The Saints of Violence and Innuendo

Posted on Sun Apr 19th, 2026 @ 4:10am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Commander Ash Randall & Commander Zhora zh'Roothi & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Commander Aidan Datari & Lieutenant Urvasi Elandorn & Lieutenant Rio Kholin MD & Lieutenant Amber Laurell & Lieutenant (J.G.) Dylan Blake & Lieutenant (J.G.) Chase Moore & Lieutenant (J.G.) Stacey Moore & Ensign Sayori Nakai & Ensign Mirakylin Yumerieva

9,639 words; about a 48 minute read

Mission: 8. Epidemic
Location: Main Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-08-27, 11:00

The crimson alert lighting of the Bridge transformed the once-warm, carpeted aesthetic into a chamber of sharp, high-contrast shadows. The welcoming, soft illumination was gone, replaced by the deep, resonant pulse of red light that soaked into the dark blue carpeting covering the deck plating. Wilkan sat in the center seat, his hands resting on the tripolymer-coated armrests, feeling the rhythmic, low-frequency hum of the Coaxial Induction Drive vibrating through the floor and into his very bones.

To his left and right, the empty command positions for the First Officer and Mission Specialist stood like silent witnesses to the gamble he was about to take. The Bridge was a hive of manual input; the soft, urgent chirp-click of LCARS consoles and the persistent, low-frequency hum of the Artificial Intelligence Monitoring System (AIMS) filled the air as the perimeter stations - Communications, Science, and Environment - auto-configured their interfaces for the impending dimensional fold.

Wilkan’s gaze swept across the elevated "horseshoe" console at the rear. On the port side, the Security station was a flurry of scrolling encryption algorithms as the department prepped the electronic warfare suite. To the starboard, the Tactical console was already displaying the aggressive, jagged red targeting reticles of the ISS Millennium, the holographic mask bleeding over into the ship's internal displays. Forward, at the Flight Operations terminal, the massive forward viewscreen showed the Talu homeworld in the distance, but the edges of the omni-holographic matrix were beginning to shimmer with the "fractured" quantum signature of the disguise. The ship’s dedication plaque, usually a symbol of Starfleet’s highest ideals, was washed out by the rhythmic flash of the Red Alert strobes.

Wilkan leaned forward, his reflection momentarily caught in the polished transparent aluminum console surface before he looked down at the Command dais. Directly between his chair and the two forward pilot stations, the intricate Federation seal was woven seamlessly into the carpet, its details now rendered in stark, bloody crimson by the alert lighting, the spot where the holo-communicator would soon project the image of a Dominion Vorta who was about to be very, very confused when this was all over.

He watched the freestanding Science I console to his right, where the L'Tandrey wrist computer was being integrated into the ship's external sensors. The Bridge felt tightened, like a drumhead tuned to a frequency that shouldn't exist. He reached out and tapped the manual interface on his chair, opening the ship-wide channel for his final log entry before the 'flicker' began. He didn't look at the screen; he looked at the empty space where the "ghost" of the Enterprise would soon be left behind.

"Computer," he whispered into the crimson light. "Start recording."

Wilkan took a breath, the recycled air of the Bridge tasting of ozone and cold discipline. He didn't look at the recording indicator on his armrest; his eyes remained fixed on the Talu homeworld, a verdant sphere now choked by the gray, clinical precision of the Dominion’s extraction fleet.

"Captain’s Log, Supplemental," he began, his voice a low, steady resonance that masked the adrenaline-fueled tremor in his chest, "We’re nearing the end of the clock and the crew is a blur of activity, finalizing a plan that oscillates between tactical genius and absolute madness. I must admit, I’m not entirely certain how the next hour will unfold, or if we’re about to sound the death knell for the Federation in this quadrant."

He paused, the rhythmic thrum-thrum of the Red Alert strobes painting the Bridge in alternating shades of crimson and deep shadow. To his right, the Science station's holographic display flickered as it processed the L'Tandrey heuristics, the blue light of the data stream clashing with the red emergency lighting.

