"Increase speed to Warp 2.1," Doe ordered. "Set an intercept course directly for the lead vessel. Charge phasers and load the working photon tube. Signal Beckett to form up on our right flank and match course and speed. Tell the rest of the convoy to follow at best speed. Get me Beckett's skipper on the line as soon as he's available."
        Taurus exchanged glances with Artex. Doe had been trained for some kind of captured ship mission by "commanding" Federation ships in the Imperial Fleet's combat simulators, but not even Taurus had seen him actually fight a starship before. That the human had fallen instantly into the rhythm of ship combat was every bit as startling as it was impressive, even if "Captain" Doe were just doing what the pre-arranged "battle" plan called for him to do.
        Artex watched the teams in the control room come alive with the anticipation of battle. Even knowing that this was a pre-planned engagement, he felt the tingle of adrenaline. And even though the attack was bogus, the stakes were just as high as they would be in an actual combat encounter. It was make-or-break time with the Federation police cutter and the rest of the convoy; their cover and quite possibly the fate of the whole mission was riding on the outcome. Artex wished he had more than a basic understanding of ship combat tactics; as it was all he could do was sit at his station and do his best to hide his misgivings from the rest of his team.

        Doe, of course, appeared to suffer no such difficulties. Sitting in the command chair with his chin resting thoughtfully in one hand he radiated confidence. As annoying as he was, he was certainly a consummate actor. He looked just like one of the indomitable Federation captains in the Earthers' trivideos. That was good for the mission, but the more Artex watched him, the more it ate at him. Doe was so convincing that it was easy to forget he wasn't the real thing: another swaggering human seated on his plush throne, lording over his crew of Vulcan serfs. The image made Artex instinctively want to find a blade and gut him where he sat.
        "Hostile Three is turning to starboard and accelerating," Lal reported. "It looks like she's trying to swing around our flank and make a battle pass at the freighters. The other two hostiles are on an intercept course, range 400 thousand kilometers and closing fast."
        "Just as we planned," Tarus said.
        "Maintain course and speed," Doe ordered. "Make preparations for a snap acceleration to Warp 2.6. Get a weasel ready and advise Beckett they should do the same. Use any leftover power to overload the photon."
        "Captain Simmons is hailing us," Li reported.
        "Put him on screen," Doe said. The tactical display slid to the left half of the viewscreen as a view of Beckett's bridge came into focus on the right.
        "Captain, this is a very aggressive posture you're taking for someone who seemed very intent on avoiding combat with the Romulans a few days ago," Simmons said.
        "I'm afraid we have no choice. They seem to have gotten the drop on us, good and proper," Doe drawled, ignoring the policeman's barb. "We can't outrun them and if we scatter the convoy, they'll just chase us off and run down the freighters one by one. My plan is to come in slow at first, make it seem like we're circling the wagons. That will suit them fine; they'll think they can just keep throwing plasma at us from medium range until they wear us down. We'll use a sudden acceleration to close to point-blank range with the leader, hit him hard with overloads, and force him to withdraw. With any luck, the rest of the squadron will go with him. If not, they're still going to have a hard time outshooting a whole convoy with just one destroyer and a scout."
        Simmons nodded thoughtfully. "One of the destroyers has already broken formation, that will make it easier for us to isolate the leader.Your ship is already damaged; a close engagement sounds very risky, especially if you go in first."
        "I won't have it any other way," Doe said. "We may be shot up a bit but we can still take more hits than your ship. Besides, according to all the after-action reports, the Romulans are gunning for fleet units, so this whole battle may be more about destroying Mallory than it is about the convoy. As long as we're going to be the primary target anyway, I'd rather go down swinging for the farthest fence."
        "I understand," Simmons said, looking at Doe with what appeared to be genuine respect. "I'm overloading our photon now; we'll be ready to accelerate when you give the signal. Good hunting, Captain. Beckett's got your back!"
Idiot, Artex thought, but he was relieved to see Doe sticking to the script for a change. He glanced over at Tarus and saw a similar expression.
