Ensign Butterbar

From the Logs of the Starship U.S.S. Jaguar * NCC-74750

January 2380-July 2380

By Don W. Willits

w/thanks to: Scott A. Akers, Chris Wallace & Allyson Dyar

Table of Contents

Part 1: One of our Starships is Missing 1Chapter 1: No Refuge for the Innocent 1Chapter 2: "But I'm not a Marine, sir!" 3Chapter 3: Behind the Lines 13Chapter 4: Chaos, Refined 21Chapter 5: Aftermath 27

Interlude 31Part 2: The Dictates of Logic 33

Chapter 6: Signs & Portents 33Chapter 7: The Slobadan Puzzle 33Chapter 8: Maximum Response 33Chapter 9: The Other Side of the Coin 33Chapter 10: To Prevent a Greater Catastrophe 33

Interlude 35Part 3: By a Necessity of Nature 37

Chapter 11: Escalations 37Chapter 13: Move, Counter Move 37Chapter 14: Pre-Conceived Notions 37Chapter 15: Close Combat 37Chapter 16: The Burning of New Waco 37Chpater 17: The Rapidly Downward Spiraling Charlie-Foxtrot 37Chapter 18: Severe Escalations 37Chapter 19: Ye Olde Fashioned Snatch and Grabe 37Chapter 20: Reconcilation and Readiness 37Chapter 21: Operation [Censored] 37Chapter 22: As If By Fluke, The Birth of a Weimar Republic 37Chapter 23: Aftermath Redux 37

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Part 1: One of our Starships is Missing

Chapter 1: No Refuge for the InnocentThere were two schools of thought among the graduates of the Starfleet Academy class of 2380 regarding assignment to the newly commissioned USS Jaguar. The first was that it was a golden opportunity for a young Ensign to kick-start a fast-track resume with a high-profile assignment that any cadet would fight tooth and claw to get a chance at. The other thought it was a disaster waiting to happen for any officer with less than flag rank as. This was largely because the Jaguar itself was unusually top-heavy in this regard. If the Jaguar's C.O., Vice Admiral Chris Wallace was successful in his efforts, it would only get worse as his roving think-tank of former Starfleet brass continued to grow. Ensign Caleb Stein considered his offered billet on the Jaguar nothing but insanity, any junior officer under the rank of Fleet Captain was likely to going to get double the scut work as a result. He'd done everything in his power to politely reject the billet and accept one of several others on "normal" starships. Unfortunately, the decision to accept the offer had become far too difficult to resist, and thus far too easy to embrace the insanity of the Jaguar. For Caleb Stein's Vulcan wife, S'lek, had been offered a plum assignment on the Jaguar's engineering staff. The Jaguar was also the mobile headquarters for a number of premier publications that S’lek had been offered a contributing editorship to. For her, this collection of talent, as well as the fact that the Jaguar was serving as the roving headquarters for Dockyard Review, Janes Fighting Starships, and the Ships of the Star Fleet publications, it was also a dream assignment. Nor was he willing to spend their first years in Starfleet separated on different ships. He had long began begun to suspect his own position in Stellar CartographyAstrometrics was was--as much as anything--just a bone to entice S'lek aboard as anything.

For love, one could even embrace insanity, although not necessarily with willing arms.S'lek, in a particularly dry attempt at humor, gave him a present on their last night before arriving on Nexus Spacedock to transfer aboard the Jaguar. With some confusion, he unwrapped a PADD with replicator programming for a substance called Brass-O. He had to look up what the substance was used for, and S'lek watched him stoically as he fell out of his chair when he learned. As he pulled himself off the floor she explained the joke. "The Jaguar is slated for diplomatic work, the senior staff will no doubt need someone to polish their medals and rank epaulets," she reminded him. "Since I'll be busy on the new runabout designs, somebody has to do it." Her face was a mask of Vulcan stoicism--the more Vulcan she appeared, the more likely she was quietly tweaking his nose, the faintest hint of a mischief in her Vulcan heart. First impressions aboard the Jaguar…Caleb had quickly made a good first impression with Lieutenant Pi Yuakawa, who would be his "partner-in-crime" (as she put it) in the Astrometrics lab. Pi was friendly, open, bright, and very passionate about her work—someone Caleb knew he would get along with. Best of all, she was a junior officer like himself, no flag rank anywhere in sight.

They were in the process of completing final calibration of the lab, using the Obsidian system as a baseline, when he met the CO of the boat. Admiral Chris Wallace, was equally promising as CO—a seasoned veteran and whose friendly demeanor seemed to bypass the formalities imposed by their disparate ranks. Caleb was also surprised when "Chris" revealed a souped-up stellar cartography that would be his (and Pi’s) to play with. "I used to be the head of Stellar Cartography on Nexus when she was an old Centurion class station. I often like to drop by and visit, but I promise to check your work schedule before I do, to make sure you are not running anything delicate," Chris laughed.So much for the refuge, Caleb thought, but somehow the CO's warmth and friendliness didn't cause him as much concern as he would have expected.. Nothing like having the CO drop in during your duty shift…

"How is your wife?" Chris asked."For a Vulcan, excited, sir. She is really looking forward to this assignment," Caleb replied.Chris smiled. "We were fortunate to get her," he replied. "She has some very intriguing ideas on high-warp field dynamics that I am interested in experimenting with."Caleb paled slightly. Experiment? On an operational starship? At warp? He made a mental note to ask his wife just what the "ideas" she had were."Ensign, start running diagnostics, I want any major problems fixed before we depart Nexus,"Chris ordered, clearly delighted with Caleb’s involuntary grin."Yes sir!"As Pi and Chris walked out, the full Admiral remarked, "Now that’s the kind of enthusiasm I like to see…" Caleb heard both of them chuckle as the doors swooshed shut.Caleb floated in the immense space, the Obsidian system surrounding him, and with the wave of a hand he could zoom in, turn on sensors, turn off sensors, filter data. It truly was a Gods-eye-view, and intoxicating in its use. He instructed the computer to play some music, lesser known Q’einn and Mozart, and found himself almost dancing to the rhythms of the sounds as he set about to verify the astrometric database for the Obsidian system and calibrate the newly installed system. He was just beginning to feel some excitement about serving on the Jaguar when it all came crashing to a halt.Literally.The lights brightened, the holograms snapped out of existence, and Caleb fell to the floor, seeing a dark shadow standing in the doorway."Ahem," more a growl than anything else, Caleb scrambled to his feet."Yes sir?""On this ship, we applaud initiative, but it is normally good procedure, not to mention etiquette, to ASK permission from the current Officer of the Deck before engaging all of the ship's active sensor arrays, Ensign. If the Dominion War was still raging, you would have just announced our presence to every Jem-Hadar ship within 20 light-years." This was Lieutenant General Scott Akers, the ships Executive Officer, and rather strangely

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infamous Fleet Historian. Caleb knew of him vaguely by reputation, which itself was mixed in both its praise and condemnation.Akers leaned in very close, his deep incisors flashing as he smiled. "That would not be a good thing, Ensign. Not good at all.""Oh." Caleb murmured. "Yes sir, of course sir." He answered to the half-Caitian. Unwilled, the next comment came out despite all common sense. "Your not going to rip my throat out for this, are you sir?"Akers smiled, it was feral and brief, but the grin danced in his eyes. "Not this time, Butterbar. Everyone is allowed ONE mistake." He grinned again, another brief flash of incisors. "Be in my office at 0700, we'll go over your official duties. This is in addition to any assignments the Captain may provide." Then the XO was gone, twinkling out of Stellar Cartography in a blur of fur and uniform.What the heck is a Butterbar?

Unwilling to ask, sheepishly Caleb reactivated the systems, but this time remembered to request permission before lighting up the sector with enough active scans to power a small city. His first official day on-duty, and Caleb wondered how the Fickle Finger of Fate could possibly make the next one any worse.

Chapter 2: "But I'm not a Marine, sir!"The Jaguar bounced about Federation, as VADM Wallace engaged in nothing less than a full-scale recruiting drive, attempting to solicit former Starfleet brass into serving on board the newly commissioned diplomatic cruiser. Such a roving think-tank was the first of its kind, and Wallace was nothing less than determined it both be a successful one, and a model for other regional fleets regions within Starfleet. His drive to get Starfleet's best on board was only a few degrees short of an obsession, but one that seemed likely to pay off.How, Stein Caleb wasn't sure, because he had no time for high-concept shifts in Starfleet policy. He was more concerned with pleasing the XO, who insisted on calling him Butterbar, and had even encouraged others to do so. Stein Caleb even started thinking of himself by that nickname, signing one of his official reports as Ensign Butterbar instead of Ensign Caleb Stein. It Which was all the more frustrating, because as nobody would explain what exactly a Butterbar was!Akers was not satisfied with Butterbar's qualifications passed while at the Academy. Instead the General was requiring he re-earn his certifications under Akers high and utterly demanding expectations. Then there were the ship-board qualifications, with Akers insisting that all new officers and enlisted personnel set what felt like fleet records for qualifying on ship's systems. At least that was an exercise he could share with S'lek, who proceeded to pass through the grueling process with her usual stately calm. In this, Butterbar found some measure of relief as he himself struggled to memorize the location and specifications of various Jeffries tubes, plasma conduits and EPS Relay junctions.Akers was never overly critical, but he did let it be known he'd rather be working on his histories than nursing some junior officer through rudimentary shipboard training.Finally, relief!

Butterbar blinked, and three weeks passed by, but he was now certified to serve (on probationary status) on the bridge and to utilize the full facilities of both the Astrometrics and Stellar Cartography labs. He'd even been allowed on board both runabouts for several short detached missions. His assignment to night watch, alternating between the bridge and stellar cartography, though, gave the most relief as Lieutenant General Akers most assuredly enjoyed his beauty sleep. Which put him safely out of Butterbar's hair.Or so he thought.Near the end of Butterbar's second month on the Jaguar, while serving on another graveyard shift at Ops, he spotted something unusual on his sensors. As events transpired, he and the Officer of the Deck (who carried the rank of Fleet Captain and was still stuck with the mid-watch) viewed them with increasing concern. Before Butterbar knew it, he found himself facing the entire senior staff, clustered about the immense view screen in the bridge as Butterbar made his presentation. in the Conference Room at 0315 hours to explain what had just happened."At 0014 long range sensors detected the warp signature of twin LF-25 warp engines, which was shortly thereafter confirmed to belong to the USS Claymore." Butterbar started, but was interrupted."Helen's ship." Akers said and WallaceChris nodded. Butterbar remembered something about the Claymore being at or near Nexus when during the Jaguar was commissioned recentlying ceremony. With the OOD's nod giving him silent encouragement, Butterbar continued. "At 0258, the Claymore issued two brief com squirts. Here's the first." Butterbar keyed the computerconsole to replay the first message they'd received."Mayday, Mayday, USS Claymore is being hijacked. Mayday, Mayday…" There was a screeching burst of static and the transmission ended."Com systems squeal like that when hit by phaser fire." LGEN Akers commented softly, looking up from his PADD, where Butterbar secretly suspected he was still working on one of his infamous 'histories' of Starfleet combat.Butterbar continued, "We acknowledged their reply, but no response except for this, which was identified by prefix code as coming from the auxiliary bridge." Butterbar continuedpaused,. "It it was simultaneous with this second squirt that the Claymore altered course for Breen space via way of the Clandath’u nebulae." Butterbar tried not to count the number of flag rank pips from the assembled uniforms of those watching him as he played the message."Mayday… [static] Breen Hijackers… [pulsed pulsing static] They’ve taken the ship… [Screamsscreams] Help… [Extremely loud burst of pulsed pulsing Staticstatic]"WallaceChris turned to face the OOD who picked up where Butterbar now left off and continued the report. "We immediately reversed course for the Claymore, however, shortest time intercept, if they are heading for Breen space, means we'll have to pass on the opposite side of the nebulae. We'll loose contact with them for at least four hours, assuming they don't double back."WallaceChris nodded, studying the plot now displayed on the main viewer,. "And and if we follow them the long way around, they'll have at least six hours to change course undetected."

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Wallace nodded and rose. HeChris walked over to the security officer's stationthe wall panel and called up a tactical display. The Jaguar could hardly be positioned worse for pursuit of the rogue starship in regards to the nebulae. The hijackers were extremely fortunate in tThe fact that the nebula was almost directly in both starship'sstarships' path for the best course to Breen territory not-with-standing, the hijackers were extremely fortunate, and would cause the Jaguar to divert significantly from an otherwise best possible intercept course.Butterbar sighed and sagged in relief as he was now ignored while the senior staff clustered around the displaystation, lost in tactical details. He kept playing the second message back, noting it was somehow different in character than the first. A different voice, certainly, certainly but the bursts of static bothered him. The computer confirmed that the first message did indeed have phaser fire, but the second message remained an enigma. He started running some standard filter algorithms on the data, and the computer's conclusion was startling.He couldn’t account for it, even with phaser fire hitting near the pickups. On a lark he started running the entire message through standard decryption routines. "Excuse me, Gentlemen?" Butterbar asked the collected backs clustered around the Security console."What is it Ensign?" LGEN Akers asked."The second message. I think its fake, or at least manufactured in some manner. The computer estimates a 68% chance that at least one of those bursts of static are is some kind of encrypted comm burstsignal.""Two messages at once?" LGEN Akers asked. "A piggyback? The primary one meant to disguise the second?" Chris hypothesized.

"Possible, sir," Lieutenant Commander Senya Kinyin, the Chief of Operations, commented. "If so, then tThey probably assumed someone--us-- would intercept it.""Fast work." Akers muttered softly, and Butterbar thought at first he was commenting on the behavior of the Claymore, but then saw something like approval in the wizened old eyes."What do you think is on it?" Akers asked Commander Kinyin, who started running decryption routines on the static bursts.Senya shrugged. , "aA message that they had succeeded? A call for reinforcements? A rendezvous point?"Chris stepped away from the crowd at the security console, sat in his chair and studied the tactical display again. "Well, whatever it is, it was meant for whoever is in league with the hijackers,” Chris said. “We’ll still proceed on an best-time intercept course as planned to keep them from reaching Breen space. If that proves to be a red herring, we’ll double back. Ensign, I want you in the Avon, follow the Claymore’s original course and report in if you spot anything else unusual.""You’re sending Butterbar after the Claymore?" LGEN Akers shook his head in disbelief."He passed his quals, didn’t he?" Wallace Chris asked, a teasing timber in his voice."Yes, but…""Since you’re so concerned about the Ensign’s safety, Number One," Chris said with a sly smile. , "You you can accompany the Ensignhim on his journey. “Of course, by the time we find out we've followed the garden path, we're wrong, you two will likely have found the Claymore, rescued the crew and I'll return to find you both standing proud on the bridge, right Ensign?" WallaceChris said, teasing his XO."Yes sir!" Butterbar said with more conviction than he felt."On second thought, you better take the Coventry instead," Christhe CO saidoffered, referring to the ship’s larger modified Danube class runabout. "That way you can take some more Marines along with you, just in case you turn up something."Akers mumbled something that made Chris smile, looking looked at the EnsignButterbar and gestured for him to follow. "Come on kidButterbar, let’s go see if we can find you some power armor.""Power. Armor." Butterbar breathed softly. "But I’m not a Marine, sir.”!"Akers smiled. It was almost as frightening as his next words. "No, your not… Not yet."

* * *S’lek stirred, rolled over and opened her deep brown eyes. Butterbar froze, sensing her stare, and sat down next to her. Their fingers sought each other out. He always liked holding her hand more than the traditional Vulcan 'two-fingers touching' grasp, but either way it was warm and giving of her strength even as he returned it."Where are you going?" She asked, glancing at his duffel bag."Detached mission with the General and a squad of his grunting Marines." She raised one eyebrow, .