"But if our luck doesn’t hold, let the record show that the crew of the Enterprise acted with the highest distinction and valor. They didn't just follow orders; they found a way to fight when I couldn't see one. I accept full and sole responsibility for the outcome of this gamble. If we’re going to be the 'pathogen' the Dominion fears, we’re going to be a memorable one." He tapped the console to end the recording. The silence that followed was brief, broken only by the hum of the drive and the sharp reports from the bridge stations.

Wilkan stood, his silhouette tall and sharp against the red glow. He looked toward the viewscreen where the ISS Millennium's jagged, aggressive HUD was being overlaid onto the Enterprise's standard systems. "Activate the internal mask," Wilkan commanded, his voice cutting through the low thrum of the drive. "Give us the full theater of the Empire."

He watched as a shimmering translucent grid swept across the Bridge from aft to forward. It was a silent, digital wave that rewrote the reality of the room. The transition was seamless; the soft, blue-hued LCARS interfaces flickered and deepened into a predatory crimson and gold. High-contrast tactical readouts replaced the standard Starfleet informational displays, and the lighting shifted from the rhythmic pulse of an alert to a constant, oppressive, dark-room red. Wilkan looked down at the Command dais. The woven Federation seal, a symbol of unity he had served for decades, was consumed by the holographic overlay. In its place now sat the Terran Empire’s sigil: the Earth, impaled by a cold, jagged dagger.

"Galatea, confirm holographic lattice stability," Wilkan commanded, his voice dropping an octave as he tested the weight of the Imperial persona.

"Holographic lattice is stable across all decks, Commodore," Galatea’s voice resonated through the Bridge, the vocal processor automatically shifting to a more clipped, authoritative tone to match the environment. "Terran environmental templates are locked. Internal sensor masks are active. To any boarding party or internal scan, this vessel is now the ISS Millennium."

Wilkan nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement. He felt the familiar, phantom weight of the holographic projection settling over his shoulders. He looked down at his hands; the sleeves of his Starfleet tunic were gone, replaced by the high-collared, black-and-gold aesthetic of a Terran Commodore, complete with the silver-threaded rank insignia of a man who ruled by decree rather than consensus. Around the Bridge, his staff were similarly transformed, their silhouettes sharpened by the aggressive lines of Imperial uniforms, their faces cast in the unforgiving shadows of the new lighting. He walked to the edge of the Command dais, his gaze fixed on the viewscreen where the Millennium's jagged HUD was now fully integrated, framing the Talu homeworld like a target. The Earth-and-Dagger sigil beneath his boots seemed to pulse with every beat of the Red Alert.

"The Enterprise is officially a ghost," Wilkan stated, the coldness of the room seeping into his delivery. "Now, let's see if the Dominion believes in monsters." He turned back to the center seat, the digital illusion of a black-and-gold cape flaring behind him as he sat. He tapped the manual override on his armrest, the interface now responding with the sharp, haptic bite of Terran software. "All hands, battlestations!"

While everyone else's uniforms had been holographically altered, Sora's was the genuine article, complete with the rank insignia of a full Commander, as she had been in the Terran Starfleet. Her hands, clad in fingerless synthleather gloves, gently touched the Ops console in front of her. "I honestly do not know how to feel right now," she remarked, as she stood from her chair to face the Commodore, as per standard Imperial protocol when not in combat, and instinctively began to salute before she stopped herself. She shuddered. "Right. Not really on an Imperial vessel. If the disguise even works on an actual Terran officer who knows that this is a hologram, I have to say, kudos to the engineers."

With a deep breath, the Terran sat back down and checked the readouts. "All systems nominal. Power draw from the hologram is covered by auxiliary reserves." Her eyes wandered to the name and registry of the ship shown on her console. ISS Millennium, NCC-2792-D. That name alone brought back memories, as she recalled watching Millennium-C being blasted with Romulan torpedoes and go up in a fireball during her cadet cruise.

Sora shook her head to bring her back to the present. She was not in the Empire anymore. This was USS Enterprise, with a Terran lick of paint. And the ruse had been her idea. With another deep breath, she focused herself. "Lower decks all reporting battle stations, sir. ISS Millennium is ready for orders."

