NOVEMBER 2003

Author: Ens. Kell Demar
Title: The Omega Directive #66
On:

--USS.Edison--
--Bridge--
--In Orbit of 6th moon--

Captain John Warner sat in his command chair next to his XO, S’Lek, watching the Trakin moon on the viewscreen. He wondered as to the status of the fighters and shuttle craft, in all the excitement he had forgotten about them. He tapped the comm button on the air of his chair.

“Warner to Furry, report.”

Silence

He tried again “Warner to Furry, report.”

Again, silence.

“Computer, Locate Lt.Furry”

“Lt.Furry is not onboard the USS.Edison”

Warner jumped up from his command chair.

“Computer locate any fighter or shuttle personal that were deployed during the battle”

“None of those personal are onboard the Edison”

“No shuttles or fighters are onboard the Edison” Spoke up Commander Schaeffer.

“Get me Captain Kim in my ready room now.” Warner said as he walked to his ready room

--10 Minutes Later--

Warner came out of his ready room with a angry look on his face. Commander S’Lek stood up.

“Should we set a course sir?”

“Negative, we are to proceed as planned, we will pick them up on the way back if they are still there.”

The entire bridge crew stared at the captain, stunned. Dara stood up from her chair, tears running down her face.

“We cant leave them sir.”

“Yes we can.” Warner sat down in his chair. “If we do not, the Monitor has threatened to ‘stop us at all costs.’ Which we all know what that means. Now is the away team ready to beam down?”

--Temp. SciOps/Life Sciences Lab--
--Same Time as Above--

Kell sat in his chair, Waiting to see what was going to happen. Lt.Bawcombe burst in through the doors.

“Ensign, my office.” Bawcombe said as he half jogged into his office.

Kell walked in and sat down.

“Ensign” Bawcombe began “This is all highly classified and can not be told to anyone unless deemed necessary. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir”

Bawcombe handed Kell a padd. “This is what is going on, you will be going with the away team, as am I. That padd will detail what Omega is about, how we may stop it, and how to detect it. You are due in transporter room 3 in five minutes. All Starfleet directives, including the prime directive, are void, this must be destroyed all any cost. Do you under stand Ensign?” Bawcombe asked with a dead serious expression on his face.

Kell snapped to attention. “Aye aye sir!”

Bawcombe walked out and left Kell to look over the padd. Kell skimmed over the padd. What he was reading was impossible, no power source could be this perfect, this was Borg perfect. It was also the perfect super weapon, a few of these and you could destroy an empire, or at the very lest set them back a few centuries. He realized that he was due in the transporter room. He walked out into the lab and handed control of the science dept. to Lt.Vasilyeva. He headed to the closest turbolift.

--Transporter room--

Kell walked into the transporter room to find various staff peoples, all dressed in iso suits, well modified suits. Kell slipped into one,put on a type 2 phaser,grabbed a tricorder and waited.

-------------------------
Ensign Kell Demar
Asst. Chief Science Officer &
"Acting" Chief Of Stellar Sciences
USS.Edison NCC-75159

OCTOBER 2003

Author: LTJG Jon Wilber
Title: Your Only Allies Are Enemies #153
ON:

=Vanguard Station=
=Conference Room=

Seated around a large oak table were almost a dozen officers, with varying uniforms, ranging from Commander Sarbaugh to a Rear Admiral Harrison, one of the few surviving members of Starfleet Command. Two seats remained unattended -- those left for Captains Van Kinsbergen and Naala.

"Shall we wait for them?" Harrison asked, hesitant.

The brooding Captain Sisko shook his head. "There's no need to. They've done their part for us." He looked around the table to the various faces. "Let's begin."

Commander Sarbaugh rose. "Dammnit!" he cried, his boiling frustration beginning to escape. "There's no need for him! Computer, deactivate Sisko ECH." As the Captain dissapeared, the computer confirmed Sarbaugh's angered command with a simple response.