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"Your your favorite senior officer," she said of General Akers. "You can’t seem to escape him, can you," she added coolly."He’s like a fungus. No matter how hard you scratch, he just keeps itching.""Stop scratching then." ," sShe said, leaning up to kiss him briefly and then rolled over to go back to sleep. Butterbar watched her fall back asleep for a few moments, wondering how should be so Vulcan and yet so much more than that at the same time. He finished collecting his field gearthen proceeded to finish collecting his field gear. There wasn’t much room in his duffel bag, with the armor that Akers had provided, but he managed to squeeze it all in. As he lugged the 75 pounds of gear out of his quarters, he gave S’lek one last longing gaze and then departed for the hanger bay.

Contemplating spending the next few days with Akers and his Marines, Butterbar shook his head. Insanity!Insanity, pure, concentrated, distilled insanity.

* * *

Name Handle Rank Description Weapons FireTeam

Element

Major M. MyersAlso Chief of Security/

Tactical

The Major Major Armin Shimmerman with glasses compact

Phaser Pistol, Power Fist, Sonic Grenades, "The Look"

ALPHA

0

Dyrn G’rdun Flash Sgt. Major

Gunny Toomer, but Andorian, (Missah Akers)

Phaser Pistol, Power Fist, Sonic Grenades 1

Charles Brom Cookie Staff Sgt. Hefty with a graying beard Joe Don Baker

Sonic Grenades

Rufus Maksud Red Sergeant Red haired olive skinned lethal babe

Sonic GrenadesBETA

2

Thomas Irwin Dogbreath

Sergeant Very non descript everyman look except for his eyes

Grenade Launcher, Sonic Grenades

Name Handle Rank Description Weapons FireTeam

Element

William Praus Drag Corporal Tall thin goofy looking

Sonic Grenades3

Wilson Praus Frag Corporal Like his twin brother

Sonic Grenades

Neil Seusz Brow Sergeant Looks like a TOS Klingon

Heavy Phaser Rifle, Sonic Grenades G

AMMA

4

Roberta Donovan

Needles Corporal Tall thin, graceful, black hair

Sonic Grenades

Ebon McManus Blacky Corporal Looks like Christopher Lambert

Sonic Grenades5

Jamie Hovis Camper Trooper Older, Grandfather-ish, White Hair, Wilfred Brimley from Hard Target

Sonic Grenades

As Butterbar arrived in the hanger bay, Akers had his Marines lined up in formation besides the Coventry. Akers turned to give him a dispassionate gaze, with all the consideration one would give an astro-bus driver when commuting to work, cool gaze, and and Butterbar could feel the cold yellow eyes taking his measure. He had a brief vision of a heard of white tigers feasting on the remains of what had once been a green Ensign. Then the moment, thankfully, passed.Akers gave him a cursory introduction to the Squad. "This is Fifth Brigade, Fourth Battalion, Second Company, Fifth Squad." Akers intoned. The 11 highly dangerous looking Marines immediately gave a loud grunt that resounded off the hanger bay. Together, with Butterbar, they mustered aboard the Coventry, which was quickly filled to capacity as the Marines loaded their equipment on board. Butterbar found them to be surprisingly courteous, calmed his nerves, and the thought of these hardened veterans watching (and critiquing) his every move, but it was surprisingly cordial. Iin fact, they seemed to be going out of their way to make him feel comfortable. Except for the fact that they, like the LGENGeneral, insisted on calling him Butterbar. The Sergeant who insisted on being calledknown as "Cookie" (Military tradition, he informed Butterbar, there's always a Cookie in every unit going back centuries) helped adjust the armor that LGEN GeneralAkers had hurriedly thrown at him. "Blooming Officers, don't think twice about anything." Cookie muttered as he tried to adjust the

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plating to fit Butterbar's frame, apologizing for a poor fit that felt very comfortable to Butterbar. When Butterbar asked why that nick-name, the grizzled veteran smiled."Military tradition, son. Every Marine unit going back at least five centuries has a grunt named Cookie."Butterbar had a brief vision of a ceremony conveying such an honor down thru the ages, but quickly squelched it as Cookie pulled some straps tight around his chest. Once finished, Butterbar, Butterbar felt energized, and nearly punched his fist through the hull just leaning against it. "Careful, Butterbar, your protected from explosive decompression only if you have your helmet ON." The veteran solider offered by way of advice. For the duration of the flight, Butterbar left his gloves and helmet off, and his armor unpowered.He even got the nerve up to ask Cookie why he was called Butterbar, but Cookie only answered (again) cryptically. "Historical Precedent, son. Ask the Lieutenant General." Butterbar wasn't about to do that."Look at it this way, kid, at least their not calling you ButterBALL…” !" They both laughed and he found himself instantly liking Cookie. Between his demeanor and physical appearance which loosely resembled an old friend (the Professor who had introduced him to his wife), the Marine charmed Butterbar immediately. The differences were distinct though, Hiram Thornberry had been a devout pacifist, and wouldn’t have been caught dead in power armor. Even so, the resemblance made Butterbar feel much more at ease than he would have otherwise.

* * *Two hours from the nebulae, they lost sight of the Claymore as it disappeared around the far side. They lost sight of the Claymore approximately two hours before they reached the outer reaches of the nebulae. Once they arrived at the nebulae, they'd be able to determine whether the Claymore had continued on towards Breen space, or doubled back using Clandath'u as cover.For most of that time, Butterbar was left alone in the cockpit, while Akers and his Marines conferred in the aft of the vessel. Just as they arrived, Akers slid soundlessly into the co-pilots seat, startling Butterbar. One moment the chair was empty, the next...Akers plopped down heavily into the seat next to Butterbar's. "Sensors are not on full power again, I see." ," Akers said approvingly, looking at Butterbar's displays."Not yet, sYes sir, the Claymore disappeared behind the Clandath'u nebulae just a little while ago.," Butterbar said, bringing up the sensor analysis of the Claymore's course. Akers sat next to him, bringing up various data sets from the sensor packages and applying it to the data.

"We all agree, Butterbar, you can do wonders with the sensor package, pick signals out of static that few others could catch. But getting the extra juice with full power just tells your quarry you’re looking for them. You need to think about ways to accomplish the same thing get the extra juice without going active."Butterbar looked at him quizzically."So you don't advertise our location at the same time your finding the bad guys." Akers explained with a tone of exasperation."No, it wasn't that sir, just how would you go about doing that? Turning off your equipment always seemed like such a waste of time to me."Akers paused for a moment. "We've had four years of peace recently, but I don't expect that to last. Neither should you." He handed Butterbar a PADD with a list of texts detailing covert operations. "Here, you should have at least one of these read the day after we return to the Jaguar. To compensate for on obvious discrepancy in your Academy curriculum."

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Butterbar sighed. Each of the tomes that the LGEN General had downloaded werewas between 400-5000 pages in length. "We never had any of these at the Academy, General.""I know!" Akers shook his head. "What are they teaching kids these days?" He muttered as he got up andup and Cookie gave them both a knowing smile."Actually sir, one of the newest additions to the curriculum was 'Problem Solving Through Applied use of Sub-Atomic and Sub-Space Particulate Radiation Fields.'""Say what?" Cookie asked as Akers slapped his forehead in disbelief. Butterbar smiled sheepishly. "We called it 'Better Living Through Physics.' It was an entire semester course devoted to the use of various particles and fields in practical, real-world applications.""Such as…?" Akers asked skeptically."Probably one of the more entertaining examples is when a transwarp experiment conducted by the Voyager while in the delta quadrant caused the ship's helmsman to mutate into a hyper-advanced humanoid form which resembled a six-foot long salamander.""A salamander?" ." Akers asked rhetorically.."The EMH used it anti-protons to reverse the mutation and restore both the helmsman, and the CO back into baseline human form. Although we got a report that several years later both started to develop vestigalvestigial tails whicwhich had to be surgically removed.""Mere surgery?" Cookie asked, getting enthused, "He it didn't use chronoton particles to create a time inverse field to remove itthem?""Right…" Akers muttered and leaned towards Cookie. "Are you SURE you didn't make that armor too tight? I think its cutting of the circulation to Butterbar's head.""It's fine, I checked. Twice." Cookie offered helpfully. "Twice," he added when Akers continued to glared at him.."Put me in the transporter pattern buffer for the rest of the trip, I can't take much more of this." Akers sighed.

"Why not put him in instead?" The Jaguar’s Chief of Security, Major Myers offered helpfully, gesturing at Butterbar.

"I'm flying the ship." Butterbar said quickly.

"And we can't?" Akers replied, grinning, showing his teeth this time, and started making dramatic squeezing gestures with his hands."What's that?" Cookie asked."Just trying to figure out how small of a space I can stow the Ensign." Akers replied cheerfully.

Cookie put one hand on the General's shoulder. "Easy, General, times change, we have to change with them.""Sh-ure we do." ," Akers intoned, unimpressed.

* * *"That's it," Butterbar announced, "we're at the last confirmed location of the Claymore." He squinted at his displays, "look, sir!" "I see it," Akers replied. The Claymore had almost immediately dropped out of warp, and proceeded at impulse power into the depths of the nebulae. "What's wrong with this picture, Butterbar?""Too obvious for anyone who cares to look?" Butterbar replied.Akers called up the log of sensor activity, and nodded approvingly. "It isn't because you lit us up like a hyper-active pulsar," he smiled at Butterbar, "and that is a good thing."As they reached the fringes of the nebulae, Butterbar, like the Claymore before them, kicked the Coventry down to impulse power. Akers was sitting next to him again, fingers flying over the panels as he assisted Butterbar with tracking their course.

"There, the Claymore's Impulse Ion trail." Butterbar announced triumphantly. "They dropped out of warp, looks like their going to hide in the nebulae for a while."Akers put one hand on his shoulder. It was somehow comforting. "Good work Ensign, take us in."Butterbar sat in awe at the sheer size and majesty of the Clandath'u nebulae. Stretching for nearly five light years and created millennia before by three nearly (astronomically speaking) simultaneous supernovas, he resisted the urge to power up the sensor pack's and try to probe its secrets. The faint brackish green phosphorescent glow cast an eerie illumination in the cockpit of the Coventry, giving everything in the cockpit of the runabout a sickly tinge. At irregular intervals, static discharges would erupt, like some kind of nightmarish lightening, and illuminate parts of the nebulae. The Claymore's course slipped in and out of the nebulae's fringes, at times with only their impulse ion trail to follow. Other times the chaos eddies left by the Claymore's wake were still swirling in stiff slow-motion currents. A faint whisper crept along the hull as they traversed through heavier concentrations of gas and dust.Butterbar deftly plotted their course negotiating through the outer edges of the nebulae, following the trail of the Claymore. The Ion trail fluctuated sharply. "They slipped up to 2/3 impulse here, sir." Butterbar reported.Akers rubbed his chin. "A little faster than I'd take, perhaps, but within limits. Steady as she goes, Ensign."Butterbar watched his passive sensors, measuring the disturbance the Claymore had made as she passed through, and comparing it to the Coventry’s own passage. Butterbar shook his head. "I think we're being led down the Garden Path, General.""Explain, Butterbar.""Why go into the nebulae at all? Why the jockeying to unsafe velocities? Its like they're trying to hide their real course. While we waste time trying to cover our bets…"

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"…They're pulling a fast one." Major Myers concluded. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to Akers. "The kid could be onto something."Akers gestured for him to continue. Butterbar stammered for a moment then sat up straight in his chair. "If they passed through the same region twice at ½ impulse, it would look like they'd gone through at 2/3 impulse. They could instead slip to the side, and with the larger wake, we might not notice their exit point. They'd be inside the nebulae while we pass by, wasting time looking for them on the other side. They're inside the nebulae, sir. Sirs." Butterbar added sheepishly looking between the Major and the General."Prove it…""I could time bursts of our active sensors with the static discharges, and only along our aft trajectory. That way if they broke off we'd find it, and with reduced risk that they'd detect our sweeps." Butterbar said, "We could also follow a spiral course around their trajectory, say a kilometer beyond the wake turbulence. That way if they did slip off course a second time, we'd be more likely to pick it up." He sighed as if in exhaustion. "With your permission, General."He nodded. "Make it so, Ensign."They found numerous suspicious eddy currents that appeared to be the Claymore breaking course, but they turned out to be false leads. Akers sat silently next to him, occasionally pointing things out, but more often nodding--ever so slightly--in approval. Finally, they found it. A very clear, if small disturbance that did not peter out like the previous ones. "That's them General." Butterbar breathed, excited by his discovery and terrified because it meant combat would not be far away now."Nice work Ensign. Dispatch a Message Buoy to inform the Jaguar of our current course and position, then take us in. ETA to Jaguar picking up the buoy?" He asked."If they realized the Claymore never emerged from the nebulae, two hours minimum, sir." Butterbar nodded, "Let's just hope we get to the Claymore before any of their reinforcements arrive." ," Cookie Cookie mumbled."If they have reinforcements." ," Butterbar added hopefully."Trust me, son, there are always reinforcements," Cookie Akers replied.The journey was hellish, Butterbar inching his way through the brackish colored nebulae, this time using careful bursts from his active sensors directed aft ensure the path they were following was correct. They passed through deeper concentrations of gas, and static discharges buffeted the ship ruthlessly. These same charges were also steadily degrading the Claymore's path making it more difficult to follow. Akers was grinning now with that feral smile, and rubbing his beard. "There!" Butterbar shouted, bringing the Coventry to an abrupt halt as another static burst washed over the craft. Grumbling Marines announced their displeasure at the sudden shift in momentum, which hadn't been compensated for adequately.

"I don't see it." Cookie said, leaning over Butterbar's shoulder. Butterbar just smiled confidently as they drifted out of a particularly deep pocket of gas into a relatively thin bubble. On the far side, the Claymore gleamed sickly green, apparently drifting."Thrusters only, Ensign, and very delicately, slip us back, and then around." Akers got up and went to confer with his staff. It was difficult work and during it, Butterbar managed to pick up snatches of conversation."…Worried about those other traces… reinforcements? Kid did good, real virtuoso with… act now before they get any help… Maze on deck 6… disable the ship if we can't… Find the crew first and foremost… Three turbo shaft choke points on Decks 6… Secure the stair wells… Bring the grenade launcher and the heavy weapons…"Half an hour later, the Coventry was again sliding into the gas bubble and directly underneath the Claymore. The intense static discharges surrounding the bubble disguised their approach perfectly, even if giving the increasingly testy Marines a very bumpy ride. Butterbar halted their approach exactly 10 meters below the lower navigational dome. "LGEN, we have arrived. Their shields are down, and I doubt if they've seen us." Butterbar reported, shutting down the engines and powering up his own armor."Good work, Ensign," Akers said, turning crisply to his second-in-command, ". Major Myers, ! I want that ship back. Deploy your troops.""Yes sir!" Myers answered and his Marines snapped briefly to attention. Butterbar felt the Danube rock slightly from the force of their motions.Akers nodded and peered past Butterbar out the main viewportview port. "We have us a starship to rescue." Suddenly Akers didn't seem nearly so frightening to Butterbar if only because that savage glare wasn't directed at him (for a change).He almost felt sorry for the hijackers

Chapter 3: The Slobadan ShuffleBehind the Lines"Ensign, you're crushing the data crystal membrane. Turn your armor off until you leave for stationEVA." Cookie advised and Butter bar looked down to see a deep impression in his console where he'd been pressing with his gloved fist. Greening Grinning sheepishly, he reached up to the control panel on one wrist and deactivated the power systems.Cookie nodded and then handed him a small imperial purple cloth bag with a yellow cord. "Here, in case you need them. Security bypass modules, just like the ones Frag and Drag are using." He gestured and Butterbar focused on the lower navigational dome. The sensors inside his helm automatically compensated, and zoomed in on the region, where two power-armored Marines were already slipping inside the access hatch. "Just pop open the panel for any given door or hatch, slip one of these babies into the circuit panel, and viola. Instant access without any door alarms tripping." Cookie said proudly."Cookie baked them himself." LGEN Akers said softly, watching alongside them. "If you ever want to knock over a bank, he's the first one you want to ask for help.""General! You're corrupting the boy."