The feeling was odd to say the least as the bridge changed, if this was indeed the Terran Empire Betazoids and other alien races wouldn’t even be on the ship. Now Amber waited for the ruse to begin.

Wilkan’s hands gripped the armrests of the Captain's Chair, his fingers tracing the Imperial-skinned armrests of his console. The Bridge felt colder, the red light cutting through the space with a jagged, unforgiving geometry. He looked at Sora, acknowledging her report with a curt, singular nod. "Duly noted, Commander," Wilkan said, his voice carrying the cold, resonant weight of the rank he now holographically wore. "The engineers have done their part. Now we do ours. We aren't here to reminisce about the Empire; we're here to use its ghost to haunt the Dominion."

"Believe me, I'm already looking forward to the blinding lights coming back on. Not that I ever thought I'd say that and mean it," Sora replied, with a noticeable tint of displeasure to her voice.

He turned his gaze back to the forward viewscreen, where the jagged HUD of the Millennium framed the Talu homeworld like a prize waiting to be seized. The Earth-and-Dagger sigil on the dais beneath him seemed to pulse in time with the low-frequency thrum of the Coaxial Drive.

"Commander Randall, are we ready to deploy our sensor ghost at current coordinates?" Wilkan questioned, wanting to make sure that their ruse was ready to deploy before he took any further action. "I need that auxiliary power locked to the holographic lattice. I want zero flicker when we hit the Coaxial Drive. If our skin fails for even a millisecond, the Jem’Hadar will see the Federation beneath the paint. Coordinate with Commander zh’Roothi to ensure our shield harmonics are bleeding 'Terran' radiation, I want us to look like a leaking reactor on a warpath."

"All set, sir. We'll have a sensor ghost." The Chief engineer replied, though, at this point, Ash looked, nothing like her usual self.

Wilkan looked carefully at Commander Randall, curious for a moment as she didn't look much like her typical self. It was more than the hologram, something seemed off, "Commander, are you well?"

"Quite well, sir, other than my tail being confined inside my uniform pants so it does not disrupt the holographic overlay." She replied, quietly. "It is far more uncomfortable than I recall it being." She added, though, the Commodore could tell there was something more and, what it was; the Tuansee had, temporally, 'plugged in'.

Wilkan listened to the answer, but he could feel in his bones that there was more to his Chief Engineer's answer than met the eye. There was something about it that didn't feel right in his bones, something that felt... alien. He shifted, uncomfortably, in his chair as her words rung in his ears, "It'll all be over soon."

"Indeed, sir." Ash replied, quietly. Ideally they would be, in and out, in five seconds. Longer than that and the Dominion would have time to engage. Ash knew engagement would happen and they would, likely, miss their 12 second window the sensor ghost would last so Ash had devised a backup plan, a ghost to maintain their ghost image, while they did what they must at the Talu home world. Straws were drawn and a switch was made, the trappings of the Terran Empire a vivid reminder of a, lived, nightmare for the one who took the engineering station on the bridge.

"I can relate," the quiet voice of zh'Roothi interrupted Ash's musing. "I already despise this holographic disguise." The XO said from the neighboring station. "I know it's just a ruse," she continued examining her now milky white skin, sharpened against the aggressive dark lines of the Terran uniform and pointed collar. "But it's oddly itchy."

"Not as itchy as an agony booth." The Diminutive Engineer responded in a barely audible whisper while she continued to work.

Wilkan’s jaw tightened at the comment about the agony booth. Truthfully, it could be a quip that anyone would make about being on a holographic recreation of a Terran starship, but for Wilkan it seemed like something more. Ash had always been an enigma in many ways for as long as he'd known her, but there truly felt to be more to the Chief Engineer's words.

"Duly noted, Ash," Wilkan commented, his voice cold, devoid of its usual warmth.

He turned his head toward the elevated horseshoe, his gaze landing on the Security station. Commander Kuzos no longer bore the pale, delicate features of a Vorta; the internal mask had overwritten his appearance with the imposing, ridged brow and dark, predatory features of a Rigelian-Chelon overseer, his Imperial uniform bristling with the cold authority of the Inquisitor.