        "Range to Hostile One is now 300 thousand kilometers and closing," Lal reported. "Hostile Three looks like he is lining up for a battle pass on the Samantha."
        "Very well," Doe said. "Steady on course. Prepare to accelerate on my mark."
        "Aye, Sir," Smith said from the helm.
        "The primary communication array is back online," Li reported. "It's showing as green for short-range communications on my board."
        "I ordered no such repairs," Artex said. "Tev?"
        "No, Sir, I have no teams working on that system," Tev said. "Li, are you sure it's not a glitch?"
        "I don't think so," Li said, frowning. "I've checked it twice and the system remains green. In fact, it's powering up. I don't seem to be able to."
        "Tev, cut power to that transmitter immediately!" Artex ordered.
        Tev hit a switch repeatedly, finally slamming his hand on the console in frustration. "No effect, it's on local override. Sir, we must start jamming with the other transmitter: broad spectrum, full power. I am needed below!" With that he charged out of the control room.

        "Tev! Gods damn it!" Artex shouted after him. He looked over at Li, who was waiting expectantly and made a snap decision.         "Do it! And get a combat team down to the location of that transmitter!"
        "Hostile One now 250 thousand kilometers," Lal said.
        Doe looked over at Artex questioningly.
        "Stick with the plan," Artex said. He walked over to the communications panel and watched anxiously as Li raced to power up the jamming. Reaching over Li, he switched on the outgoing communications monitor.
        Static howled from the overhead speakers, then suddenly resolved into a voice speaking in Federation Standard.
        "Attention all friendly vessels in range. This is an emergency message from LieuŠ" The message cut off suddenly with a squeal of noise.
        "Jamming enabled," Li said with palpable relief.
        "Range to Target One now 200 thousand kilometers," Lal said.
        "Signal Beckett to accelerate in 15 seconds," Doe ordered, shouting over the noise blaring from the speakers.
        "Fluctuations in the signal frequency," Li reported. "He's trying to get around the jamming!"
        "Order that combat team to get a move on!" Artex ordered. "And find out where the hell Tev went and send a team to back him up too."
        Sparks flew from Li's console and the noise overhead cut out abruptly as a large portion of the communications panel went dark. "I've lost outgoing communications ability," Li said.
        "Range to Hostile One now 150 thousand kilometers," Lal said.
        "Punch it!" Doe ordered.
        Mallory surged forward, followed half a second later by Beckett. Artex grabbed the back of the command chair to steady himself as they hurtled towards the Romulan ships.
        "Heavy jamming coming from the scout," Lal reported as her display was suddenly swamped with electronic garbage. "It looks like Beckett is using some reserve power to try and burn through some of it."
        Excellent, Artex thought, he's committed to the attack.
        "Weapons, stand by," Doe ordered. "Hold fire until 20 thousand kilometers. Helm, hold course and overrun the target."
        "Aye, Sir," Lal said. "Range to target now 80 thousand."
        "Plasma launch! Two torpedoes in the air from Loyal Spirit, headed straight for Beckett."
        Artex held his breath as the range closed.
        "Range now 40 thousand. Sir, Beckett is firing!" A lone photon torpedo streaked past their bow and smashed into the forward shield of the Loyal Spirit, followed by phaser fire. Artex couldn't believe the policeman got a hit at that range through all the jamming; in the Earther's trivideos Federation photons never hit anything.
        "Torpedoes now 30 thousand kilometers from Beckett. She is decelerating rapidly and has shut down her active fire control signals. Weasel is out!"
        As they watched, a distraction shuttlecraft left Beckett's bay and a mirror image replaced her trace on the tactical display. The plasma torpedoes streaked towards the shuttle and winked off the display anti-climactically moments later as the pseudo-plasmas impacted the weasel harmlessly. Phaser fire from the Loyal Spirit blew Beckett's shuttle apart and her ghost image began fading from the tactical display.
         "Range to Hostile One now 20 thousand!" Lal said.
        "Weapons, fire phasers and torpedo!"
        "On the way!"