"Emergency Command Hologram deactivated."

"Jeez... if I had to sit through one more meeting with that mess of force fields, I swear...." He paused, and took a look around. "My apologies, Admiral. I'm not usually like that. There's been so much stress lately; the demise of the Edison, and the arrival of these people..."

"None needed. I had been wanting to deactivate him for quite some time myself. But he was necessary for our newcomers. Besides," he chortled, "did you see the look on Warner's face?!? He completely folded!"

"I was surprised myself," commented Captain Naala, entering the room with Captain Van Kinsbergen. They looked around. "Commander," she addressed, adding, "Captains, Admiral." She quickly sat at her seat, and nodded somberly. "They have so much more to offer than they're letting on."

"Absolutely," Van Kinsbergen added, nodding. "They have reserves nearly twice that of the start of the War. They have a lot of talent on that ship. Familiar names, famous names. Warner is on that ship, S'Lek, O'Keefe, Furry, myself... there hasn't been enough change in their universe to lose the numbers we have."

"Very well," noted Harrison, beginning to lose interest in the Captain's words. "So, when do we let the crew know?"

Sarbaugh looked blankly at the Rear Admiral. "Are you serious? We have the entire ship under our control, and then we're going to tell Warner and the rest of the command staff that it was all practice and training? I don't think so." He settled into his chair.

Harrison stood up, and looked at the group. "As difficult as times may seem now, there is still no reason to be holding any member of the Federation, or the Resistance, or whatever in the hell we _do_ call it nowadays, in fear of a fellow officer. These beings are professionals, too; a single officer on that ship may have more morals than the entirety of this room. We can't have those kinds of people in fear of our disruptors." He sighed. "But... enough with the Edison; they're docked. We can inform them later." Returing to his seat, Harrison looked around the room. "Anything more to report?"

Naala cleared her throat. "Those modifications to our communications relays... we haven't seen any results yet. We'll keep working at it, see if we can find another Resistance station."

Harrison nodded. "What about listening into Dominion channels?"

The color from Naala's face began to drain slightly. "We've been getting chatter lately regarding a codename 'Omega.' As of right now, there's no telling what this could mean. But we've kept tight to the channels, and we're getting anything that comes up on our sensors."

"Okay. Anything else?" Admiral Harrison sharply looked at each officer. "Fine. Dismissed." Slowly, the others began to rise and filter out of the room. As the last officer left the conference room, Harrison slumped over in his chair. "'Omega,'" he whispered to himself. "We swore, up and down, that this would never happen; they'd never find out." He slammed his fist sharply against the table.

Startling himself, he jutted his face up, and started at a corner of the room's ceiling. "Computer," he called, longingly, "one vodka, straight. And activate the Sisko ECH." The hologram and distilled beverage appeared within microseconds of the other. Harrison stood up, and grabbed his vodka glass roughly, spilling the crystal liquid onto the table. "Oh, Ben..." he called aimlessly, hoping the hologram would answer him for once. "Why has it become so difficult? Our homes, lost; our information, stolen; our families and friends, killed. Why do they need to continue? What logic stems from their necessity to kill all human life?"

Sisko, staring blankly at the doorway, kept his inhuman silence.

"We must find our invisible allies, the sooner the better. I am sure we can get back some of our lost glory." Draining the vodka, he sighed. "Ben, it can be like the good old days... the darkest days are behind us. We have a new Edison, and a new hope." Harrison looked at the glass again. "That's strange, Ben. I didn't know I could do that. No matter; what is important is that we think on this. We can't let this get too out of hand, Ben. You remember what happened the first time we tried to rise up against the Dominion-- devastation. Ben, hat's how you were killed.... That's how I was killed."

He had once again found his favorite spot on the ceiling. "Computer, deactivate all ECHs." The two men in the room dissapeared, and the lights dimmed to darkness.