"Commander Kuzos, status on the electronic countermeasures," Wilkan ordered, his voice echoing the harshness of the room. "I want the Dominion blinded. Flood their sensors with a feedback loop of Imperial subspace signatures. I want to ensure they won't be able to scan past our hull's 'grit' or identify the Enterprise beneath the ghost. If they try to lock on, give them nothing but static and defiance."

Kuzos didn’t miss a beat, though the holographic mask made his movements feel heavier, his silhouette now that of a broad-shouldered Chelon. He tapped the interface at the Security station, the glow of the LCARS reflecting off his new, scaled brow.

"The blindfold is already tied, Commodore," Kuzos replied, his voice filtered through a synthetic rasp that matched his new appearance. "Electronic countermeasures are cycling through the Imperial 'Black-Out' protocol. I'm flooding the local subspace with high-band graviton interference and scrambled Terran transponder codes. To their sensors, we’ll look like a nightmare of radiation and sensor-ghosts. They won’t be able to scan past the first layer of our 'hull' without their systems melting into a feedback loop." He turned his head slightly, the cold, dark eyes catching the red light, "The Vorta like to watch; I’m making sure they see only what we want them to."

He turned his head toward the opposite side of the elevated horseshoe. "Kuzos, slave the tactical arrays to the Imperial HUD. If we have to fire, I want Phasers set to low power, we aren't here to kill, but I want it to look like we're aiming for the kill. Keep their interceptors occupied, but stay off the haulers until I give the word."

Kuzos nodded, considering the implications of attacking his own people.

Wilkan’s eyes shifted to the freestanding Science I console. "Commander Datari, you and Doctor Kholin have the most delicate payload in Starfleet history. Sync the L’Tandrey heuristics from Urvasi’s PC with the main deflector. Layer the corticosteroid frequency into the primary pulse. You have one window to hit that mountain range and the Talu population simultaneously. If your timing is off by a microsecond, we’re just shooting the planet with a very expensive flashlight. Confirm your ready-state."

Aidan felt the ripple across the bridge as the optics changed. "The program is ready once the doctor enters the necessary parameters," he announced, shivering involuntarily as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Even with his limited empathic ability, he could feel the tension on the bridge. "We'll be ready on time, ready to hit the button on your mark. Right, doctor?"

"We are almost ready right now, it's just a matter of last minute checking and double checking and we will have it off pat, Sir," Rio agreed with Aidan.

"Alacrity, please," He looked toward the Counselor’s position. "Lieutenant Laurell, I know this isn't easy, but I need you to monitor the Talu’s bio-signs and emotions. We need to be sure this is working."

“Understood Commodore, I’ll be monitoring. I’ll let you know when I sense a change.”

"Thank you, Counselor." Finally, he fixed his gaze on the Flight Operations terminal. "Lieutenant Elandorn, you are the hands of this ghost. Execute the Coaxial jump' Drop us into the planetary shadow, precisely twenty kilometers above the Vargis Array. I want us out of the fold with weapons hot and the 'Picard' ghost deployed at our previous coordinates the moment we displace."

At the helm, the female red vixen with the Imperial uniform replied, "Understood, Sir. Setting final coordinates now."

Wilkan sat back, the holographic black-and-gold cape settling around him with a sharp, digital snap. The Earth-and-Dagger sigil beneath his boots pulsed in a steady, bloody rhythm.

"Galatea, confirm all departments are synced to the Imperial Command Matrix," he stated, his voice devoid of his usual warmth.

"Matrix synced, Commodore," the AI replied with a clipped, metallic edge.

"The stage is set," Wilkan said, his eyes locking onto the Talu homeworld, "Are we ready?"

“Ready here,” Amber nodded.

"Science is ready," Aidan replied firmly.

"Waiting for your order," Sora reported in a distinctly more military manner than her usual way of speaking.

"Upon your word, Sir," Urvasi replied.

"Medical is green, Sir," Kholin added in her turn, her final checks all completed.

"I am ready, sir." Chase called out from the secondary security station. Waiting for any orders that came his way.

"Secondary operations is ready, sir." Stacey called out.