        Lal hit a stud on her panel and sent another photon torpedo hurtling towards the Loyal Spirit, missing by a narrow margin. Their phasers were equally wide off the mark, scoring glancing hits on the destroyer, which barely penetrated her reinforced forward shield.
        "Very good," Artex said to Lal. "That looked like a convincing miss."
        "It wasn't hard with all that jamming, boss," Lal replied. "I don't know how sensor techs see anything through this soup."
         "Damage assessment on Loyal Spirit?" Doe asked.
        "She's putting on an excellent show for the Feds," Lal said. "Power systems are going offline all across the ship to simulate substantial damage. She's venting plasma from her engines and is trailing physical debris."
        Dumping the debris was a nice touch, Artex thought. Let's hope it's good enough to sell the civilians.
        Beckett's ghost image continued to fade off the screen as the effects of her destroyed weasel waned. At the moment it faded completely, Loyal Spirit put two more torpedoes in space and turned to rake the police cutter with her aft phasers. Not needing her special sensors anymore, Ranger also turned and pounded Beckett with all five of her phasers. The small ship reeled from the punishment as the torpedoes continued inexorably towards her to deliver the final blow.

        "Mister Li, is the line-of-sight communications gear still functional?" Doe asked. The line-of-sight gear used a modulated laser to establish a voice and data channel between two ships at short range. It was supposed to be an emergency backup to rescue a crippled ship, but also allowed for private conversations as it required a direct path.
        "Aye, Sir, ready to go."
        "Smith, overrun and join up with the Loyal Spirit." Doe ordered. "Li, fire up the line-of-sight communications gear and exchange as much data as you can."
      "Aye, Sir," Li said. "Sir, I'm receiving an emergency distress call from Beckett. They're requesting immediate beam out of all surviving crew."
        Artex looked over at Tarus. "Your team has disabled the automated catastrophic damage responses?" Artex asked.
        Tarus nodded. "As we discussed, the system has been re-configured to accommodate our exit strategy. Fortunately this was completed before the problems with our uninvited guest began." There was a sudden gleam in his eye. "But I have an idea. If I may have manual control over the emergency transporter?"
        Artex frowned, but nodded his assent and ordered the shield facing Beckett dropped. As he watched, Tarus locked the transporters on the Beckett and energized. Artex hoped the SSA man knew what he was doing; they had neither time nor space to deal with any additional hostages. Seconds later the two plasmas slammed into the police cutter's bow. There was a series of secondary explosions until the cutter's warp chamber breached and she blew apart.
        "Now in communication," Li reported. "Data is coming in from the Loyal Spirit."
        "Make sure you kill that link before there's any chance of the freighters detecting it," Artex said. Even if they could not hear the conversation, there was no reason for a conversation to be happening. "Lal, what's the status of Nemesis?"
        "She made a run at the Samantha," Lal said. Damage to the freighter was extensive, but she took some hits from the other freighters. She's on course to link back up with the rest of the squadron."
        "Loyal Spirit confirms through line-of-sight communications that the squadron will now withdraw," Li said. A few moments later the three Romulan ships activated their cloaks, which would also play well with the surviving civilians in the convoy.
        "Well done, everyone," Artex said. "Doe, once communications are restored, get on the line with the civilians. Make them maintain battle alert for at least two more hours; we want to keep them good and scared. Also see to the damaged freighter. If they need to evacuate crew they had best expedite, but send any survivors to another freighter; don't bring them here. I want us back on course to the battle station forthwith. Meanwhile, I'm going to go find Centurion Tev."
        He found Tev one deck below, sitting on the floor next to an open maintenance panel. Severed power conduits dangled out of the open panel. Two technicians were busily working to repair the conduits while a medic worked on Tev's arm, which was sporting nasty electrical burns all the way up his bicep. His ceremonial shortsword lay on the deck under the cabling.
        "I will hear your report now, Centurion," Artex said. "When I saw you running out with your hand on your sword I had hoped you were going to kill the intruder, not attack a wiring closet. Is there a particular reason you preferred to use your blade over another tool, say a phaser? Other than a flair for drama?"