OFF:

Lt (jg) Jon Wilber
Chief CONN Officer
USS Edison

SEPTEMBER 2003

Author: LTJG Dara WindDancer Montgomery
Title: Your Only Allies Are Enemies #60
ON:

When the whole ugly fight had begun, Dara Montgomery had immediately left her quarters to report to Sickbay. Technically, she as Counselor might have reported to the Bridge, but she had never felt as though she were one to advise the Captain. If he needed her assistance, he would call her to him. So when the alert had started she prepared to go to Sickbay in case she was needed to calm a patient or aid in medical tasks. The Captain may not always need her advice, but the injured could always use an extra pair of skilled hands.

The crush coming from deck 8 wasn't as bad as it might have been at a shift change. Most of the officers had already manned their stations, leaving at the first hint of trouble. Dara however had been feeling under the weather, taking her time getting dressed and leaving her quarters. She just couldn't seem to shake the bizarre sense of impending doom she'd had since speaking with DarkSky. Not long ago, her tattoo had begun to sting and burn, and she wondered what the Dolphin Spirit could be trying to tell her. She was lost in a certain reverie as she entered the lift, hardly noticing the medical ensign and security crewman who were already in the lift.

"12, Main Sickbay," she murmured softly, trying to figure out what the premonitions were all about.

"Please restate request."

"12, Sickbay," answered one of the men behind her, saving her the trouble.

"Thank you," she murmured, still utterly absorbed in her own thoughts.

The lift descended smoothly to deck 10, releasing the security crewman, leaving Dara and the medical ensign to descend to 12 alone. Suddenly, the lift seemed to sway slightly, as though the world was losing cohesion. Dara was knocked to the floor, too caught in thoughts to keep her balance. She snapped to full awareness instantly, taking the ensign's hand and accepting his help up.

"Wonder what's going on, Counselor?"

Dara nodded and tapped her comm badge. Nothing. Calmly, she tapped it again. =/\=Montgomery to Ops.=/\=

Nothing. Eloquent silence filled the turbolift, speaking volumes to the hungry ears of the occupants of the lift.

"Shouldn't we hear the lift moving?" asked the ensign.

"We _should_, but I wouldn't begin to worry just yet. Engineering and Ops are good folks. They'll have us on our way in no time." Dara smiled maternally, consciously projecting feelings of comfort and warmth to the obviously agitated man. "I'm Counselor Dara; what's your name?"

"Harvey. Harvey Reynolds." He extended his hand again, this time to be shaken rather than to give her a hand up. She took it gently and squeezed a pressure point in the off-center of his palm. Harvey took a sudden deep breath and smiled, relaxed now. "What was that?"

She copped a mysterious expression to hide her own concern. "Old Indian secret," she intoned solemnly.

He laughed, mollified for the time being, and slid down the wall of the lift to rest on the floor. He patted the floor next to him and looked querulously at Dara. She sank down next to him to await some word over the comms or the movement of the lift. Long moments passed and the ensign began to panic again, rubbing his hands together noisily and fervidly. Dara observed him for a second, then grinned at him.

"Claustrophobia?"

"Mildly, yes."

"Want to talk about it, Harvey?" Dara leaned her head back against the wall, languidly braiding her long loose hair as she watched him.

"I dunno, Dara, I just panic and the walls close in. Classic claustro case." He leaned back and looked at her, blue eyes crowded with pain and scarcely constrained terror.

Her heart went out to him. "Would you like to sing a song to get your mind off of it?"

He chuckled mirthlessly, obviously caught off-guard. "Sure. Which song?"

"You are a Terran aren't you?"

Harvey nodded. "Could you tell?"

Dara smiled and launched into a verse of The Beatles' "Hey Jude". Harvey just stared at her a moment as though she'd lost her mind, but joined in when she reached the second verse. By the time they'd sung the last na-na, they realized something was really wrong. Comms were still not functioning and the lift was as frozen in place as ever. Harvey had begun to panic again, and it was all Dara could do to keep him moderately calm. She wondered if they had been missed, and tried to reassure herself that they surely had. Two people both missing from medical, someone had to have noticed...