Wilkan exhaled, a slow, deliberate release of tension that seemed to settle the high-strung energy of the Bridge. He didn't look at the officers behind him; his focus was a laser-point directed through the forward viewscreen at the distant, unsuspecting Dominion fleet. In the red-washed silence, the only sound was the deep, sub-harmonic thrum of the Coaxial Induction Drive - a sound that felt less like an engine and more like a predator holding its breath.

"All ahead," Wilkan commanded, his voice a low, terrifyingly calm anchor in the crimson dark, "jump!"

The transition was a violent, instantaneous displacement of reality. As the drive reconfigured subatomic geometries, the stars on the viewscreen didn't move; they shattered. A blinding fracture of white-hot energy lanced out from the Enterprise’s nacelles, the Symmetric Warp Field screaming as it folded the manifold. The ship didn't just move; it vanished, leaving a sudden vacuum at their previous coordinates that sucked in the surrounding space with a silent, structural jolt. Inside, the Bridge groaned. The deckplates shuddered with a high-frequency vibration that rattled the tripolymer-coated consoles. Wilkan felt the sickening, Elway-induced lurch in his gut, a wave of nausea that threatened to break his "Commodore" composure, as the ship was momentarily turned inside out.

Then, the "snap" occurred. The kaleidoscope of fractured light collapsed. The Enterprise - now the ISS Millennium - screamed into existence directly within the planetary shadow of Talu. The massive, gray hulls of the Dominion haulers now loomed like jagged mountains on the viewscreen, so close that the atmospheric friction of the sudden displacement caused a shimmering heat-haze against the ship's navigation shields. A thunderous atmospheric shockwave battered the nearby Dominion ships, their hulls groaning under the sudden pressure of the Millennium's arrival. Before the Dominion sensors could even register the massive their arrival, Wilkan slammed his fist onto the manual override on the Imperial-skinned armrest.

"Galatea, initiate Fortress Mode!" Wilkan roared. "Drop the drive and lock us in! Shunt all auxiliary and primary power to the arrays and the forward shield grid! I want this ship anchored to the coordinates!"

The Bridge lights flickered violently - Red Alert strobes momentarily losing out to a deep, mechanical groan that vibrated through the dark blue carpet. The low-frequency hum of the Coaxial Drive died instantly, replaced by the high-pitched, screaming whine of power conduits being force-fed massive amounts of energy. The Millennium shuddered as the structural integrity fields locked the spaceframe into a rigid, non-propulsive state.

"Fortress Mode engaged," Galatea’s voice announced, the metallic Imperial filter sounding like a death knell. "Propulsion is offline. Shielding at 300 percent. Type XVIII arrays are at maximum saturation. We are positioned twenty kilometers above the Vargis Array. External sensor ghost confirmed at previous coordinates, internal masks holding."

Kuzos tapped the interface at the Security station, his Chelon-masked features stark in the crimson light. "The blindfold is tied, Commodore. I'm flooding their local subspace with high-band graviton interference. To their scanners, we are a nightmare of radiation and sensor-ghosts. They won’t be able to scan past the first layer of our 'hull' without paying a hefty price energy wise."

Wilkan leaned forward, the holographic dagger on the floor beneath him glowing in the reflected light of the charging Phaser Banks. Through the viewscreen, the first wing of Jem'Hadar fighters began to bank, their sleek, bug-like hulls glinting in the red light of the Vargis Array’s sensors. They were coming in fast, assuming a Starfleet vessel would be vulnerable after such a jump.

"Let them come," Wilkan whispered, his eyes cold and fixed on the lead interceptor, "Show them the Empire doesn't bow for anyone. Execute!"

The jump had not been a pleasant experience for Sora, but what came after proved almost more shocking. She almost shrank into herself when she heard the Commodore's order. If she hadn't known better, she would have been certain she was back on a Terran bridge, with a Terran commanding officer. The tone in his voice, however, flipped an invisible switch in her brain. "Activating target overlay, enemy craft are closing fast. Energy distribution to weapons and shields are stable," she rattled off her reports in the precise, concise manner expected from a Terran officer. "Deflector array firing solution is prepared, awaiting data from medical in order to initialize."