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Akers grunted and got up. "Depressurize the main cabin, Ensign, and you can follow us over." He paused and looked at Butterbar, "We'll leave you in electrical, and if things get hairy, you bug out, and go fetch the Jaguar, you understand?""How will I know when to...?" Butterbar couldn't finish.Myers smiled at him grimly, "trust me son, you'll know."Cookie rubbed on shoulder affectionately, "yeah, when they start shooting at you! Shoot back, then run.""Riiight..."Butterbar had extensive experience in zero-gee, but he found it surprisingly easy inside the power suit, which compensated for the environment almost before he needed it too. Flight between the two vessels was smooth, direct, and more accurate as Butterbar had ever could have hoped to do in regular pressure suits. The extra gear he was ferrying over for the Marines was hardly cumbersome at all. He was curious, though, what the large pancakes of white material were for. Like blocks of old-fashioned cheese, only far lighter even in a gravity field, just large and bulky. Butterbar had received zero-gee training, of course, but not in the bulky power armor the Marines had given him, and certainly not armed to teeth with phaser rifles and… security bypass modules. They put Butterbar to work lugging equipment over to the Claymore. Butterbar wasn't sure what they were for, other than the fact the Lieutenant General had enough weapons to blow up a good part of the Saber-class vessel's primary hull if things got bad enough. "Probably not without rescuing the crew first." ," Blacky had replied when Butterbar had asked about that possibility.Butterbar arrived aboard the Claymore in the The journey was quick, and before he knew, it he was in the main sensor array compartment, and from there quickly climbed into the Electrical Control space, where most, but not all, of the Marines were clustered. Butterbar saw dozens of security bypass modules, and variants thereof, scattered across the open circuit breaker panels for the entire ship. Cookie was clapping his hands, as if brushing them off. "That's it General, we can't do any more here."Akers nodded, "Major, deploy your troops.""Gamma-Five, secure that lift, then proceed to choke points on Deck 6," Myers barkedgrowled. The lean and compact Major, having taken his antique glasses off when he donned his power armor helmet, noddedcontinued. "Beta Fire Team, you've got port and forward stairwells, Gamma-4, starboard. Alpha, youryou're with me in the central shaft. We'll meet at aux and then proceed to the Brig."Butterbar tried not to let his fear of being left alone show. Blacky and Camper, the members of the Gamma-5 fire time, didn't give him much time to worry about it. The two Marines opened up a hatch, reached in and ripped out a large section of conduit housing. "Didn't want to leave the phaser emitter circuits intact, anyway," Blacky said at Butterbar's surprised look. Still grinning, he walked over to the turbo-lift, wedged it open while Camper placed one of the pancakes of Styrocal "Circuit panels A, B, C, and D. Just like we have on the Jaguar except for these." He held up another cloth bag and rattled the dozens of bypass chips inside. "Same idea as what cookie gave you earlier, only we can cut power to any part of the ship we want. Nice thing about these is they'll detect any attempt to re-route, and cut power to where the bad guys try to reroute from. For the most part, we're using them for security sensors and internal force fields."

"What if somebody shoots a hole in the hull." Butterbar asked, his nervousness showing more than he liked.Camper smiled, and despite the armor, his grandfatherly demeanor seemed to comfort Butterbar. "Don't do that. Structural integrity fields will likely respond correctly, but do keep your helmet and gloves on, just don't turn on the power beyond the minimal setting needed to move. These are delicate, if you shove one in too hard, you'll short out entire hull spaces and likely yourself."Behind them, Blacky had wedged open the turbo shaft doors. Butterbar could hear the distant whine of turbolifts, but none came to their compartment. "See, Blacky can open that without any security sensors tripping because of the bypass module he planted on the access panel." Camper said, lecturing as he walked over behind the Marine. Blacky took the pancake shaped canister of Styrocal and placed it squarely in the center of the shaft. Blacky held the conduit over the pancake and winked at Butterbar. Camper then handed him a two meter length of conduit. "See kid, official Starfleet regulation nozzle. Insert into Styrocal chamber like so." He jammed the conduit into the pancake. "Twist and activate Styrocal." He punched several buttons on the access panel for the Styrocal, and a fountain of white foam erupted from the end of the conduit, streaming high into the turbolift shaft.. "The trick is not to let it expel the conduit before its finished erupting." Blacky offered, pressing the conduit deep into the pancake. Camper leaped into the shaft, and started squeezing the deflating pancake around the edges towards the conduit.Butterbar peered inside the shaft, and for a length of 3-8 meters above him, the Styrocal was congealing on the sides of the turboshaft. It was like some kind of surrealistic dripping nightmare of hardening white goo. "Between our spoofing here," he Blacky gestured to the panels, "and the fact that Styrocal's so light, it won't set off the debris sensors in the turboshaft--they'll never know this is in here. However, the car will automatically stop at the closest exit, reporting a normal, unobtrusive malfunction." "Where we can give them a proper reception," Camper said smiling. smiled, iIt was like being menaced by a friendly, charming, white-haired old man--armed to the teeth.. "Where we can give them a proper reception."Blacky nodded, pleased, as the Styrocal finally ceased erupting, Camper stepped out, carefully wiping off the several bits that had dropped onto his armor. Butterbar poked at several droplets that had congealed just above the lift doornear the door. They had already hardened into rock-hard consistency. Camper Marine pulled out several sonic grenades, activated them and threw them on top of the globs of Styrocal above him. "In case anybody decides to look in on you from above," he said gently, winking at Butterbar."We'll be back with Captain Harrington, Butterbar. Stay here and wait for orders," Blacky added as the two Marines bounded out of the Electrical.Ensign Caleb "Butterbar" Stein found himself standing next to the wedged open turbo shaft, accompanied only by the occasional and infrequent dripping of semi-hardened Styrocal.

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"We're leaving you here, Ensign, and we'll be sweeping the ship from here to the Bridge. You should be okay, but if you encounter any of the bad guys, shoot first, ask questions later." Camper gave him a grin, then the two Marines bounded out the compartment and out of sight.

* * *The time stretched on for hours. A starship is not normally silent, there are creaks, bumps, systems activating and adjusting, pulsing with the life of the craft, even when silent running. At the slightest bump of noise, Butterbar stirred, trying to balance vigilance with inadvertently phasering a hole thru the hull. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by shooting one of the Marines if they returned unexpectedly.Butterbar tried to pace softly, but found he couldn’t do so without slamming his feet into the deck. The footfalls seemed to echo interminably, and he tried standing in one place, but he kept fidgeting. Beads of sweat shown on his forehead, it seemed soaked a cloth rag he found and still kept perspiring. He turned up the cooling unit on his power suit to no avail.Waiting for the explosions to begin, the screams, the dying… Butterbar checked the chronometer to see how many hours had passed since Akers and his Marines had departed.Five minutes.(Less than five minutes, but he rounded up to feel less chagrined).Caleb Stein wasn’t comfortable with the combat aspects of Starfleet. He knew it happened, he knew that a starship could be an extremely hazardous place, even in peace time, but being this close to it made him distinctly uncomfortable. The attention of the XO, blatantly, unapologetically a Starfleet Marine, had only been exacerbating that discomfort these last two months. It wasn’t the XO personally, although he could be an extremely demanding task master—it was Caleb Stein. Butterbar. Uncomfortable with the Marines he’d let that intimidate him, push him down, and in so doing, had not Caleb "Butterbar" Stein inhaled and exhauledexhaled deeply, several times, focusing just on breathing.Comrades, shipmates, some who he could feel that in time would be friends—were going into harms way. He wasn’t a Marine, but he was a Starfleet officer, highly trained, capable and proactive. He wasn’t the best choice to lead a fire team to retake the Claymore, but he had other strengths, ones that could serve him, and his fellow Starfleet officers and crew well.Butterbar sat down in front of the main console, smiled, and prepared to……do nothing.He couldn’t think of anything he could do that would be useful to Akers and his Marines beyond just waiting for them to request his backup spoofing ships systems.Still smiling, Butterbar breathed in and out one more time. Start with the basics. Who is the enemy? Breen…

Opening up a secure link back to the Coventry, Butterbar did what he did best—filter and manipulate data. Looking for something he could use to defeat the enemy.

* * *"No sign of the Claymore, Chris," Bill Tillman announced, not entirely surprised.Chris stood up and peered across the console and looked at his [Security officer]."The Coventry," they both said in unison."Lieutenant Steele [XXX], prepare to alter course!" Wallace saidbarked.

* * *Any kind of commuicationcommunication, especially when being stealthy is problematic due to the possibility of intercept. Starfleet Marines alternated between a thin isolinear fiber or with Akers preferred choice, communications relay chips. Small, resembling small pieces of lint, they blended in well with the carpeting that was standard issue on 24th century starships.When Butterbar’s power armor chirrpedchirped, he just about jumped out of his skin.

LGEN Akers, Major Myers, and their Sergeants proceeded up the central stairwell. Akers shook his head at the lack of any additional detection circuits. The Breen were being very arrogant in their assumption that they could have complete control of the ship. They were also much better versed than Starfleet believed in shipboard operations to have taken over the ship this effectively.Akers and the rest of Fire Team Alpha reached Auxiliary control first. Just outside, near the briefing room, carbon scoring marked the halls. Akers ran his fingers lightly across one of the marks. Consistent with Starfleet issue phaser's. The greatest moment of tension came when they opened the doors to Aux Control. Nobody fired back at them, and Cookie was the first to step inside, and instead of darting to cover, he just stood there, in the opening, starring. "General…" He breathed softly.The firefight in auxiliary control had been brutal, not one console had been left unscathed by multiple blasts of energy. On the floor, what looked like a tricorder attached to a portable transporter inhibitor resembled a melted lump of slag. Great gouges had been ripped in the deck plating, and the Captain's chair sat a distinct angle.No bodies, though, and no blood.Myers came up to Akers. "Not all of them went down without a fight," he said.

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"Cookie, anything?" Akers asked as the Sergeant sat down trying to interface with ship's systems. "I'd almost say this was done after the fire fight, they want control on the bridge and nowhere else."Steadily, the other three elements arrived, having taken longer only in that they spent time on Deck 8 sabotaging the cooling systems for the phaser emitters. Akers planned on having the ship back before WallaceChris could arrive, but why take chances? Chief Engineer Hilton would be mad as hell if Akers allowed the Claymore to scratch the Jaguar's paint job.It was Akers goal to disable the ship if he couldn't outright retake it. His Squad reunited except for Blacky and Camper, Akers ordered his troops to the bridge and sick bay. Akers was confident he could retake the ship if he had too, but having reinforcements, even regular Starfleet, wouldn't hurt.As they proceeded to the brig in covering formation. The deck was deserted, no patrols by Breen, no phaser burns, no battle damage (except for the luckless Auxiliary Control), nothing to indicate that the ship had ever been inhabited by 200 officers and crew. The armory was nearly full, except for what would normally be distributed to active duty personnel.The sick bay and brig were equally disappointing. No casualties, no sign of trauma or treatment of wounded. The brig itself was virtually empty, force fields off, cells unlit, except for one.Except for the Senior Chief cowering in the last cell.Now, perhaps, some answers... * * *Blacky and Camper followed up the central stairwell, stopping at Deck 6. It took some practice to run up stairs in powered armor without crushing the metal, but both were adept and fleet of foot.On Deck 6, they emerged cautiously in the Crew's mess, first using small mirrors to peer inside, but the compartment was dark and empty. This deck was mostly enlisted quarters, and some support of Engineering and the hanger deck. It also offered three very unique points, weaknesses they thought, in the ship's turbo shaft system. The first, and also hardest to get to from their present position without using the turboshaft system, was the central shaft that ran from the bridge down to Deck 9. They could mount a cake of Styrocal on Deck 6 and block most of the spoke shafts that radiated off the central shaft and cut the ship in half. Two more cakes, one each at the end of shafts on deck 6 radiating towards engineering, would cut that section off from any immediate aide. For all three points, they'd mount remote detonators, not wanting to tip their hand too early by cutting off any more of the ship's turboshaft system than they had to.First they'd cut engineering off, due to the layout of the ship, but to do so they had to traverse half way along the outer edges of the deck. The run and stop covering formation grew tiresome quickly, but paid off when Blacky spotted a patrol of four Breen soldiers. Camper followed Blacky's lead, and they slipped inside the quarters of two

enlisted rates while the patrol passed by. Camper kept watch on the patrol, while Blacky scouted the quarters, preparing to blow a hole in the back wall (and into another set of quarters on the opposite side) if they needed an emergency escape route.The patrol passed without incident and they proceeded the rest of way to their first target without interruption. They first opened the access panel, inserting several bypass modules, then closing it. Camper summoned a car, and both Marines fell back into recessed doorways in case anyone stepped out when it arrived.It was empty.Stepping inside, Camper wedged the doors shut and then opened access panels in the car itself. More bypass modules were inserted, while Blacky started rigging modified stun grenades both within the car and outside, as well as planting a heavy cake of Styrocal in the car itself. Camper carefully slid out of the car and allowed the doors to close, but not quite all the way. Engineering was now 50% isolated from the turboshaft system, it was time to get the other 50% and then block the central shaft.What had felt like an eternity, had actually taken only 90 seconds once the car had arrived. Both Marines were sweating, and it wasn't from their exertions. * * *Akers deployed most of his squad's elements to patrol Deck 7 and get ready to start ambushing Breen on Deck 6. Then he turned his attention back to the Senior Chief they had just liberated from his cell in the brig. He was wearing ship's coveralls, of medium height, and slightly emaciated, Arnold was stenciled onto the lapel pocket of his coveralls. "About bloody time somebody came for us…" He announced as Akers introduced himself by removing the force field. "I thought the cavalry would never arrive." Chief Arnold said, brushing himself off."We're Marines. Starfleet doesn't have cavalry." LGEN Akers gently corrected him. "Lieutenant General Scott Akers," Akers said, handing the scrawny Chief an armored paw in greeting. The Chief shook it eagerly."Senior Chief Ben Arnold, USS Claymore, at your disposal, General." Akers snapped away from the Chief as one of his Myers requested his attention. "We've got a patrol of 3 Breen on Deck 6, Frag and Drag are in position, should they engage?"Akers looked at the chief, there was one question he wanted an answer to before he committed himself to an overt combat status. "Not yet, let them pass for now. Major Myers, get Beta-2 started for engineering." The Jaguar would likely arrive soon, Akers wanted them to do something about ejecting the warp core."Yes sir!" Myers answered crisply. That left Akers alone with the Chief. He led the man to a conference room still within the security section. Breen usually took slaves whenever possible, he couldn't believe they were all spaced. It would be harder to retake the ship without the crew, but possible."Can I help with anything General?" The Chief asked.Akers shook his head. "Later, for now I need answers"

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"Your starship isn't nearby?" The Chief asked before Akers could start his own questioning. It was annoying."On its way. We're going to do our best to retake the ship in the meantime.""With just a squad of Marines?" Arnold asked.Akers smiled at him, "I could send half my men back to the runabout and make it a fair fight, if you'd prefer."Chief Arnold shook his head, there was the faintest hint of a smile, as if something pleasing were being held back. "No, that's quite all right.""Major, while I finish here, start preparing to spoof life support." Then Akers turned back to their survivor for the interrogation. * * *Any kind of communication, especially when being stealthy is hazardous due to the possibility of intercept. That's why the Starfleet Marines used thin fiber optic wire, or LGEN Akers preferred choice, com relay chips, strategically dropped as his troops proceeded to invade the Claymore, which used line of sight maser Comm. This was a fact that the Marines had neglected to inform Butterbar of before leaving him alone in Electrical. When Butterbar's com badge beeped inside his power armor, he just about jumped out of his skin."Ensign, this is Major Myers. We need you to run a check for us.""Yes sir…?, what is it?""Claymore crew complement, can you confirm a We need you to look up a Chief Benjamin Arnold," confirm he's a member of the crew." "Stand by…" Butterbar answered, resetting his display of the Coventry’s database. Accessing the computer core was still dangerous, but they had brought a copy of the Claymore's last known ship's manifest with them, and Butterbar pulled the PADD out with that information."Downloading to your suit now, sir," Butterbar answered. "Senior Chief Benjamin Arnold, reported lost aboard the Scimitar in 2373 in action along the Klingon frontier. Recovered by the Claymore two months ago while on patrol near the badlands. He'd apparently spent the last several years marooned on a Class L planetoid. After debriefing, Captain Harrington took him as a member of the crew.""Thank you, Ensign." Myers clicked off.Butterbar was still mulling over the Major’s query when the red alert klaxon’s went off, and the boards in front of him started lighting up. The battle to retake the Coventry had begun in earnest. Butterbar could hear squirts of battle language over the power armor's com system. This wasn't nearly as clear or succinct as the distant thump of explosions or the occasional faint shrill whine of phaser fire.