Harvey decided to try and push through the top of the lift and take a look-see. Dara sat against the wall of the lift away from the door and from the panel Harvey was trying to open. She continued to have a bad feeling, her heart pounding hard enough to bruise. Harvey finally wrenched the panel free and propelled himself through to the waist, getting a look around.

"I think the power is failing in the lift tube, Dara... I don't know exactly. I mean, I'm no engineer, but it seems to me that we have auxiliary power lighting the lift, and main power is off out here. I'm getting cold, so I'm coming back in." He started to shift, his body wriggling as he prepared to drop.

Suddenly the lift lurched and the power surged, blacking out the lift. Dara forced herself to stay calm, though she wanted to scream. "Harvey? Did you trip a switch?"

No answer. "Harvey?" A little more of her near-overwhelming anxiety crept into her voice. "Harvey? Are you ok?"

She blinked hard against the velvety darkness, barely able to make out the silhouette of Harvey's lower body still hanging from the open panel. She reached a tentative hand to tug gently on his pant leg. "Har-veeey?" She tugged more insistently, her mind near paralyzed with her worry and fear. All at once his body dropped, crushing her under its weight. A thrill of revulsion shot through her and she knew instinctively that he was dead. She steeled herself to press her fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse and found instead that his head had been sheared off halfway down the neck.

A tsunami of fear washed over her, catching her off guard and dragging her under into its still, cold blackness.

[later]

A familiar voice echoed in the fog around her, leading her toward a safe place. She clung to the hand that grasped hers, fighting against an almost insurmountable wave of nausea and residual panic. She heard words coming to her from that voice. It was slowly becoming less a sound and more a communication.

"Dara? Dara, are you ok?"

Dara tried to identify the voice, knew it was someone she cared about, but she couldn't place it... It wasn't her Adadoda, or her grandparents; they would be speaking to her in the language of People.

"Can you look at me, Dara?" It was a man's voice, racked with worry and concern.

She felt the side of her face warmed by the presence of a huge hand, and she turned her cold nose and lips into its palm to warm them. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the bright artificial lights shining into her face. A moment later, Ambler's face swam into view, and she tried to smile. She saw his worried expression transform into a broad grin of relief.

"I was afraid you were a goner there," he muttered, leaning forward and enveloping her in a tight hug.

As a sudden impulse took hold of her, she pulled Furry's head away from her shoulder and held it where she could look into his eyes. "You saved me."

He smiled slightly and said, "Well, I wasn't going to leave you here to rot." He jerked his head back to gesture to a couple of yellow shirts standing outside the lift doors. The lift was between floors, Ambler having slipped inside through an opening of about a meter. The yellow shirts were waiting, presumably to help them out of the still darkened lift. A body bag lay on the floor outside the lift, containing poor Harvey's decapitated remains, she surmised. "They helped me find you. Most of the lifts stopped working and it didn't take me too long to track you down to this one."

Dara looked around the lift, seeing the blood pooled under her, feeling for the first time its stickiness on her hands and face. She glanced at Ambler's cheeks where her palms had been. Faint traces of blood were visible, looking ironically like hastily rubbed-away lipstick marks. He followed her gaze and asked, "Is any of it-"

"Mine?" He nodded. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Well, I think we should get you to Sickbay." He stood and offered her his hand.

She grasped it, trying to pull herself to her feet, but she fell back again, the world swirling madly around her. "Sorry," she murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Don't be," Ambler replied, scooping her up in his arms and passing her out to the crewmen waiting for her. He pulled himself up behind her and they parted ways with the crewmen.

"Which deck are we on?"

"12. Sickbay is just a hop, skip, and jump ahead."