Amber was feeling a whole new array of emotions, just as the bridge and ship had taken on a new guise so the emotions had changed to match. The lurch of the ship’s ‘snap’ into place had caused her stomach to lurch just as much as everyone else who wasn’t used to it, she’d had to take a few deep breaths to stabilise herself again. If this had been the Empire she’d be nothing more than a slave, or prisoner, and certainly wouldn’t be on the bridge of the ship. Now she waited for the next part to play out.

The transition into Fortress Mode was a heavy, physical transformation. The Enterprise felt like a living thing suddenly turned to stone, anchored to a single point in space by raw power. Wilkan felt Sora’s reaction more than he saw it; her retreat into Terran military efficiency was a testament to the mask's effectiveness, but it sent a fresh chill through him. "Steady, Commander," Wilkan said to Sora, his voice dropping into a resonant, predatory baritone. "We are the anvil. Let them break themselves against us."

On the viewscreen, the Dominion haulers loomed like jagged mountains, their hulls rippling from the Millennium’s arrival-shockwave. The interceptors were already banking, their sleek silhouettes cutting through the darkness of Talu’s shadow.

He tapped the command interface, slaving the tactical HUD to his armrest. "Galatea, wide-band channel. Let them see us."

The viewscreen flickered, revealing a startled Vorta. Wilkan leaned back into the shadows, the Imperial dagger beneath his boots pulsing with dark light.

"This is the Field Marshall of the Terran Imperial Fleet," he announced, his voice carrying a cold, absolute weight. "You are interfering with a high-priority Imperial requisition and have sixty seconds to depart, or I will turn your armada into floating radioactive debris. Choose quickly, Vorta, my gunners are growing bored."

He cut the channel with a sharp tap, the mask of the Admiral hardening. "Commander Datari, Doctor Kholin - the Vorta is blinded by his own confusion - that's our window. Sync the deflector pulse and initialize the payload. Lieutenant Laurell, monitor the Talu for the shift. Fire when ready, but I strongly suggest you hurry! We have one shot and the Dominion aren't going to be fooled for long."

"Sir," came a somewhat strangled affirmative from the Trill science chief as his slender fingers danced across his console. "Deflector synchronised."

Rio's fingers flew across the LCARS under her fingertips even though they were heavily disguised they responded as pre-programmed to. As the Doctor hadn't moved from the place she needed to be launch the prepared load of digital, harmonic and crucial payload from the deflector across into the target. This had to be 100% accurate and the strain and effort was etched on her face.

Aidan's focus remained on the stream of data even as he battled the waves of nausea that washed over him. "Pulse away," he announced, now turning to face the view screen and witness the effect while sensors were doing the same to record the evidence.

Amber focussed on her sense of the Talu, her previous connection with Elara helped her to focus on the Talu over the emotions of her own crew. “Nothing yet” She closed her eyes letting her mind get all the input it needed without the need for visual input. It seemed an age, but she started to feel it, a definite shift in the consciousness of the Talu. “Sir, something is happening, but not enough yet.”

The heavy, oppressive silence of the Bridge was broken not by the Vorta’s compliance, but by the jagged, screaming alarm of the tactical sensors. On the viewscreen, the Dominion haulers didn't back away; instead, they began to vent plasma as they pivoted their massive bulk, shielding the atmospheric extraction arrays.

"Field Marshall, the Vorta is calling our bluff," Galatea’s voice cut through the thrum, the metallic Imperial filter sounding like a death knell. "He is cross-referencing our signature against the Great Link’s records of the 'Mirror' universe. He is moving to verify the nature of our hull with a concentrated scan."

The Millennium shuddered violently as the first volley of phased polaron beams slammed into the forward shields. Because the ship was locked in Fortress Mode, the kinetic energy had nowhere to go; the Enterprise was a mountain of duranium anchored in the void, and the impact translated directly into the spaceframe. A bone-rattling vibration caused the overhead conduits to rain sparks onto the dark blue carpet.