"Butterbar, kill power any containment fields that come up!" Akers snapped, "keep sharp!""Aye sir!"A few moments later Butterbar heard a rush of footfalls outside of electrical. Pocketing his PADD’s, and wielding his phaser rifle, he stepped to one corner."Butterbar, help me out here…" Myers ordered, stepping inside and carrying a semi-conscious Starfleet crewman, his hands manacled, and spilling him onto the floor like a rag doll."Meet former Senior Chief Ben Arnold," Myers huffed over the red alert klaxon, "and collaborator with the Breen hijacking this ship.""Sir?""A decoy, bait left for anyone foolish enough to try a rescue.," Myers frowned sharply. , "k"Keep him unconscious, and stay sharp, Ensign, its about to get hairy!""What about the crew?" Butterbar asked as the Marine checked his cover and prepared to leave."No sign," was the soft reply, "except this one." Myers Butterbar half-saluted as the Marine checked his cover, and then disappeared up the stairwell to rejoin the fighting. Butterbar noticed * * *Red's handle was easy enough, she had brilliant red hair that occasionally gave her more attention than she wanted. Her training more than amply compensated with any paramours who couldn't take a polite hint to go mate with a plasma conduit. Dogbreath, though, his handle came from a rather embarrassing shore leave on Risa that he'd never quite been able to live down. Other than that he was plain, non-descript except for the eyes. They made a good team, and the fact that they were married only seemed to enhance their combat skills, not degrade them.They departed security, proceeding down a hallway next to transporter room 4, and without breaking their stride, Dogbreath slipped a bypass module in the panel for the Jeffries tube there and helped his wife inside. It wasn't a long trip up to deck 6, but in power armor and lugging their weapons, it was cramped. Red cautiously cracked the Jeffries tube access panel that opened on deck 6 and peered into the hallway.ALL CLEAR, She gestured to him and he nodded, trigging the access panel to open all the way. BOOBY TRAP, She gestured in battle language, pointing to where Blacky and Camper had sabotaged one of the nearby lifts. If you knew what to look for, the flash-bang-stun's they'd left were as plain as day. Fortunately, Blacky was an expert at making his booby trap's look as unobtrusive as possible. Still, careful not to set anything off, they proceeded down the hallway.They had to cross through the starboard hanger deck to reach the engineering section, which in some ways would be the most hazardous because of the large, multi-deck, open

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space. They were in the process of peering out the window of the parts storage compartment they'd entered which bordered the hanger bay when they saw something that made them both stop in their tracks.Instead of a Starfleet issue shuttlecraft, some immense mottled green and black ship sat, filling the entire three story hanger deck with its bulk. The hull was bristling with sensor pods and what could only be weapons hard points. It also showed numerous signs of battle damage. Mis-matched hull plating, long and deep carbon scoring, and a general sense of maintenance being more of a luxury than the owners would like. There was no sign if anyone was on board or not, but both were confident they couldn't spoof that. At least not in the time the General had given them.CIRCLE AROUND? She asked and he nodded. Reaching Engineering was going to take much longer than they'd thought.Butterbar came scrambling up the stairwell and slammed directly into the General. He handed the trussed and groggy Senior Chief to Butterbar. "Here, take this back to the Coventry, strip him and put him in a containment field. We already did a bodily orifice scan. DO NOT TALK TO HIM." He handed Arnold's trussed up body to the Ensign then turned away."Yes sir!" Butterbar answered, grabbing the groggy Chief and began dragging him down the stairwell.“Oh and Butterbar…" Akers said as Myers put one hand to his ear.“General?”“Be careful, its about to get hairy.”tButterbar nodded and turned back to his load. The ship’s intercom system was active now, with Breen scratching noises echoing off the walls. Butterbar tapped his com badge, but tried the universal translator--but it was of no use. He checked the boards—so far Cookie’s jury rigging was holding. Considering his options, Butterbar decided to put the Chief in a pressure suit. He pulled open a panel and found several of the baggy kind designed for rapid ingress. The bulky shape allowed him to keep the Chief secured while still providing protection. The man looked older than the records Butterbar looked up—more like Arnold’s father than Arnold himself. The Chief was groggy, and started mumbling as Butterbar stuffed him inside. "Where…? What…?"Butterbar took his phaser and considered stunning the man—but he couldn’t.The Chief blinked his eyes as if they could focus for the first time since being stunned, his eyes widened and he looked around in sudden fear. "Eologian…! Must warn Eologian!"Butterbar ignored him, finished wrapping him the suit, leaving the hood open despite the urge to seal it, and sat back down at the console. Dull explosions continued to echoechoed through out the ship—and he could hear the distant whine of phaser fire—moving further away.New w

As he reached deck 10, he began putting an emergency pressure suit on the chief, who was starting to rouse. “Where… What?" He muttered.“Easy Chief, we’ll have you out of here in a flash.”“Eologian… must warn the Eologian.”“Right Chief, we’ll get them warned just as soon as I get you back aboard the Coventry." Butterbar had no time to think about what the Chief was talking about. Warning tell-tales started flashing on the electrical distribution panels as . Butterbar paused for a moment in lugging the Chief over to the ladder to look at them. As he did so, a new vibration rolled through the deck plates, reminding him of ana temblor he experienced once on Vulcan.The battle was fast moving, he could see from the winking lights its progress through the ship as systems were damaged or failed completely. Akers Marines were in three groups, two racing for the bridge, one in a pitched battle in Engineering. At this rate the Claymore would need to be towed back to Nexus for repairs. He wasn't sure she could take much more.A thermal cooling unit failed in the crew decks and it finally hit him. How he could help. "This is nuts…" Butterbar muttered and returned to the trussed, and now suited up Chief. The Marines were going to be slaughtered, and he wasn’t going to sit idly by and let it happen. He thought back to some of his courses at the Academy, seminars on Breen physiology and even on the cooling systems of their uniforms. An idea began to germinate, and Ensign Caleb Butterbar started to smile.If Akers or any of his Marines had seen it, they would have started to worry immediately. An Ensign with an idea behind the lines is even more dangerous than an Ensign in the battlefield.That was just when the turbo shaft door blew in.

* * *No plan survives contact...An axiom that was never more true than in General Akers attempts to retake the Claymore. First, there was no sign of the crew--it was as if they had vanished completely. Akers didn't like to contemplate the implications of that fact. There were some signs that the takeover hadn't been immediate, but not many, other than the scorched hull plates outside and within the auxiliary bridge, the vessel was in pristine condition.Then there was Senior Chief Arnold. In hindsight, obvious bait which had worked all to well. The former Starfleet chief had tripped the alarm system, alerting the Breen to their presence. Akers was almost ready to take a more direct approach, but he would have preferred not having the choice made for him.Finally there was the Breen--there were far too many of them on board. Passive scans had revealed only a dozen, yet after ten minutes of harried fighting, he estimated they'd easily disabled at least three times that many.Casual inspection revealed why they were so easily defeated--they weren't Breen!Some kind of distant Cardassian/Bajoran hybrid, with some other sapient species that the tricorder couldn't identify mixed in. Upon close inspection, the Breen "uniforms" were

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anything but. Soiled, frayed, and on the verge of falling apart, they offered little or no protection to the soldiers masquerading as Breen. What they lacked in armor and sophistication, though, they made up for with tactics of desperation. Akers recalled historical accounts of Marines fighting off "human waves" at Chosun--this was in the same spirit. The enemy didn't attack so much as roll towards them like the tide. So far the tactics were surprisingly effective--sheer weight of numbers was keeping him and his Marines on the run. The fighting was a total furball.He dodged across a hallway, following Myers and a fire team into an officers wardroom on deck six. "Firecracker, gentlemen," Akers snapped. Myers threw him one of their specials,

Dismayed by the sheer weight of numbers, Akers decided it was time to shift gears. "Firecracker, gentlemen." Akers ordered. Not getting cut off (by any means necessary) and recovering Gamma-2 would be their immediate goal.

The fighting on Deck 6 had erupted into a total furball. Around every corner, it seemed, were dozens of Breen warriors, screeching in that indecipherable language of theirs. It echoed off the halls.

Akers dropped a stun grenade, kicking it in the corner of a recessed doorway as he ran down the hall, and then followed Myers and Cookie into a crew quarters. The Breen chasing them came skidding around the corner as the grenade came off, taking out the first three warriors. Akers and Myers slid out of the doorway and picked off three more, before the responding fire grew too intense. Cookie had already blown a hole in the wall, leading them into a another cabin, and from there, into a clear hallway.

Cookie and Akers took a moment to position one of their "specials" -- a modified flash-bang-stun grenade using some ancient principles of Chinese pyrotechnics.Cookie cut a hole in the back wall, and they started filing through into the next compartment. Akers set the grenade, heard the shuffling of approaching enemy, and dodged into the next compartment. As he passed, Cookie slid a partition to one side, covering their escape from immediate attention.The first fake-Breen stepped into the compartment, setting off the grenade. The solider slumped, and Akers heard the thump of two more outside the hallway. Several more cautiously stepped in, covering the room as the second half of the grenade went off.Akers and his fire team were already gone as the cabin filled with explosive bits of fire and smoke--fireworks from another era, erupting out into the hallway and trashing the residence of some poor unsuspecting member of the Claymore's crew.

The fake-Breen following them stepped back in surprise, not realizing the show was mere light and smoke, breaking their cover in the process and being cut down by Cookie and Myers, who had already circled around and were coming up behind them.All told the op had taken out almost a dozen fake-Breen, and Akers suit tell-tales started flashing, indicating at least as many were nearby, ready to take their place.

The Marines left the quarters just as more Breen came tumbling through the hole Cookie created. The stun grenade went off, and bursts of purple explosives started firing out systematically across the room. Several Breen warriors halted, looking down at their uniform where the fireworks landed, expecting to be shot.

Zap! Zap!

Akers and Cookie peered around the open doorway, and picked off several more Breen who were stunned not by the grenade, but by the harmless fireworks that had landed on their uniforms. The last of the Breen collapsed from the two Marines blasts.

"Idiots." Akers commented, then turned to follow Cookie. Meanwhile, the original grenade started firing more fireworks, which would hopefully startle, and slow down, the Breen that would inevitably follow.

They turned another corner, only to be caught in a crossfire from Breen who were ambushing them. The power armor absorbed or deflected most of the shots, but Akers and his Marines did take some damage trying to back out of the corridor.

"Son of a sea-going salamander!" Akers commented to his Marines once they were under cover.

Myers shook his head. "Where are they coming from?"

"Doesn't matter, we'll kill them all if we have to." Internally, though, Akers was worried. To have this many troops for the hijacking of an Escort class like the Saber—it spoke volumes for the desperation of the hijackers. For the first time, security force fields started to slam into place. Akers and Myers exchanged a look, and just shot out the emitters embedded in the side of hallway.Akers looked at Cookie closely, "your bleeding." He said, pointing to the older man's left arm. Breen were many things, but this desperate was a rarity.

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The hole in the deck was still dripping bits of melted deck plate and conduits as Akers followed his Marines onto Deck 5. Blacky and Camper were nearby, waiting to ambush the Breen who would pursue them, of course. Akers was starting to get worried, they were inflicting immense damage on the ship, much more and there'd be a hole breech. He still wasn't convinced the crew were completely missing, but they had not time to find out. Right now it was a race to the bridge, with the Breen in hot pursuit.

"General, look at this!" Myers indicated a Breen corpse lying across a jagged hole in the wall of the compartment they'd burst into. The helmet had been smashed open, and the face, though damaged, was instantly recognizable.

"Cardies?" Akers asked. Myers nodded.

"That's not possible. The Breen Cardassian alliance has been over for four years." Cookie offered.

Akers heard some noise from deck 6 below and stepped out of the room, tossing several grenades behind him as he did.

Despite Cookie and Butterbar's efforts, the security force fields finally started slamming into place. Akers and his Marines had an easy answer for this -- simply start shooting the walls, ceiling and deck, until the force field emitters finally collapsed. However, when you're trapped in a hallway with twenty Breen/Cartesians, whose weapons are able to penetrate (partially) standard Starfleet security fields, then the choice of shooting them or the force field emitters becomes more complicated.

Cookie collapsed the field, and they slid around the hallway corner, providing some much needed cover. The Breen/Cardies started blasting holes in the corner, removing that cover as Cookie and Myers started on the next Force fields.

"What's that?" Akers asked Cookie as he punched through the next force field, pointing to a dark stain on his arm. Cookie shook his head, and Akers looked closer. "Your bleeding."

"Oh." Cookie replied, shooting at the emitters for the next force field in the hallway. "I just polished that." He said softly. It was dry humor, but it also meant that Cookies power armor was not going to be able to protect him from phaser fire much longer.

There was an explosion and the Breen/Cardassian's chasing them were felled by the Bajorans which were now beaming into the ship, regardless of Forcefields, and seemingly at random locations.

Akers did a quick inventory, four of his 9 Marines with him were wounded to one degree or another. Blacky had a nasty limp he acquired right when they linked back up. Frag's right arm hung limply at his side (fortunately he was left-handed).

They were on Deck 4, and it wouldn't be long now. Either they'd start falling and the Claymore would stay hijacked or Akers could reach the bridge and end the conflict from there fairly quickly.

It was a horse race, and Lieutenant General Akers hated horse races.* * *

Butterbar roused to find the Electrical center demolished—panels hung loose if they were attached at all, the deck was cluttered with bypass modules and powdered Styrocal. The turbo lift doors were wrenched open, one lying on the floor in several pieces. Butterbar got up, tried to raise the General—got static. Either his suit was damaged or... easier to believe it was damaged.

Butterbar’s PADD blinked, and he looked at the warning message. The Coventry had detected signs of multiple vessels in the surrounding nebulae, apparently using a trick similar to his own to narrow in on their position.They weren’t the Jaguar, he was certain of that.

LGEN Akers, Major Myers, and their Sergeants proceeded up the central stairwell. Akers shook his head at the lack of any additional detection circuits. The Breen were being very arrogant in their assumption that they could have complete control of the ship. They were also much better versed than Starfleet believed in shipboard operations to have taken over the ship this effectively.