        Tev flushed and tried unsuccessfully to brush off the medic still fussing over his forearm. "Sir, it was imperative to stop that outgoing signal. These power relays were closer than the transmitter itself and I reasoned that clean cuts would be easier to repair later than slagging them with a phaser."
        "Logical, if a tad reckless," Artex said. "But my real problem is with your decision to run off on your own to attend to this. We are going to have a long talk about this when you are recovered."
        Tev stiffened. "I stand by my actions as consistent with the best needs of the Empire in the situationŠ"
        Artex raised a hand to silence him. "Tev, this is not a reprimand. Your actions in this case were quite correct. You probably just saved the mission; don't think I don't realize that. But you are part of a team, and the team must act as one. Individual initiative is all well and good, but you must trust that sometimes your teammates will have a better solution."

        "I understand, Sir," Tev said.
        "Good," Artex said. "When you are done here, check up on the teams installing the sensors. I'm going to send out another wave of hunting parties to find our intruder."
        "At once, Sir."
        Artex reached down and picked Tev's sword off the deck and handed it back to him. "You should also check with your House armsman and see if they have any swords with insulated handles. Don't go getting yourself killed just when I'm starting to like you."

USS Mallory
Romulan Border 8 August 2573; Eagle +6 Days

        "Thus far I do not believe the Romulans are aware I am at liberty, although I presume my activities will eventually arouse their suspicions. I will continue to observe their actions and make additional reports if the opportunity presents itself. Although I have insufficient data to reach a conclusion about their intentions, I believe they pose a significant threat. A summary of the tactical data I have collected so far is in the attached documents."
        "Behold, the face of the enemy," Tarus said to the assembled staff in the briefing room as he paused the playback. Sevrin's face stared back at them on the monitors. The recording had been part of the data sent by the Loyal Spirit during the battle. The Vulcan had apparently recorded this message and loaded it and Mallory's logs into one of the modified log buoys, which had dutifully transmitted it back to Romulan forces.
        "I know this manŠ" Artex said, staring intently at the monitor. There was silence in the room as the rest of the team waited expectantly, but Artex ignored them.
        After a few moments Lal finally asked, "Who the hell is he? He's not one of the senior officers. An engineer?"
        "No, not an engineer," Tarus replied. "We have already accounted for all the engineers. We don't know exactly who he is, and since we're still locked out of the personnel files in the main computer, it's going to take time. I have two of my men going through the crew quarters looking at photographs and personal effects. I'm thinking he's a junior officer in one of the technical divisions: communications, computers, or maybe damage controlŠ"
        "I saw him!" Artex suddenly exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the conference table. "Six or eight hours ago, just before the battle! He's stolen one of our uniforms: he was dressed as a damage control technician. For gods' sake, we spoke with him!"
        "The centurion in the hallway?" Lal asked. "The one that youŠ"
        "Yes, that one," Artex interrupted, his expression warning her to drop it. The one to whom I gave my portable computer. If we survive this escapade, I am never going to live that down.
        "This has serious implications," Tarus said, noticing the interchange between Artex and Lal but choosing to ignore it for the moment. "For starters, we didn't bring a cache of uniforms on board with us. A missing uniform means a missing man, and we have not received any reports of missing crew. This is intolerable sloppiness."
        "Intolerable perhaps, but not exactly surprising," Artex said sourly. "We've been hampered from the beginning by the lot of third-raters that squadron commander saddled us with. Obviously the problem is worse than we thought. Lal, you and Smith will round up our team leaders, do a roll-call of our troops, such as they are, and get to the bottom of this. Tev, how are we doing with the sensors?"
        "Internal sensors have been physically disabled on Decks 1 through 4 and most of Deck 5," Tev reported. "I'd like to move faster but we're so short on hands that I have to periodically pull teams off the detail for higher priority work. Also, I will be sending teams of no less than three to the lower decks to minimize the chances of booby traps or ambush."
        "What about the deployment of our own sensors?" Artex asked. He leaned back from the console.
