alive.
+//"Republic to all personnel. Report to port-of-call. Departure in one hour. Repeat: departure in one hour."//
+"Hey," Forrest commented. "Don't we have a starship to run?"
+"Yes," Doctor Cromwell replied. "And unless we want to disappoint our new captain, we'd better go."
+"Be sure to dodge the media," Carter added. "They're probably already swarming the gangway."

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