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Akers and the rest of Fire Team Alpha reached Auxiliary control first. Just outside, near the briefing room, carbon scoring marked the halls. Akers ran his fingers lightly across one of the marks. Consistent with Starfleet issue phaser's. The greatest moment of tension came when they opened the doors to Aux Control. Nobody fired back at them, and Cookie was the first to step inside, and instead of darting to cover, he just stood there, in the opening, starring. "General…" He breathed softly.The firefight in auxiliary control had been brutal, not one console had been left unscathed by multiple blasts of energy. On the floor, what looked like a tricorder attached to a portable transporter inhibitor resembled a melted lump of slag. Great gouges had been ripped in the deck plating, and the Captain's chair sat a distinct angle.No bodies, though, and no blood.Myers came up to Akers. "Not all of them went down without a fight," he said. "Cookie, anything?" Akers asked as the Sergeant sat down trying to interface with ship's systems. "I'd almost say this was done after the fire fight, they want control on the bridge and nowhere else."Steadily, the other three elements arrived, having taken longer only in that they spent time on Deck 8 sabotaging the cooling systems for the phaser emitters. Akers planned on having the ship back before WallaceChris could arrive, but why take chances? Chief Engineer Hilton would be mad as hell if Akers allowed the Claymore to scratch the Jaguar's paint job.It was Akers goal to disable the ship if he couldn't outright retake it. His Squad reunited except for Blacky and Camper, Akers ordered his troops to the bridge and sick bay. Akers was confident he could retake the ship if he had too, but having reinforcements, even regular Starfleet, wouldn't hurt.As they proceeded to the brig in covering formation. The deck was deserted, no patrols by Breen, no phaser burns, no battle damage (except for the luckless Auxiliary Control), nothing to indicate that the ship had ever been inhabited by 200 officers and crew. The armory was nearly full, except for what would normally be distributed to active duty personnel.The sick bay and brig were equally disappointing. No casualties, no sign of trauma or treatment of wounded. The brig itself was virtually empty, force fields off, cells unlit, except for one.Except for the Senior Chief cowering in the last cell.Now, perhaps, some answers... * * *Blacky and Camper followed up the central stairwell, stopping at Deck 6. It took some practice to run up stairs in powered armor without crushing the metal, but both were adept and fleet of foot.

On Deck 6, they emerged cautiously in the Crew's mess, first using small mirrors to peer inside, but the compartment was dark and empty. This deck was mostly enlisted quarters, and some support of Engineering and the hanger deck. It also offered three very unique points, weaknesses they thought, in the ship's turbo shaft system. The first, and also hardest to get to from their present position without using the turboshaft system, was the central shaft that ran from the bridge down to Deck 9. They could mount a cake of Styrocal on Deck 6 and block most of the spoke shafts that radiated off the central shaft and cut the ship in half. Two more cakes, one each at the end of shafts on deck 6 radiating towards engineering, would cut that section off from any immediate aide. For all three points, they'd mount remote detonators, not wanting to tip their hand too early by cutting off any more of the ship's turboshaft system than they had to.First they'd cut engineering off, due to the layout of the ship, but to do so they had to traverse half way along the outer edges of the deck. The run and stop covering formation grew tiresome quickly, but paid off when Blacky spotted a patrol of four Breen soldiers. Camper followed Blacky's lead, and they slipped inside the quarters of two enlisted rates while the patrol passed by. Camper kept watch on the patrol, while Blacky scouted the quarters, preparing to blow a hole in the back wall (and into another set of quarters on the opposite side) if they needed an emergency escape route.The patrol passed without incident and they proceeded the rest of way to their first target without interruption. They first opened the access panel, inserting several bypass modules, then closing it. Camper summoned a car, and both Marines fell back into recessed doorways in case anyone stepped out when it arrived.It was empty.Stepping inside, Camper wedged the doors shut and then opened access panels in the car itself. More bypass modules were inserted, while Blacky started rigging modified stun grenades both within the car and outside, as well as planting a heavy cake of Styrocal in the car itself. Camper carefully slid out of the car and allowed the doors to close, but not quite all the way. Engineering was now 50% isolated from the turboshaft system, it was time to get the other 50% and then block the central shaft.What had felt like an eternity, had actually taken only 90 seconds once the car had arrived. Both Marines were sweating, and it wasn't from their exertions. * * *Akers deployed most of his squad's elements to patrol Deck 7 and get ready to start ambushing Breen on Deck 6. Then he turned his attention back to the Senior Chief they had just liberated from his cell in the brig. He was wearing ship's coveralls, of medium height, and slightly emaciated, Arnold was stenciled onto the lapel pocket of his coveralls. "About bloody time somebody came for us…" He announced as Akers introduced himself by removing the force field. "I thought the cavalry would never arrive." Chief Arnold said, brushing himself off."We're Marines. Starfleet doesn't have cavalry." LGEN Akers gently corrected him. "Lieutenant General Scott Akers," Akers said, handing the scrawny Chief an armored paw in greeting. The Chief shook it eagerly."Senior Chief Ben Arnold, USS Claymore, at your disposal, General."

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Akers snapped away from the Chief as one of his Myers requested his attention. "We've got a patrol of 3 Breen on Deck 6, Frag and Drag are in position, should they engage?"Akers looked at the chief, there was one question he wanted an answer to before he committed himself to an overt combat status. "Not yet, let them pass for now. Major Myers, get Beta-2 started for engineering." The Jaguar would likely arrive soon, Akers wanted them to do something about ejecting the warp core."Yes sir!" Myers answered crisply. That left Akers alone with the Chief. He led the man to a conference room still within the security section. Breen usually took slaves whenever possible, he couldn't believe they were all spaced. It would be harder to retake the ship without the crew, but possible."Can I help with anything General?" The Chief asked.Akers shook his head. "Later, for now I need answers" "Your starship isn't nearby?" The Chief asked before Akers could start his own questioning. It was annoying."On its way. We're going to do our best to retake the ship in the meantime.""With just a squad of Marines?" Arnold asked.Akers smiled at him, "I could send half my men back to the runabout and make it a fair fight, if you'd prefer."Chief Arnold shook his head, there was the faintest hint of a smile, as if something pleasing were being held back. "No, that's quite all right.""Major, while I finish here, start preparing to spoof life support." Then Akers turned back to their survivor for the interrogation. * * *Any kind of communication, especially when being stealthy is hazardous due to the possibility of intercept. That's why the Starfleet Marines used thin fiber optic wire, or LGEN Akers preferred choice, com relay chips, strategically dropped as his troops proceeded to invade the Claymore, which used line of sight maser Comm. This was a fact that the Marines had neglected to inform Butterbar of before leaving him alone in Electrical. When Butterbar's com badge beeped inside his power armor, he just about jumped out of his skin."Ensign, this is Major Myers. We need you to run a check for us.""Yes sir, what is it?""We need you to look up a Chief Benjamin Arnold, confirm he's a member of the crew." Accessing the computer core was still dangerous, but they had brought a copy of the Claymore's last known ship's manifest with them, and Butterbar pulled the PADD out with that information."Senior Chief Benjamin Arnold, reported lost aboard the Scimitar in 2373 in action along the Klingon frontier. Recovered by the Claymore two months ago while on patrol near the

badlands. He'd apparently spent the last several years marooned on a Class L planetoid. Captain Harrington took him as a member of the crew.""Thank you, Ensign." Myers clicked off. * * *Red's handle was easy enough, she had brilliant red hair that occasionally gave her more attention than she wanted. Her training more than amply compensated with any paramours who couldn't take a polite hint to go mate with a plasma conduit. Dogbreath, though, his handle came from a rather embarrassing shore leave on Risa that he'd never quite been able to live down. Other than that he was plain, non-descript except for the eyes. They made a good team, and the fact that they were married only seemed to enhance their combat skills, not degrade them.They departed security, proceeding down a hallway next to transporter room 4, and without breaking their stride, Dogbreath slipped a bypass module in the panel for the Jeffries tube there and helped his wife inside. It wasn't a long trip up to deck 6, but in power armor and lugging their weapons, it was cramped. Red cautiously cracked the Jeffries tube access panel that opened on deck 6 and peered into the hallway.ALL CLEAR, She gestured to him and he nodded, trigging the access panel to open all the way. BOOBY TRAP, She gestured in battle language, pointing to where Blacky and Camper had sabotaged one of the nearby lifts. If you knew what to look for, the flash-bang-stun's they'd left were as plain as day. Fortunately, Blacky was an expert at making his booby trap's look as unobtrusive as possible. Still, careful not to set anything off, they proceeded down the hallway.They had to cross through the starboard hanger deck to reach the engineering section, which in some ways would be the most hazardous because of the large, multi-deck, open space. They were in the process of peering out the window of the parts storage compartment they'd entered which bordered the hanger bay when they saw something that made them both stop in their tracks.Instead of a Starfleet issue shuttlecraft, some immense mottled green and black ship sat, filling the entire three story hanger deck with its bulk. The hull was bristling with sensor pods and what could only be weapons hard points. It also showed numerous signs of battle damage. Mis-matched hull plating, long and deep carbon scoring, and a general sense of maintenance being more of a luxury than the owners would like. There was no sign if anyone was on board or not, but both were confident they couldn't spoof that. At least not in the time the General had given them.CIRCLE AROUND? She asked and he nodded. Reaching Engineering was going to take much longer than they'd thought.Butterbar came scrambling up the stairwell and slammed directly into the General. He handed the trussed and groggy Senior Chief to Butterbar. "Here, take this back to the Coventry, strip him and put him in a containment field. We already did a bodily orifice scan. DO NOT TALK TO HIM." He handed Arnold's trussed up body to the Ensign then turned away.

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"Yes sir!" Butterbar answered, grabbing the groggy Chief and began dragging him down the stairwell.“Oh and Butterbar…" Akers said as Myers put one hand to his ear.“General?”“Be careful, its about to get hairy.”Butterbar nodded and turned back to his load. The ship’s intercom system was active now, with Breen scratching noises echoing off the walls. Butterbar tapped his com badge, but the universal translator was of no use. As he reached deck 10, he began putting an emergency pressure suit on the chief, who was starting to rouse. “Where… What?" He muttered.“Easy Chief, we’ll have you out of here in a flash.”“Eologian… must warn the Eologian.”“Right Chief, we’ll get them warned just as soon as I get you back aboard the Coventry." Butterbar had no time to think about what the Chief was talking about. Warning tell-tales started flashing on the electrical distribution panels. Butterbar paused for a moment in lugging the Chief over to the ladder to look at them. As he did so, a vibration rolled through the deck plates, reminding him of an temblor he experienced once on Vulcan.“This is nuts…" Butterbar muttered and returned to the trussed, and now suited up Chief. The Marines were going to be slaughtered, and he wasn’t going to sit idly by and let it happen. He thought back to some of his courses at the Academy, seminars on Breen physiology and even on the cooling systems of their uniforms. An idea began to germinate, and Ensign Caleb Butterbar started to smile.If Akers or any of his Marines had seen it, they would have started to worry immediately. An Ensign with an idea behind the lines is even more dangerous than an Ensign in the battlefield. * * *The ship’s alert started whooping as Red and Dogbreath finally were crossing behind the hanger bay. They slipped through the cargo hold above the bay, when a commotion below caught their attention. Dogbreath slipped over to the side of the bay, where he could see into the hanger deck below.Dozens and dozens of Breen were pouring out of the strange craft they’d viewed earlier.Too many Breen for such a small ship.“They must really pack them in there.” Red murmured. When Dogbreath reached 50 he was tempted to stop counting.It wasn't even a question, they had to risk contacting the General. Eluding the Breen patrol had forced them to interrupt the com net that Marines would normally deploy in a situation like this. They'd have to risk interception of a transmitted message.Dogbreath reached a count of a 100 Breen when Red finally made contact. She keyed in the message in encrypted battle language.

EXPECT 100+ REINFORCEMENTS FROM STARBOARD HANGER BAY.She didn’t know what kind of resistance the General was facing, but it was about to get worse. Much, much worse--especially if the portside hanger-bay had a similar vessel. * * *Akers arrived with Myers in time to receive Dogbreath's message, however the fire team and baiting element on Deck 6 hadn't picked it up. Which explained why they were still proceeding with the planned on bait-and-stun without concern. Flash and Cookie of Element Alpha-1 were the bait, catching a Breen patrol's attention, and then fleeing, only to lead the pursuing Breen into a crossfire as Beta-3 and Gamma-4 ambushed them. So far they'd racked up nearly 10 Breen that way, groggy and secured in a randomly selected crew cabin.Akers looked up the stairwell, from above he could hear vibrations of pounding feet. Lots of pounding feet. "Major, secure that stairwell." He ordered, and then left to pull the rest of his fire team back together.Major Myers slid up to the fifth deck, swung underneath the stairwell, and began planting stun grenades. He took an entire bandoleer and mounted it above the deck 5 doorway. Then he slipped back down to deck 6 while he still could. As he made it out of the stairwell, he heard the doors hiss open and probably a dozen Breen surged down the stairs, their heavy feet triggering the grenades.Myers estimated at even dozen Breen were caught in the blast, most rendered unconscious for the better part of a day, some closest to the bandoleer perhaps even fatally injured.It didn't matter, more Breen pushed their bodies aside and surged onto Deck 6, Myers, Akers and the rest of the Marines barely eluding them.Dismayed by the sheer weight of numbers, Akers decided it was time to shift gears. "Firecracker, gentlemen." Akers ordered. Not getting cut off (by any means necessary) and recovering Gamma-2 would be their immediate goal. * * *Butterbar arrived in the Coventry to the sound of screeching alarms. He dropped the Chief on the floor and ran to the cockpit. Passive sensors were picking up signatures of other ship's nearby. At least one seemed to be following the Coventry's own path to find the Claymore. Butterbar started swearing. Repeatedly. He was an Ensign, he hadn't learned truly creative profanity yet. He couldn’t tell if the other ship was going to arrive quickly, or linger, they seemed to be taking their time. That was good--he needed all he could get.The battle was still raging, he could hear distant explosions and still pick up phaser fire. There appeared to be some kind of running battle going on in the turbo shafts from the echoes that kept drifting downwards.If it wasn't for the fact that fighting had broken out,

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it was likely the hijackers would have picked it up as well. They hadn't started running yet, or firing at the Coventry, so he could only hope the combat would keep them busy. Busy enough they wouldn't be able to summon their reinforcements arrival more directly, Butterbar hoped.Butterbar was on deck 10, deck 7 had numerous transport platforms, ships services, auxiliary bridge, and a backup electrical control. He wasn’t sure how he could continue to follow his orders, but he wasn’t about to give up for lack of trying. He was trying figure out how to take the Chief with him up to Deck 7 when the problem was solved for him.Three figures materialized in the room with him.A trim figure in a stylized body armor that was a cross between duranium composite and block leather turned to face Butterbar, looked up him and down once and spoiled the moment for Butterbar, who was deciding if he should to shoot, by speaking. “Ensign, what’s going on?" The Chief asked."Nothing! Be quiet!" Butterbar snapped, this man was getting extremely annoying.“You don’t understand, Ensign, There’s more to it than you can possibly know." The Chief was struggling to sit himself up against the bulkhead.“Would you be quiet? Please?!?”“They're out there, aren’t they?" The Chief said, peering at the consoles Butterbar was working on. “15 Mhz band, an increase in impulse ion phase reflection, right?”Butterbar looked up at him. “How did you know?”“The Slobadan, they're here." The Chief shook his head. “Please, you have to let me warn my friends, they’ll be sitting ducks." First Eologian, now the dreaded Slobadan? What the heck is a Slobadan? Butterbar thought to himself.“Shut up or I’ll shoot you myself." Butterbar growled, getting up and dragging the Chief back to the transporter pad. “I’ll get you some food and water later, for now this will have to do." He propped the chief up into the chamber, then activated the containment field.“Ensign, let me out of here, I can help you. You don’t know how much danger your in…”At that moment, three figures, of seeming Bajoran descent (but without the ear rings and in decidedly non-Bajoran black uniforms), materialized on the Coventry in front of the control panel.“Greetings Ensign, I am Special Inspector Fawkan of the Slobadan Hegemony's Enforcer Division. I believe we can be of assistance.”“Ensign Caleb Stein, USS Jaguar,” Butterbar answered, hesitantly shaking Fawkan’s outstretched hand. “ * * *The fighting on Deck 6 had erupted into a total furball. Around every corner, it seemed, were dozens of Breen warriors, screeching in that indecipherable language of theirs. It echoed off the halls.