        "As per your orders, I have deployed all of the portable sensors we have available, primarily in conduits to and from the lower decks where our enemy is most likely hiding. So far there have been no results. If I may speak frankly, Sir, I don't think this strategy is going to work. We don't have enough of our own sensors to provide comprehensive coverage. And even if we did, a passive sensor web is no substitute for a live hunting party."

        "We've tried that," Artex said. "Twice, if memory serves, with an equal lack of success. Do you have some new ideas for our hunting parties to try?"
        "No, Sir, I don't know why we haven't caught him in our sweeps. I can only suggest that, like many hunts, persistence is required for success."
        "You're both wrong," Tarus said flatly. Shrugging in response to the venomous look Artex gave him he continued, "Forgive my bluntness, Tribune, but as you have both stated, hunting him with scanners isn't working. We need to try a different approach."
        "I await your wisdom," Artex said acidly.
       "Our enemy is not content to lurk in the shadows; he walks openly amongst us. Plus he is a Vulcan, one of our distant brothers, and therefore more dangerous than a common Earther. Perhaps a uniform is not all he has stolen from his victim or victims. Perhaps he has been stealing secrets from their minds as well."
        "A telepath?" Artex asked. "What evidence leads you to this assumption?"
        "Just my instincts. Since it is a common ability amongst their people, we must consider the possibility." He looked reflectively back at the monitor. "Such is the price we pay for our passions. There are less than a thousand men in the Emperor's service with similar talents; can you imagine what we could accomplish if psionics remained as common among Romulans as it is among Vulcans? But I digress. My point is that our opponent appears to be a man of action. Instead of chasing blindly after him, we should be trying to draw him into the open where we can deal with him properly."
        "You want to set a trap?" Lal asked.
        "With the proper bait. We know he's been monitoring our actions; let's give him an irresistible target. By now he must know that there was transporter activity just before Beckett was destroyed. We'll leak the information that a substantial number of her crew were evacuated to this ship and are being held prisoner somewhere that we have already knocked out the internal sensors; let's say the wardroom on Deck 3. Since we are so shorthanded, the security is light enough that a rescue attempt will seem possible."
        "This sounds like a difficult story to swallow," Artex said. "That's hardly an ideal location to detain prisoners. Why wouldn't we use a larger space like the mess hall? And why would we guard it lightly?"
        "All easily handled with the appropriate counter-information," Tarus said. "His actions have made us cautious, so we are confining our operations to a smaller area of the ship near the control room. There are few soldiers guarding the prisoners because of unrest with the other prisoners, plus we are preparing a large hunting party to scour the lower decks. The trick is not so much to make the details perfect as it is to make them something he will want to believe and to provide a credible source."
        "And what do you propose as a credible source?" Artex asked.
        "The mind of one of our soldiers, of course. We brief all the soldiers with these details. Then we ignore Centurion Tev's sound advice and start sending individual soldiers ‹ from the fleet, not our own teams ‹ to physically disable the internal sensors and whatever other errands he wouldn't want us doing. I have used this strategy before against Vulcan operatives in the past with great success."
        "I don't like it," Artex said. "It's a passive strategy that surrenders initiative to the enemy. We don't know if he'll take the bait or not and even if he does there's no telling how he will act on it."
        "If anyone else has ideas on a better plan, now is the time," Tarus said, glancing around the room. There was a long silence, after which he looked pointedly back at Artex.
        "Fine," Artex said. "I still don't like it, but I have to admit that what we've tried so far hasn't been working. How long will you need to set it up?"
        A couple hours should suffice," Tarus said. "Also, I'll need those portable sensors redeployed to cover the target area."
        "Very well. Tev, coordinate the redeployment of the sensors and provide whatever other assistance the sub-commander requires. Centurion Lal, you will remain for a moment. Everyone else is dismissed."

        Once the room was empty except for himself and his executive officer, Julian rested his head in both hands and rubbed his temples wearily. "Rav, you may speak freely. I need your advice."