"Funny, that is just where I was headed when all hell broke loose." She walked into Sickbay calmly, though leaning on Ambler for support. "Counselor Montgomery reporting, Dr. Vespasian."

off:

LTJG Dara WindDancer Montgomery
Ship's Counselor
USS Edison

JULY 2003

Authors: Ens. Jon Wilber and Ens Dara WindDancer Montgomery
Title: "Shower of Stars" #38
ON:

=prior to #36=
=Forgo=

The surface of the ground rippled with the impact of the shuttlecraft, seeming to absorb all the energy of the shuttle, without cushioning the force of impact. Immediately, pieces of the now-defunct shuttle shot away at skewed angles, and charcoal smoke began to expel from the spaces occupied by those pieces. It was an obvious and looming sign of fire inside the cabin. From far off, any observer would instantly think the shuttle to be little more than rubble and the remains of a poor evacuation run, but inside was an entirely different story.

=Shuttle=

Dara's eyes opened, slowly, to reveal a crack running widthwise along the forward windows, a number of large boulders kept watch, to reveal themselves as the culprit the impending doom. In the back of the shuttle, a few men were struggling to regain consciousness and attempted to get on their feet again. Suddenly, a conduit erupted, sending a miner flying into the other wall of the shuttle, killing him. As he hit the floor, flames were seen to be coming from the blown relay, the flames reaching down to the floor of the shuttle.

She struggled to extricate herself from the chair, she looked over to Jon. His body was slumped forward, onto the flickering console. From her position, she could see blood drying along the console, slightly smeared from shifting of his body over the passing hours. She couldn't tell whether he was alive or not, but she sensed he was most likely unconscious. After a little more effort, she finally managed to free herself from the chair, and got up to survey the damage to the cargo hold of the shuttle.

Generally, the miners on the shuttle were on the floor, with the exception of one or two who had managed to find the safety restraints in time. They seemed to be alright, regaining consciousness shortly after Dara. However, as they realized the fates of some of their companions, they remained silent, watching Dara move about them. She struggled to turn a man facing the shuttle wall face-up, only to reveal widened eyes and no pulse. She sighed slightly, and double checked by pulling out a tricorder she brought for the trip-- just in case. Yes, he was dead, but, as she turned around, she realized Jon was not. Without a moment's hesitation, she pulled him off the console, and leaned the pilot's chair back as a makeshift bed.

Looking him over, the first thing to jump out and make itself apparent to her was the tension of his pant leg near the ankle-- any betting man would put his money on a broken leg. She reached her arm down to touch it, and as she came in contact with the bone, Jon tensed up, and his face screwed up into one of pain and agony. He briefly opened his eyes, and was face to face with Dara.

A look of compassion swept across her face, and she began to speak. She paused, however, when he struggled to raise his arm to stop her. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "Check the sensors-- find out if we've been spotted."

She turned towards the co-pilot's console, and tapped a few commands gently, almost with a fear that if she were to tap it too hard, it would break. Echoing through the silent shuttle was the sound of sensors not responding. "Must be the rubble sitting on top of us," she mentioned, motioning to the sensor panel.

Furrowing his brow, Jon stared the ceiling down as if they were competing in a chess tournament. He had a gut feeling that Captain Warner would send a rescue team, but how many people in the shuttle were still alive, and how many EVA suits did they have? During the pre-launch meeting, he made sure each shuttle was equipped with as many EVA suits as possible, but he wasn't sure if any of those suits actually made their way to the shuttles. He turned his head to Dara with a look of frustration crisscrossing his face.

"What is it, Jon? How can I help?" She turned to face the passengers, assessing their condition.

He nodded his head backwards, trying to motion towards the furthermost rear of the shuttle. "We've got to be prepared for any rescue they've got coming. Transporters won't be able to get through this, just like the sensors, but they'll probably just try to cut their way into the ship. How many people are alive in the cargo hold?" She shrugged her shoulders, but turned around to check on the passengers and EVA suits.

Dara moved gracefully through the clutter of the cockpit toward the hold. Of the men they'd lifted off with only three were still alive, and the futility of this evacuation seemed proved once over. She smiled encouragingly at the survivors as she stepped over the bodies of the dead. She found the EVA suits. In a slightly sick voice, she called to Jon, "There are four suits and three live ones."