Akers dropped a stun grenade, kicking it in the corner of a recessed doorway as he ran down the hall, and then followed Myers and Cookie into a crew quarters. The Breen chasing them came skidding around the corner as the grenade came off, taking out the first three warriors. Akers and Myers slid out of the doorway and picked off three more, before the responding fire grew too intense. Cookie had already blown a hole in the wall, leading them into a another cabin, and from there, into a clear hallway. Cookie and Akers took a moment to position one of their "specials" -- a modified flash-bang-stun grenade using some ancient principles of Chinese pyrotechnics.The Marines left the quarters just as more Breen came tumbling through the hole Cookie created. The stun grenade went off, and bursts of purple explosives started firing out systematically across the room. Several Breen warriors halted, looking down at their uniform where the fireworks landed, expecting to be shot.Zap! Zap!Akers and Cookie peered around the open doorway, and picked off several more Breen who were stunned not by the grenade, but by the harmless fireworks that had landed on their uniforms. The last of the Breen collapsed from the two Marines blasts. "Idiots." Akers commented, then turned to follow Cookie. Meanwhile, the original grenade started firing more fireworks, which would hopefully startle, and slow down, the Breen that would inevitably follow.They turned another corner, only to be caught in a crossfire from Breen who were ambushing them. The power armor absorbed or deflected most of the shots, but Akers and his Marines did take some damage trying to back out of the corridor."Son of a sea-going salamander!" Akers commented to his Marines once they were under cover.Myers shook his head. "Where are they coming from?""Doesn't matter, we'll kill them all if we have to." Internally, though, Akers was worried. To have this many troops for the hijacking of an Escort class like the Saber—it spoke volumes for the desperation of the hijackers. Breen were many things, but this desperate was a rarity. * * *“Ensign Caleb Butterbar. I’m not familiar with the Slobadan Hegemony…." Think very carefully, Ensign, Butterbar thought to himself. This was just getting way too scary. Breen, Eologian, Slobadan? What exactly was going on here? The intruders were in trim black uniforms sported only a single , with only a single ornament, --a gold medallion embedded in the fabric--, if a stylized dragon encircling a symbol vaguely familiar symbol.“Slobadan Hegemony. We’re a democratic state on the far side of the Cardassian Empire. We’ve long heard of the Federation but tThis is our first opportunity to make contact. --I wish it was under more civilized circumstances." ," Fawkan looked around the devastated compartment with a gesture bordering on disdain.leaned forward in the cockpit to peer at the Claymore.

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“I have to apologize Ensign. It seems some insurgents, rebel malcontents and social reprobates, really, decided to steal one of your vessel's. We would like to offer every assistance to recover it intact and with minimal loss of life.”Butterbar blinked several times, looking at the stately Bajoran. He was also hearing through his com system that intense fire fighting had started on Deck 6. I'm not a Marine. He shook his head. I'm not trained for this.

The General would not go for that—this was a Starfleet vessel and a Starfleet matter, time to change the subject! "Was that your ship out there? We picked up traces…""Likely, yes. Your own wake was substantially harder to follow than theirs,” Butterbar smiled despite himself, the General would be pleased. Ours, however, make no mistake, the criminals that have seized your ship do have their own reinforcements on the way. We received the same signal that likely allowed you to follow them here." Fawkan pulled out what had to be the equivalent of a PADD and pressed a control. The second distress message that had come from the Claymore played back. "Mayday… [static] Breen Hijackers… [pulsed static] They’ve taken the ship… [Screams] Help… [Extremely loud burst of pulsed Static]"Fawkan commanded his attention somehow. Through charisma or force of will, Butterbar found it hard to watch the Slobadan Officer and keep track of the two other Enforcers that had beamed over with him, and so far were silent. “You may have picked up two distress signals, the first was authentic, the second They quietly slipped into the rear of the runabout.Fawkan tilted one head. "Embedded in that message was an encrypted signal informing the criminals co-conspirators of their intended course. Make no mistake, we both arrived here first, but more are on their way."Was it an offer of assistance, or a threat? Before Butterbar could decide, matters escalated. The two Enforcers with Fawkan picked up Senior Chief Arnold and threw him against the bulkhead. Arnold roused from his stupor, glanced at the two men holding him, and then begin to writhe in terror. Before he could slip from their grasp, one neatly dropped him, chopping him behind the neck as he did so. Arnold fell to the deck in a heap.Butterbar was there before he could even think about, tricorder out, searching for some sign of life—a pulse, anything. The two Enforcers stepped back, and Butterbar rose in one smooth motion, jamming his phaser ruffle into the neck of the Enforcer who had murdered Arnold. “You did not have to do that.” Butterbar spat each word out. “He was our prisoner, you murdered him!”“Ensign, be reasonable.”“This is a Federation vessel. This , it is a Federation matter. Leave. Now.” Butterbar didn’t even turn to Fawkan, his eyes and that of the Enforcer’s were locked in a deadly glare. “Don’t make me ask you again,” Butterbar said softly. Fawkan gestured, “very well, but this is not settled Ensign.” He waved one hand over his wrist, and all three began to beam out. Butterbar stepped back and looked at Fawkan, and just nodded his agreement. It was by no means over…

Akers comment when Butterbar informed him of the developments with Fawkan was a non-committal grunt, and a reminder to stay out of the way.The ship echoed with a vibrating, rippling explosion. Bits of debris leaped into the air and then fell back down, leaving trails of dust and powder behind. Butterbar reached down, picked up the PADD he had been doing research on the BREEN, and tucked it a pocket.The hallways were empty, occasionally he saw scorch marks from the fighting, and on Deck 8 he passed underneath a jagged hole that extended upwards at least three decks. Balancing a desire to peer upwards and the hope of not being seen, he carefully skirted around the opening and tired not to be seen. The battle was always distant, and were it not for the obvious signs of combat, he could have believed himself alone on the vessel.Explosion, range 25 meters.

Sonic Grenades (7), range 38 meters.

The suit’s tell tales kept him painfully aware just how close he was to the fighting.Finally he reached the double transporter room he wanted. The room was intact, untouched, pristine. Stepping between the two consoles, he found the backup electrical panels he wanted. Opening them he had an instant picture of the Claymore’s condition and the damage she was suffering from the fighting.The Claymore was dying. Butterbar doubted she could even make warp speed. As if in answer to that thought, he observed the anti-matter pod storage system eject itself, crippling the vessel. In answer, the lights diminished sharply.Butterbar studied the panel—the display—something was wrong. The ship's power distribution system... he suddenly saw the reason why the force fields were not coming on, and it wasn't just Cookie's spoofing.Turning and looking around the compartment, Butterbar smiled. He'd found the crew.

“I’d have to check with my CO, things are a little chaotic over there right now.”Fawkan smiled. "Yes, we'd detected signs of combat onboard the Claymore. It is seldom stately or organized, Ensign. Be reasonable, you should accept any and all help we have to offer.”“Right…" Butterbar mentioned, then activated his link on the circuit. “General, good news, we may have some backup.”He heard multiple bursts of phaser fire and sonic grenades in the background as Akers replied. “The Jaguar?”“No, they look like Bajoran, but different. Claimed to be Enforcers from the Slobadan Hegemony.""Bajoran but not our Bajoran’s?" Akers asked"Right, they say they're here to help capture the Hijackers.”

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“Put me on speaker." Butterbar did. “This is Lieutenant General Scott Akers, Starfleet Marines." Dull thud, boom, shrill scream--all in the background over his circuit. "We appreciate any gesture of help you may have made," Multiple small explosions, falling debris, more phaser bursts. "But this is a Starfleet matter, we will handle it ourselves. Thank you." Then the circuit squealed and Akers was cut off.Fawkan started to raise his hand, but a burst of phaser fire, combined with a scream, which cut him off--but coming from inside the Coventry(!) Butterbar whirled around, stepping past Fawkan to peer back into the ship just in time to see the Chief slump to the deck. Butterbar kneeled next to him, searching for a pulse, glaring at the two Slobadan who stood impassively nearby, one armed with some kind of weapon in his hand.“He’s dead!" Butterbar said, in shock, looking at the Slobadan trooper who had killed him. “You didn't have to do that, he was our prisoner!”The Slobadan shrugged. “He is a criminal, wanted on capital charges for terrorism against the state. I am authorized to administer punishment.”"He was a Federation citizen!""We do not recognize the Federation's right to interfere in this matter." The Slobadan replied.Butterbar, before he even realized it, had is own phaser out and jammed against the Bajoran’s chin. “Get off my ship. This is a Federation matter. Get off my ship! Now." He was whispering.Fawkan stepped forward to intercede. “Ensign, be reasonable.”Butterbar turned, and fired past Fawkan left ear, charring a hole in the bulkhead behind him. “I’m not asking again." Then he stepped backwards, jamming his phaser into the Slobadan warrior's chin sharply upwards.Fawkan's eyes narrowed. “Very well, Ensign, but this is not over." He made a wave over his wrist, activating a device. They materialized out of the cabin and Butterbar kneeled down and cradled the Chief’s head on his lap.“Butterbar, they still here?" Multiple concussions over the circuit.“No sir. I convinced them to leave.”“Good. Get back to Electrical.”My thought exactly, Butterbar mused, going back to the idea had earlier. Grabbing some tools from storage lockers, Butterbar hastily put together a kit with the parts he'd need. It took all of 45 seconds, but each one felt an eternity as he wondered what was happening on board the Claymore. How many Marines were dead or dying because he was too slow, too distracted by Fawkan.Butterbar didn't know, but he was determined to do everything he could. Utter chaos had erupted, and he was bound and determined to bring order as quickly as possible.

A determined Ensign behind the lines with an idea can be very dangerous indeed. Now it remained to be seen if he could pull off a practical application of his academy teachings in combat situations.

Slobadan? Eologian? Butterbar didn't care. He knew that Breen were on the Claymore, shooting at fellow Starfleet officers and crew. He had to do something. Sometimes one has to embrace the insanity in order to survive it. Butterbar was doing so now.Red and Blacky slipped a sensor through the closed door to Engineering, trying to determine how many Breen were in the compartment. TWELVE+ Red signed to her husband. He nodded, walking over to an junction box. They couldn't risk contacting Butterbar to kill the lights (nor did they know he wasn't on board at that moment), so they had to do it the hard way. Picking out the right circuit to disrupt wasn't hard, just tedious. Blacky's eyes darted nervously, looking for signs of Breen arriving unexpectedly as Red inserted the bypass modules.There! She gleefully inserted the module, and tapped Blacky to get ready. On a three-count, she activated the module, and the lights inside the Engineering space went out. As they did, they opened the doors and through in a flash-bang-stun.Rolling through the doorway, phaser rifles flashing multiple bursts, it took seconds to pick off the stunned Breen troops. Several got shots off back, but missed wildly at the rapidly moving Marines. The lights snapped back on, and Red sealed the compartment while Blacky sat down at a terminal and begin calling up routines to dump the Anti-matter containment pods. * * *The hole in the deck was still dripping bits of melted deck plate and conduits as Akers followed his Marines onto Deck 5. Blacky and Camper were nearby, waiting to ambush the Breen who would pursue them, of course. Akers was starting to get worried, they were inflicting immense damage on the ship, much more and there'd be a hole breech. He still wasn't convinced the crew were completely missing, but they had not time to find out. Right now it was a race to the bridge, with the Breen in hot pursuit."General, look at this!" Myers indicated a Breen corpse lying across a jagged hole in the wall of the compartment they'd burst into. The helmet had been smashed open, and the face, though damaged, was instantly recognizable."Cardies?" Akers asked. Myers nodded."That's not possible. The Breen Cardassian alliance has been over for four years." Cookie offered.Akers heard some noise from deck 6 below and stepped out of the room, tossing several grenades behind him as he did.The ship's intercom snapped on, and at that moment, all activity on the ship instantly ceased. "Attention, Attention. Starfleet personnel, we wish to call a truce to parlay."Akers called into the chamber they'd just vacated. "Return the crew, leave our ship, and we'll have a truce. Not before." The intercom snapped off, and a voice called from the room, a Cardassian-appearing warrior in a Breen uniform, his helmet off. "We might even be able to arrange that, if we can stop shooting at each other. Would you join me in calling a truce…?" He held a phaser, but it was pointed neutrally at the deck.

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"Lieutenant General Scott Akers, Starfleet Marines."The Cardie smiled. "My rank corresponds to that of a Fleet Captain, you may call me Toomer." He gestured at the carnage around him. "This has become too expensive for us Lieutenant General, we do not wish any further hostilities.""Return the crew, leave the ship. Nothing else is negotiable until then."Toomer nodded. "I will arrange for this, but I would ask one consideration.""What is that?"At that moment, everything changed, and chaos returned. Fawkan materialized between the two men, as he did so Toomer dropped and aimed at Fawkan. Akers slid back, phaser rifle rising to Toomer as Fawkan shoots the Cardassian-appearing warrior. Akers shoot at Fawkan but missed(!) as Fawkan dived into the hole in the deck, firing as he did. More Bajoran’s appeared and followed suit."What just happened?" Myers asked Akers, incredulous as a new battle erupted below them.

"I'm not sure." Akers replied. Seeing that pursuit was, for the moment, otherwise occupied, he gestured for Myers to follow him. "Let them fight it out, let's get to the bridge."Chapter 4: Chaos, Refined

Act IV:Butterbar arrived in Electrical and dumped his kit open on one of the consoles. It would be tricky to engineer the rupture of the transport power circuits in the correct manner, but he could engineer most of the work from here. Working quickly, he pulled out isolinear circuits, plugged in new ones and hastily reprogrammed them for what he wanted. The key would be getting fail safe’s not to kick-in to prevent the kind of destruction he was about to engage."Butterbar, kill grid A-28-298" Cookie ordered. He slapped a security bypass module in, disabling the circuit. "Got it." Cookie didn't reply, just grunted.He was about to disable the power feed to the transporters when he spotted it. They were in some kind of diagnostic mode. Who would be running a diagnostic on the transporter banks -- all of them(!?!) During a battle no less.He pulled up the transporter status on the console and suddenly realized what it was he'd discovered.Butterbar smiled.He'd found the crew.