        Lal raised her eyebrows in surprise. One of the things that made their friendship work was the barrier of professional conduct they observed when on a mission. It was very unusual for Julian to drop the formality in the middle of an operation. "Okay, Julian. How can I help?" she asked.
        "I'm contemplating the assassination of an SSA officer and I need you to talk me out of it."
        Ravenna smiled. "And here I thought you two were finally starting to get along. Sorry, Sir, but we're pretty shorthanded as it is, especially with renegade Vulcans on the loose mugging our techs. My advice is to try harder. Also, I know you don't like to play politics, but it wouldn't be the worst thing to come out of this with a well-connected friend."
        "Friend!" Julian snorted. "A man like that has no friends, just playthings. Little pawns he pushes around the board to suit his purposes. He can quote as many officers' manuals as he wants but that man is not a warrior. Words like honor have no meaning to him. Look how casually he spends the lives of those under his command."
        "Well, I admit I wouldn't want to be one of the walking targets he's sending down to the lower decks to be mind-raped," Lal said. "But just because he's not a true warrior doesn't mean he doesn't have his uses." She looked serious for a moment. "He's a weapon. An ugly weapon, perhaps, but a dangerous one. The Empire has need of many weapons to destroy her enemies. Some bring home honor; others just bring back bodies. But so long as he brings victory for the Empire, he's okay in my book."
        Artex looked up at Lal reflectively. From another officer, her words might have sounded insincere, or even corny. But he knew Ravenna Lal was cut from a different cloth. Growing up orphaned and impoverished, she would have lived a short, violent life in a gang if a corrections officer had not seen some potential in her and sponsored her for Praetor's Youth program. The Empire was her mother and her father, and he knew better than to question her sincerity when she spoke of it. Her passion and impulsive nature also made her an ideal second in command, balancing his own tendency towards caution.
        "Fair enough," Artex said. "And your thoughts on his trap?"
        "I'm not so sure it's going to work, but I think it's worth trying," she said. "Even if he doesn't take the bait, his reaction might be helpful."
        "True. It might give us some insight on where he's hiding."
        "Exactly. Then, once you know where he is, you can bring him more supplies besides hand computers. Food, blankets, ammunition, perhaps some of your mother's cookiesŠ"
        "Ugh, stop before I have myself shot," Julian said miserably. "And don't look so smug: I don't intend be standing alone before the firing squad. You were right there next to me and I don't recall you detecting anything amiss."
        "I was distracted by his rugged good looks."
        "Really?"
        "Gods, no. That man looks as rugged as a pastry chef."
        Julian looked up at Sevrin's face still staring at them on the monitor. "Careful, Rav, don't be fooled by appearances. Remember what your friend Tarus said: he's one of our "distant brothers.'"
       "I have never understood this fascination some people have with the Vulcans," Ravenna said. "Between Surak's drivel and a century of living under the Earthers' thumbs Vulcan society has been all but castrated. The Empire represents the best of our kind now; all that's left on that rock is a sorry lot of plant-eating, pacifist weaklings that serve the Federation with science fairs and chess tournaments."
        "I don't know about that," Artex said. "I've fought Vulcans before and I haven't found them to be any more or less inherently dangerous than any other species."
        "I'll prove it to you," Lal said, leaning conspiratorially across the table. "When we complete this mission and return to the Empire bathed in glory, you'll have your pick of assignments. You'll get us assigned to do reconnaissance on the first Vulcan colony in the invasion corridor and once we're there we'll find the largest tavern..."

        "Assuming Vulcans have such things as taverns..."
       "All colonies have such things," Lal said dismissively. "We'll find the largest tavern and we'll find a group of the biggest, ugliest, meanest-looking Vulcans on the planet. And we'll cuss their mothers and piss in their drinks until the whole joint comes down on us. And mark my words, for every one of us that goes down, we'll take six of them with us. What do you think?"
        "I think I see why you relate to Sub-Commander Tarus. You're both crazy."
        "So you're not coming?"
"Oh, I didn't say that," Artex said, smiling for the first time in a long while, "In fact, I can't think of a better way to kill an afternoon..."