An instant after she spoke, he realized what that meant. He turned towards the ceiling and instead of looking at and adversary, he seemed to be searching for an answer. Moments later, however, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his head settled slightly askew. Blood trickled from his leg as Dara looked on.

She moved back to where he sat, tears of sympathy and terror welling in her eyes. She forced herself to regain control, breathing deeply and murmuring a prayer. Finally she laid her small, cool hand on his cheek and murmured to her spirits to help him, then she withdrew the tricorder and scanned him, trying to do whatever she could to save him, thinking "I can't do this alone!" but only saying, "Come on, Jon, pull through."

A sudden rumble of rubble on the port side of the ship meant one of two things: either rescuers had come, or the weakened structure of the shuttle was beginning to give way. However, as Jon's commbadge chirped with static, Dara instantly realized it was the former.

Dara's heart leapt in her chest, and she fiddled with her own badge a moment, trying to boost it as they'd shown her in survival at Academy. She tapped it and attempted to communicate. "Ensign Montgomery to anyone! Can you hear me?"

Moments seemed to pass like hours as she waited for a response from the team. Then, through the static of the commbadge, she could hear, "... Tris-- cut- ... the hull-" before hearing only static again.

=Outside the Shuttle=
=moments earlier=

The team approached the shuttle slowly, monitoring the now-stable rocks hiding it from view. He looked over to Lieutenant Jayel, and back to his tricorder. Dust was still settling far off, and they had reached the last known location of the shuttle. The team raced over to the rising cloud of dust and smoke, and sure enough, a glimpse of the Federation symbol was to be seen.

Petty Officer Nick DeTovar(npc) pulled out a phaser, and as she raised it towards the rocks, Trisk grabbed his arm, preventing any catastrophe from befalling the crew trapped inside. "We must contact them first." He tapped his commbadge.

=Inside=

Dara moved to get the miners and her into an EVA suit, feeling guilty and helpless about Jon, but not knowing what else to do. She braced the miners for what was coming but strayed from Jon's side, focusing on trying to contact the rescuers, but to no avail.

With her back turned towards the miners and away from the cockpit, she did not realize Jon had regained consciousness. He struggled to move himself upright, against the pain of his leg and the concussion he had sustained. Turning himself gently around, he saw Dara and the miners with EVA suits, and heard the phasers cutting the rocks and starting to reach the hull.

A sense of impending doom washed over him with a nauseating feeling of fear and disgust. Distinctive cuts could be heard on the hull, and before an opening was made, Jon quickly hobbled over to the co-pilot's chair.

Dara turned around to take one last look at Jon. However, he wasn't there, and her quick frantic searching took her to the adjoining seat, where Jon was furiously working to save himself. He tapped controls on the console, bringing up the power reserves and the life-support systems. As a hole formed in the cargo hold of the shuttle, a force field surrounded the cockpit, encasing Jon in a protective shell.

Dara heaved a sigh of relief, horrified at the thought of what might have happened and slightly ashamed she hadn't thought to do that. The hole was widening steadily, and momentarily she knew she'd see a friendly face smiling at her.

Jon returned to the pilot's chair, though much more like a bed, and lay down, exhausted from his rush life-saving effort. He kept his eyes open just long enough to furrow his brow at the sight of Lieutenant Jayel in an EVA suit next to Lieutenant Trisk, wearing a standard Starfleet uniform.

The two officers looked at the situation at hand. All who could possibly have been saved seemed to be alright and Ensign Wilber had done correctly keeping himself in the cockpit with a force field. However, the temperature in the cockpit could not remain, and everyone realized the quickening danger as Jon fell unconscious again.

OFF:

Ensign Jon Wilber
Acting Chief CONN Officer
USS Edison
&
Ensign Dara WindDancer Montgomery
Counseling Officer
USS Edison




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