* * *Despite Cookie and Butterbar's efforts, the security force fields finally started slamming into place. Akers and his Marines had an easy answer for this -- simply start shooting the walls, ceiling and deck, until the force field emitters finally collapsed. However, when you're trapped in a hallway with twenty Breen/Cartesians, whose weapons are able to penetrate (partially) standard Starfleet security fields, then the choice of shooting them or the force field emitters becomes more complicated.Cookie collapsed the field, and they slid around the hallway corner, providing some much needed cover. The Breen/Cardies started blasting holes in the corner, removing that cover as Cookie and Myers started on the next Force fields."What's that?" Akers asked Cookie as he punched through the next force field, pointing to a dark stain on his arm. Cookie shook his head, and Akers looked closer. "Your bleeding.""Oh." Cookie replied, shooting at the emitters for the next force field in the hallway. "I just polished that." He said softly. It was dry humor, but it also meant that Cookies power armor was not going to be able to protect him from phaser fire much longer.There was an explosion and the Breen/Cardassian's chasing them were felled by the Bajorans which were now beaming into the ship, regardless of Forcefields, and seemingly at random locations.Akers did a quick inventory, four of his 9 Marines with him were wounded to one degree or another. Blacky had a nasty limp he acquired right when they linked back up. Frag's right arm hung limply at his side (fortunately he was left-handed). They were on Deck 4, and it wouldn't be long now. Either they'd start falling and the Claymore would stay hijacked or Akers could reach the bridge and end the conflict from there fairly quickly.It was a horse race, and Lieutenant General Akers hated horse races. * * *"Well pull my tail and suck out my brains!" Dogbreath swore, and Red looked at him sharply. Then she saw it as well -- somebody was trying to lock them out of the engineering computer system."Stop talking about dinner!" She said sharply, nervously moving over to the main entrance, and peering between the barely open door panels."Their too good, I'm getting shut down." Dogbreath said, standing up, and aiming his phaser rifle at the console. With a quick burst he blasted it into small bits of plastic and smoking debris. "I got a better idea." He said, answering her unspoken question as he walked over to the warp core, and started climbing down the ladders to the lower level.The sound of phaser blasts followed him as Red came under fire. Swearing softly, Dogbreath landed on the deck platting with a thud, then began using his armored fists to peel it back. They could lock him out of the computer system to keep from ordering

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ejection, but that wouldn't stop him from manually ejecting each of the 16 anti-matter containment bottles by hand."Better hurry, lover." She said, sliding down the stairwell after him. "It's getting thick up there."Dogbreath nodded, and pulled the activation handle. There was a muffled boom and a hissing that made the deck plates vibrate noticeably. One down. Fifteen to go.The good news is there was nothing anyone could do to stop the manual ejection system, and Red was relatively safe, as only a fool would shoot down a warp core shaft indiscriminately. However, the bad news is there was no other exit except back up to the main engineering deck, which per Red, was now swarming with Breen soldiers. * * *Butterbar ran his hand over the transporter panel, lighting up as he did so. With a buzzing hum, 22 very surprised looking members of the Claymore's crew materialized, some of them in less than balanced positions, falling over as they finished being reconstructed. They turned to stare at him, and one stepped forward in relaxed casual clothing. "I'm Commander Captain Harrington, and you are?" She asked."Ensign Caleb Stein, USS Jaguar. We intercepted a distress signal,signal; your ship has been overtaken by Breen hijackersBreen hijackers have overtaken your ship. A squad of Marines is currently engaging them on deck's 5 and 6 to retake the ship." As if on que, As if to punctuate the statement, the room shuddered and distant booming noises could be heard.Harrington nodded, walking over to the case of phaser riffles Butterbar had brought with him. She hefted one, smiling faintly. , "They started beaming in just as they we detected their ship. Before we could react, they had most of us incapacitated." She looked at the transporter chamber wistfully. "The rest of our crew?"Butterbar nodded. "Spread out across the ship's transporters." Harrington snapped her fingers and dispatched most of her people to the other transporter pads on deck 7. Butterbar saw that his usefulness was coming to an end--he wasn't ready for that "I also have an idea for incapacitating the Breen. I could use a couple of your engineering staff to pull it off.""They're yoursMake it happen,"." S she said, giving him two engineering chiefs, "give us five minutes to fetch the rest of the crew!" She added and Butterbar nodded in agreement."And Ensign?"Butterbar paused."Thank you.".While Harrington and her erstwhile crew members started emptying the remaining transporter buffers, Butterbar's face beaming bright enough to light up the room, he and

and the tech's proceeded back to the life support control room.electrical control. Butterbar quickly explained what he wanted them to do. "That's rather dangerous." ," One one of them commented, as more rolling explosions vibrated through the consoles. He flashed a quick grin at Butterbar. "I like it."The other tech nodded, "I owe those shell-faces for the Merrimac."With two sets of hands to help, setting up the overload in the EPS system was quickly accomplished. Butterbar looked at each of them, then stabbed in some commands on his PADD. It was surprisingly easy--sabotaging the ship's systems to create the desired radiation effect. Butterbar made a note to see if the Jaguar had this vulnerability and work on correcting it. With a sense of immense satisfaction, Butterbar looked at his two newfound colleagues, and then deliberately stabbed the control that would initiate the overload.At a moment when chaos was in full control of the Claymore--things got worse. Much worse. Harrington was leading her troops crew up the stairwells in force, having carrying hastily erected transporter scramblers and armed to the teeth with every phaser they could find. Akers was leading his troops in a steady battle of attrition, having reached deck 4, racingand racing for the bridge. The Eologian (masquerading as Breen) fake-Breen were in a pitched 3 way battle with Akers Marines as well as the Slobadan enforcers--and unknown to all with Inspector Fawkan's Slobadan enforcers who had decided to take matters into their own hands.Butterbar had hoped to overload the power system in such a way as to blow the Power Junction Circuit breakers without them cutting the circuits. It was theoretically possible, but to do it he and Harrington's tech's had to disable a number of critical failsafe'sfail safe's that would have prevented it. As a result, through-out the ship, conduits began to melt from the overload, and emit radiation at a particular frequency and with a strength carefully calculated.The lights went out across the ship, they came back on, surged in brightness, and went out for good. Red emergency lighting filled the faintly smoky air--filled with the smell of burnt circuits and the dust from numerous explosions.Had actual Breen been onboard, with their authentic Breen armor, it would have caused said armor to freeze up, immobilizing them Breen for as much as five minutes. As it was, the particle emissions had wholly unintended side effects, and on the only armor available. However, the Eologian were using counterfeit Breen uniforms, with counterfeit Breen subsystems.As far as the Eologian-masquerading-as-Breen were concerned, the lights went out. Flickered, came back on, surged in brightness, and then went out. All over the ship. The power surge also blew out the electronic counter measure fields suppressing communications, and many of the transporter scramblers.For Akers wounded Marines, though, the power surge brought on many of the desired effects--or variations of them at least. The exact effect depended on how badly damaged the power armor was. Cookie, who had suffered the worst damage, found hhad the worst effects. His right arm suddenly extending and retracting started spastically extending and retracting--several times per second. The (with the net result of which was him

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beating his own shoulders to a pulp with his power armored fists). His legs twitchingtwitched uncontrollably, almost shivering and his right hand kept twisting alternately clockwise and counter-clockwise."They've cooked cookie!" Major Myers exclaimed in disbelief, who was helping him reach Deck 4 at the time. "General, General! Did it work?" Butterbar's squeaky young voice came over the com badges. "Did what work?" Akers growled, as he peered around a corner to fire at one of the Fake-Breen pursuing them. Cookie was now in a full-blown, mechanically induced epileptic fit as a Myers and Flash tried to shut it down."We generated a neural suppression field for the Breen. It should have disabled their armor!" As a hail of phaser shots peppered the bulkhead behind him, Akers shook his head in disbelief."We're. Not. Fighting. Breen! Turn it off. Now!"Butterbar stared at the two tech's in horror. Then all three started pulling circuits to shut the overload down.Cookie suddenly was still, and barely conscious. As Myers helped him up, his chest plate fell off to the deck, and promptly shattered."You didn't tell me they weren't Breen." ," Butterbar whimpered.spered."You didn't need to know, now keep this channel clear, Ensign."Akers shook his head at the Major, who had a strange grin on his face as if to say you two were made for each other. "It's not a bad idea, too bad their not real Breen," Flash commented.Akers looked around him. "Gentleman, ladies, I'm tired of this crap. Let's take the bridge, and end this once and for all." Akers heart swelled as his Marines, even Cookie, gave a hearty Marine gunny Corps grunt. * * *With the last Anti-Matter containment bottle ejected, the Claymore was effectively neutered. She could fight, but not for long or very hard, and the best she'd be able to do was crawl. Red and Dogbreath had eliminated any possibility of the hijackers being successful. Now they just had to escape the dozens of troops blocking their only point of egress.Red stood up from her cover and slid over to one panel. Smiling at her husband, she smashed her fist through the metal covering, and peeled it back. "Husband, our exit awaits us."Dogbreath nodded, skidding over next to her and peered inside. Anti-Matter Containment Pod Access HATCH"Not bad." He said, patting her on the back. From there, it would be a short hike up to the access hatch behind the bridge.

* * *Phaser’s were peppering the bulkheads to their left and right. Akers and Myers were squeezed in a narrow hallway, with Breen/Eologian on one side, and Bajoran/Slobadan's on the other. Akers ducked low, and tossed some grenades down the hallway."Funny, they never seem to surrender." Akers commented."It helps if you offer them terms first before you shoot them." Myers breathed, picking off several quick shots."So that's it!" Akers exclaimed, and dived across the hallway to new cover. "I'll have to remember that next time."Akers rolled along the hallway, firing as he did, and ducked into an entryway, but the automatic doors were not working since Butterbar had fried the electrical system. He pried them open then slid back out of sight. Giving cover, the Major joined him. They were two decks below the bridge, his forces scattered across two decks below, but Akers could smell his objective now.A small skittering noise caught their attention, Akers and Myers slid back into recesses. Soft footfalls approached them, and Akers leaped out, phaser rifle extended, nearly slammed right into the gut of……Captain Helen Harrington, disheveled, one pants leg burned from a near miss. A half dozen other Starfleet officers and crew were stealthily joining her."Helen! Where have you been hiding?." Akers said softly, grinning foolishly.“Transporter Pattern Buffer,” she said, sniffing in disdain. "Some energetic young Ensign let me and the rest of the crew out. I presume that you’re responsible, General, for the massive destruction below?"Akers grinned even more foolishly, flashing his teeth. "I'm afraid so, Captain." He bowed slightly and gestured towards the bridge. "Shall we finish retaking your ship?" Akers was the consummate gentleman—in Marine Power armor."My pleasure, General."

* * *Butterbar couldn't have sustained the reaction much longer if he tried. Feeling very much like the green Ensign, he shut down the overload while the two techs smiled weakly at him."It was a good try kid," one of them said. Then as if forgotten, they stood up, picked up their phasers and left him behind.Butterbar started swearing again.It was a noticeable improvement over the previous effort. Inspiration, was after all, the mother of invention.If anything, the fighting seemed to have increased, with Harrington's crew entering the mix. Butterbar slowed down and glanced at the ship's displays. The Claymore was

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limping, and if help didn't show up soon, life support might start to become a real issue. The batteries were fading fast, and the ships systems were struggling to stay operational.Activating his power armor, Butterbar slid on his helm, activated his phaser rifle and proceeded to rejoin General Akers. He could pick up battle language over his com system, and knew the goal was to retake the bridge. Life support was near a stairwell that went almost all the way. Lacking any better idea he decided to see if he could get there on his own.Butterbar wasn't entirely sure how he'd been convinced to leave electrical, except that the two techs with him were not willing to sit still while their crew-mates fought to retake the ship. Having failed to neutralize the Breen who weren't Breen, he found himself racing up the stairwells, phaser rifle in one hand, bandoleer of stun and concussion grenades in another. Several times the path was blocked by debris, and they he criss-crossed the ship, stepping over wounded and dying stunned Fake-BreenBreen/Cardassian's, Starfleet crew looking practically naked in their uniforms (without any armor), and even a few of Fawkan's Enforcers. Butterbar frowned sharply. Bajoran/Slob's, Starfleet crew looking practically naked in their uniform without any armor, and so far, two Marines. He also found several of Fawkan’s troops. RReaching down, he plucked one of the gold medallions off their chest—he wanted to examine it later.Butterbar was surprised he didn't get sick from the carnagethought he was going to be sick. Only fear kept him going--fear that he'd screwed up badly, fear that he wouldn't be able to fix it. He would have to try, even if it meant throwing himself into combat--embracing the insanity that had in some way been the temptation Akers offered him since his first day on board the Jaguar.—an act he considered to be insane.

* * *Deck three--two more to go. They had the Fake-Breen pinned now, but they had also come across Butterbar's new player--the Slobadan. The human waves had finally ebbed, as the Fake-Breen struggled to hold onto one corner of the ship--the bridge. Akers and his Marines had swept all decks below deck two and they had the Fake-Breen pinned now. They also had been discovering bodies of Butterbar's new player--the Slobadan, but so far actual contact with the mysterious third party had been avoided. Akers doubted that would last, and how it would play was anybody's guess. More than a few of the black armored bodies were scattered in the smashed ruins of the Claymore. Decks sagging, hallways broken and shattered, Akers was surprised the ship hadn't lost pressure yet. There was a rustle of feet, and Akers and Myers took cover, only to drop their weapons as Captain Harrington and her crew rushed around the corner and slid into them. Akers reached down to pull her up"Scott, we meet in the strangest places," she said, smiling broadly."That we do, Helen," Akers peered around to see about 35 of the Claymore's crew waiting patiently behind her. "I was thinking about going up to the bridge? Care to join me?"She held out one arm which he graciously took in his, "Delighted, General. Positively delighted."

Akers com system squeaked, and a much hoped for signal came through. Anticipating victory, he and his old friend proudly marched upwards to finish reclaiming her battered ship.

* * *The going was slow, Butterbar had to retrace his steps more than once, and found that the best path usually mean crawling through holes blown in the deck plating to reach the next deck upwards. He stumbled into the hanger bay by accident--finding a demolished craft of alien origin, resting precariously in the force field sealing the hanger bay from the vacuum of space. He estimated somebody had tried to escape and failed, from the peeled back plating; the craft was clearly a wreck and unsalvageable. The pace of battle picked up, and Butterbar found himself stumbling from the vibrations. Inertial dampers were sputtering, and at times he found himself floating off the deck momentarily.Then silence--which itself was far worse than the signs of battle.Butterbar reached deck two, and spotted the stairwell leading to the conference room on the bridge deck. At the foot of the stairwell he found several bodies, Fake-Breen, Claymore crew mixed together. And at the foot of the stairwell, Captain Helen Harrington.Butterbar thought he would retch, but instead a cold anger overtook him. Picking up a second phaser rifle, one in each hand, he stealth-fully slipped up the stair well, a frightening grimace on his face.As he reached the top he paused, overhearing two voices, both familiar.

"...criminals wanted by the Slobadan Hegemony on capital crimes. General, you have no jurisdiction in this matter.""No, Inspector, this is a Federation matter, the Federation will handle it. You may apply for extradition after formal recognition has been completed. Until then, get off my ship!""So your Ensign told me," Fawkan replied, taking on a triumphant note. Butterbar heard a faint hiss of static, and raced around the corner, both phasers primed......and nearly shot Akers in the back. Fawkan stood on the other side of a shimmering force field, a mobile emitter lying on the floor blocking Akers from reaching him. "Excuse me, General" Butterbar said, and proceeded to fire both weapons at the field. It absorbed the energy with no effect. Butterbar glared at the Slobadan Enforcer, tilted his head to one side, and faced the wall to his right."Fire in the hole!" He barked and Akers had time to give him one glance before ducking for cover as Butterbar blew open the side of the wall, and opening a man-sized hole into the bridge.Fawkan met them on the bridge, as Butterbar saw easily a dozen Slobadan Enforcers and Marines/Claymore crew aiming phasers at each other. Scattered on the floor were nearly as many Fake-Breen, most stunned or groggy.

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"Come General, this is a stand-off," Fawkan pleaded. "Logically you have nothing to gain by fighting us, and we outnumber you significantly." Akers looked unimpressed.Four of his Marines arrived bringing another dozen of the Claymore's crew with them, joining Myers, Akers, and Harrington, bringing another dozen or so of the Claymore's crew with them. None of them, Marines and Starfleet, were unscathed, but all wore determined if grim faces They were looking at him but he waved them off for a moment, putting one hand up to his ear piece. When the message was completed, he looked at Myers, indicating the Major could continue."Suggestions, General?" Harrington asked, as Myers planted a charge on the hatch leading to the bridge."Those who dare--win!" Akers replied, to the tune of several replying grunts. "Straight-forward is the best approach." Akers said, "On three, people…"With a flash, the hatch peeled inwards. Akers and Myers ripped the pieces away each with one hand, firing into the bridge with the phaser rifles in the other. Both rolled through the opening, landing on the deck, quickly picking off the half dozen Breen/Eologian sitting or standing inside. Several more picked off the crew following Akers before he and Myers could drop them. Finally, the phaser fire ceased, and the room was filled only with the muted beeping of various alarms."Captain Harrington, the bridge is…" Akers stopped, and then leaped over to where the dignified woman lay crumpled on the floor. He ripped one gauntlet off his massive fist, and felt for a pulse."She caught three full in the chest." One of her crew said, biting his lip. Akers looked closer, and saw the blackened, charred hole--there was nothing anyone could do. Akers carefully set her down and brushed her eyes closed, his jaw clenched and cheeks twitching in rage.A quick hissing, and Akers heard a familiar voice behind him. "Congratulations General, my compliments on retaking the bridge. You still have more than fifty Eologian on board though, we can help you with subduing them." Fawkan's smile was somehow condescending.Akers turned around, rage barely contained. "Major, secure the bridge. You!" He gestured at Fawkan, "In there." He pointed to the ready room.The Slobadan walked first, but stopped when the doors didn't open. Akers reached past him and yanked the panels apart. "After you," He said. After they both stepped inside, Akers pulled the doors shut. By this point they were hanging on their grooves more out of stubbornness than any remaining tensile strength."First, who are you? Second, I require an explanation for your actions. Now." ""As I explained to your Ensign, I am Special Inspector Fawkan of the Slobadan Hegemony, in pursuit of rebel insurgents who appear to have made a career of hijacking Starfleet vessels. I am duly empowered by my government to pursue these rebel insurgents them and eliminate the threat they pose by any means necessaryto any and all limits.""Including murder!" Butterbar said, appearing in the doorway on the other side of the room, panting from having run up several flights of the stairs. "They killed the chief, General. He was unarmed, and helpless, and they killed him!"

Akers rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then smiled--it was a deadly grin. Akers looked at Fawkan, "Is this true?"Fawkan was unrepentant. "As I said, General, to any and all limits.""Fawkan, you are in Federation space, you have no authority here. Second, you do not murder citizens of the Federation. I require an explanation for that."Fawkan smiled and stepped back. "I can see your going to be unreasonable about this General." He dropped something to the floor, and a force field sprang in place, isolating Akers and Butterbar from the entrance back to the bridge. "We will leave you and your crew here while we wrap this up." HE paused for a moment, rubbing his chin. "We may also require the Claymore and your ship as evidence in our judiciary proceedings. We'll release you and your crew to the Federation unharmed. Eventually."Akers blinked at the phaser going off next to him as Butterbar tried his best to shoot Fawkan, but the blast was absorbed harmlessly by the force field. Fawkan smiled and pulled the doors open. From their limited vantage point, Akers could see that several other Slobadan had arrived, and were holding his troops under cover of weapons."Nuts!" Butterbar said, and turned to the wall of the ready room, and started firing, repeatedly. Akers, shrugging as he did so, joined in. The wall blew into the bridge, and the shock of the detonation gave the Marines and officers the opportunity they needed to overcome their would be captors. Akers stepped through the hole in the wall, the force field behind them flickering as bits of shrapnel impacted with it. Fawkan lay sprawled on the ground, stunned. As Akers picked Fawkan up by the scruff of the neck, he looked at the Ensign. "Not bad, Butterbar. Not bad at all." He turned back to Fawkan. "As I said, I require an explanation. Now."Fawkan shook his head, blood running down both sides of his face. "We cannot allow this." He breathed. "Check your scanners, we have 5 vessels to your one, and this ship is in no condition to fight.""Ensign…" Akers ordered, and Butterbar sat down at tactical, brushing off some smoldering debris from the chair first. "Its spotty, General, I've got three vessels, and one more probable." The view screen flickered back to life, and two exotic looking vessels materialized, hanging back in the gas clouds."Surrender, General.""No…" Akers replied, and Butterbar flinched, the tone of voice the General used was deadly. "Computer, Destruct Sequence 4432-Akers Tango Bravo." Akers said softly and sat down in the Captain's chair. "You are welcome to leave, Inspector, and dropped Fawkan."Your welcome to leave, however in fifty five seconds this ship will be an expanding plasma cloud."Butterbar looked at Fawkan, his phaser rifle aimed menacingly. "The blast radius will be magnified by the presence of dilithium hydroxals in the nebulae. Your ships will be heavily damaged," Butterbar added helpfully.." "This is not logical, General." Fawkan pleaded.

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"Neither is commandeering this ship!" Akers snapped.Fawkan tilted his bloodied head to one side, and nodded. "Very well." With a wave, he and all of his Slobadan troops vanished as they materialized off the bridgein a sparkle of energy. Butterbar slumped. "Can we deactivate that now?" He asked as the countdown crossed 30.Akers shook his head, walked over to the console, activating the remaining scanners. The bridge view screen displayed the wedge shaped craft, each significantly larger than the Claymore, hovering menacingly nearby.. "They haven't left yet." He said, even though the three Slobadan vessels were turning away from them. Then the impulse engines firedthey hit two thirds impulse, leaving the Claymore behind. Red and Dogbreath tumbled into the bridge, having finally arrived from their journey outside the hull. They looked around, raising one eyebrow (each), but said nothing as the countdown progressed. Akers nodded acknowledgement of their arrival and said nothing.Butterbar tensed up as the countdown continued. "5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0… Destruct sequence completed."Butterbar's jaw must have dropped all the way to the floor, from the laughter that roared from Akers. "Ensign, you should know there is no Destruct Sequence 4432.""There isn't?""No." Major Myers answered. "Except as a bluff.""Now we'll have to change it to something else." Akers sighed,sighed; the paperwork to get it changed fleet-wide was always tedious at best."A bluff?" Butterbar stammered."A bluff." Myers answered."But their they're still out there, when they realize it was a bluff…" Butterbar replied. At almost that instant, their com badges beeped."Jaguar to Akers, come in please." Butterbar leaped out of his seat and fell back onto his butt."Chris! Your late," Akers said, and VADM WallaceAdmiral Chris Wallace's 's image appeared on the view screen."You knew?" Butterbar asked Myers, who didn't seem any more surprised than Akers to see Wallace than Akers was. by the arrival of the Jaguar."That's why he's a General, and you’re an Ensign, Ensign." Myers whispered amicably.

Chapter 45: AftermathLater…The Jaguar detected the rapid departure of the Slobadan craft, which changed course persuing what appeared to be a surving Eologian vessel. Early indications were that the Fake-Breen, also known as Eologian, had been hijacked Starfleet vessels before, although this was difficult to explain. Since the war, hardly any had been lost under anything less than well known circumstances. The answer became clear, as aWith the arrival of the Jaguar, the rest of the fighting on the Claymore came to a quick resolution.

During the fighting, the Slob's had totally scragged one of the Eologian craft, but any of the imitation Breen still alive had apparently beamed aboard the remaining ship and high-tailed it. The Jaguar picked up several Slobadan ships in hot pursuit, and that was the last they saw of them (for the time being). Among the dead Eologian were several more Starfleet crew and officers presumed "lost" during the Dominion war. Casual genetic analysis identified enough drift in both the Slobadan and Eologian casualties to conclusive confirm that neither came from either modern Cardassia or Bajor. If they were related, it was from a branch that had diverged several centuries at least a thousand years earlier. They also found other racial types in both Eologian and Slobadan uniforms, compounding the mystery further.Casualties among the Claymore's crew were high, given their lack of armor. Even with Starfleet Power Armor, half of Akers squad was laid up in sickbay when he came to visit later that afternoon. Most were unconscious from their sedatives, but Cookie was still awake. Akers sat down next to him, and tried not to wince at the immense bruises covering much of the Sergeants exposed flesh."How are you doing Cookie?" He asked softly."Where... Isis… The the Ensign?" Cookie asked, gasping hoarsely."Back on the Coventry, cleaning up, why?""He's mine… now. I own him." Akers smiled. "He helped saved the lives of the Claymore's crewour lives, Cookie."Cookie smiled. "I won't hurt him." ," Cookie gasped. , "Permanentlypermanently." "How about 45 minutes, 4 times a week?" Cookie's eyebrows went up--all one of them. "The Ensign hasn't been assigned a physical fitness regime since he arrived, I figure you, Sergeant, would be the ideal choice to administer one."Cookie smiled, it was a grin. A very, very, evil grin."Ensign Flambé…" He breathed, closed his eyes and finally fell back to sleep.Akers smiled and said to himself. "Ensign, the other white meat." Chuckling to himself he left the sick bay.

* * *With the Claymore safely under way (albeit shaky), the Jaguar was on course to return the damaged ship back to Starbase 375 and a much-needed overhaul. Butterbar found himself invited to sit with the C.O., Akers, and Major Myers, as the senior officers commenced what he learned was a ritualistic debriefing in the Officer's Mess. It involved the consumption of alcohol, charred animal flesh (with authentic Texas Barbecue, he was informed) and other food supplements his wife would have designated as "junk food."Butterbar tried one bit of the special sauce referred to only as "The Man" and then swore off charred animal flesh for the rest of the evening, (Much much to the amusement of the Marines and senior officers). He listened to the banter going back and forth, as various members of Akers squad filtered in and out, and even Cookie winked at him as he dipped his Cajun Ribs heavily in "The Man.""So, General," Butterbar asked, working up his nerve, "what exactly is a Butterbar?"

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Akers laughed, and several of the Marines tittered. "You Ensign, you’re a Butterbar." With Butterbar's confused look, he continued. " In wet Navy Naval tradition, the rank insignia of an Ensign was a single gold bar, which resembled a bar of butter."Butterbar looked at his waist self-consciously, he was trim by Starfleet standards. Cookie walked up and patted his tummy. "Don't worry, we'll be taking care of that soon enough." Laughing, he slung his arm around Butterbar's shoulders and gave him a one handed bear hug. "Next time you try any of your particle-of-the-week physics, give me some advance notice, Butterbar." Cookie demanded."Why is that?" Butterbar asked nervously. There was a gleam in Cookie's eyes that resembled the Generals in one of his feral modes."So I can high tail it away from you at Warp 9." He ruffled Butterbar's hair and called to the Major and General. "This kid's dangerous!""To his own side!" Akers roared, laughing and Cookie again ruffled his hair affectionately. Realizing he was going to take some more ribbing over this, for quite a few more months to come, Butterbar sat down with his meal. After a time, he shifted, realizing he was sitting uncomfortably on the emblem he'd taken off the Eologian enforceron a souvenir he'd taken off the bridge of the Claymore, after the ship had been secured. It was a medallion off the chest of a Slobadan solider.. His study of the polished medal must have been noticeable because he looked up and found Akers and WallaceChris starring at him."Let's see that, son." Akers said softly and Butterbar handed it over. "I like dragons," Akers said and Butterbar listened carefully as the General examined the medallion. Was that a purr or a growl he heard from the General?Butterbar offered commentary. , "The the central figure looks like a Vulcan IDIC, but it's wrong, and the Dragon, definitely not part of Vulcan mythology.""Where did you get this, Ensign? " WallaceChris asked as he took it from Akers and examined it before handing it on to Myers for a look."One of the Slobadan," Butterbar answered, trying not to think about the splash of tissue and bone that had… no, it was too much to remember."Your wife have anything to say about it?" Myers asked.Butterbar shook his head. , "Haven't haven't shown it to her, not yet."Myers nodded, "Have her take a look, but I doubt if it's anything related to a IDIC." In the Dragon's claws were several humanoid forms, and none of them looked to be in a healthy condition. He nodded to Wallace. "When we got Butterbar here, we were lucky to get his wife with him. She's doing some good work on warp shell design."Butterbar digested that last statement for a moment—it didn't fit with his world-view. "Starfleet tries to place married couples together, doesn't it?" He asked.WallaceChris nodded. , "Usuallyusually, although its not a guarantee. Fortunately we had some empty billets in Engineering so we could make an offer to the two of you."Butterbar's look of confusion must have spoken volumes as WallaceChris shrugged and nudged his XO. "Ask him, he's the one who fought for you."Akers grumbled and growled but didn't say anything, so it was no wonder that Butterbar's surprise kept him talking. , "But but I thought it was S'lek you wanted."

Myers shook his head. "No, kid, she was just the bonus. Akers wanted you, you two were a pair, so we got ourselves a whiz-bang engineer, but you were the one he wanted down in Astrometrics."Akers was still grumbling, a soft growl that was more amusing than threatening. Butterbar raised his eyebrows. "General…?""Thought you showed potential, Butterbar."Butterbar's jaw hit the floor."Who knows? You might even make a good Marine some day."WallaceChris smiled. , "Speaking speaking of S'lek, hadn't you be heading back to quarters about now?"Not wanting to give up the camaraderie he'd finally found, Butterbar waffled, it being his turn to squirm and mutter under his breath. Akers put a furry hand on his shoulder. "Go see your wife, kid. Too many evenings drinking with our buddies is why we DON'T have wives any more—"Admiral Wallace snorted."The CO being the exception, of course," Akers hastily added. "Now shooNow shoo!" As Butterbar left, he heard the half-Caitian muttering something about green Ensigns to WallaceChris and Myers in amusement. And for the first time since coming on board the Jaguar, he felt at home.he didn't feel insecure about it.Whistling as he left, Butterbar returned to his quarters and to his wife.

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Interlude

Former Professor Hiram Thornberry stood next to the captain's chair on board the Akira class USS Otomo, reported lost for more than five years now since the height of the Dominion war. Former Starfleet Fleet Captain Sylia Stingray did not meet his gaze, her disapproval clear."You knew this Ensign, Professor?""He and his wife were students of mine," Thornberry said softly, watching the Jaguar tow the Claymore free of the nebulae. The Otomo had suffered greatly in the last few years, she was falling apart almost as much as the Claymore, in some cases worse."It is of no matter," Stingray replied. "Our concern now is how do we acquire reinforcements and spare parts.""We have the trade mission to Nexus..." Thornberry offered hopefully and Stingray snorted in disdain. "Professor, we have six months at most, if that. Your stolen Cardassian freighter can't purchase enough to be more than a drop in the bucket the next time they attack." She stood up, "I'm going to my quarters," she announced."To do what?" Thornberry asked.She finally met his gaze, "To decide if I should turn myself in for high treason, Professor. You would do well to consider the alternative, it may be the only thing that can save us."

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Part 2: The Dictates of Logic

Chapter 6: Signs & PortentsChapter 7: The Slobadan PuzzleChapter 8: Maximum ResponseChapter 9: The Other Side of the CoinChapter 10: To Prevent a Greater Catastrophe

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Interlude

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Part 3: By a Necessity of Nature

Chapter 11: EscalationsChapter 12: Jockeying for Position

Chapter 13: Move, Counter MoveChapter 14: Pre-Conceived NotionsChapter 15: Close CombatChapter 16: The Burning of New WacoChpater 17: The Rapidly Downward Spiraling Charlie-FoxtrotChapter 18: Severe EscalationsChapter 19: Ye Olde Fashioned Snatch and GrabeChapter 20: Reconcilation and ReadinessChapter 21: Operation [Censored]Chapter 22: As If By Fluke, The Birth of a Weimar RepublicChapter 23: Aftermath Redux