Wilkan gripped his armrests, his knuckles white as the holographic black-and-gold cape flickered against the crimson light. The timing was off. The "confused" window had slammed shut before the payload could fully saturate the target area.

"Commander zh'Roothi, I need every spare watt from structural integrity to the forward arrays! We are an immovable object—make sure we stay one! Ensign Yumerieva, stabilize the power flow to the holographic lattice. If we flicker for even a millisecond, the illusion is over! Ash, keep those Coaxial inducer coils from melting. We need them stable for the extraction."

"Yes sir." Ash responded, just loudly enough to be heard over the din. "We..." She started to add, and then hesitated for a second before continuing. "...anticipated a need and measures were taken." She finished, in a somewhat cryptic fashion.

"Yes Sir." Mira responded as well, her full attention on the energy flows within the lattice. Her tail came to coordinate the various close in views of the ship's lattice structure as Mira maintained control of energy flows between the overlay layers. Those were the weak points, the connections between the lattices, and their flow was critical.

"Understood," Zhora called out from behind.

Through the viewscreen, a swarm of needle-like Talu fighters dived through the Dominion hauler gap, their energy weapons stitching lines of fire across the Enterprise's holographic skin. "Commander Datari, Ensign Nakai, increase the gain! I don't care if we burn out the emitters—saturate that mountain range NOW! Doctor Kholin, keep that heuristic loop feeding the primary array!"

"Increasing gain," Aidan answered, gritting his teeth audibly as he tried to keep things steady. "We're at 100% now, but we will burn the emitters," he reported through clenched teeth. He was still feeling nauseous and now wishes he has skipped his last meal.

Ensign Nakai's hands flew over the secondary science station. "Rebalancing deflector energy distribution to ease on the overload," she reported. "That should buy us a bit longer before it blows."

Rio held her concentration screwed up as tight as she knew how and then added some more that seemed to ooze out of somewhere inside of her, very deep and an answer to a sub-conscious hold on the importance of keeping this steady and accurate. I

"Three Jem’Hadar heavy cruisers are dropping out of warp on our six," Sulu reported, all business. "They're locking torpedoes."

Wilkan looked at the Earth-and-Dagger sigil beneath his boots, now strobing in sync with the shield impacts. He didn't flinch.

"Lieutenant Elandorn, Lieutenant Moore, keep the station-keeping thrusters firing at one-hundred-ten percent. Don't let the gravity well pull us an inch out of alignment! Tactical, fire at will! Target the lead interceptors and the Talu's engine manifolds - keep them off our hull! Commander Bernadotte, Lieutenant Blake, manage the draw! If we lose shields, we lose the ship!"

"We will NOT move, Sir" Urvasi called out. She nodded to Sora as she changed the Propulsion view on her screen to readouts from what Sora was doing. Now she could track where Sora was directing energy so she could compensate Thrusters as well as unused deck gravity generators to help keep them locked to this point above the planet by syncing them with the specific gravity of the exact place they were at.

Chase worked in tandem with the other station to ensure that they were giving it all. He was pleased that between them both the thrusters were giving them everything. Chase continued to fire at will, targeting as ordered. He knew this was key to their mission.

"Rebalancing shields," Sora acknowledged. "Focussing shield strength on enemy firing arcs."

"Maintaining the field," Blake called from the back up terminal quickly stamping out a spark that rained down close-by.

"The EPS grid is compromised. routing the power through secondary channels." Stacey called out wondering if this is part of their strategy. They were getting hit pretty hard, yet it didn't seem like they're objective was to destroy the Enterprise.

"Thrusters reserves at 63%, burn rate normal.. using Gravity plating to sync to planet to increase time of use. 7.32 minutes left at this rate Sir," Urvasi called out. She brought up a lower left corner display and tracked their location while compensating the mathematical equations to still be able to return them directly to where they had jumped from.

He leaned forward, his eyes cold. "Hold the line! Amber, keep your eyes on them! We are the anvil, and the hammer has arrived."

“Aye Sir!” Amber nodded as she opened her eyes and looked towards Wilkan.

Wilkan gripped the tripolymer armrests, his knuckles white against the black-and-gold holographic sleeves of his uniform. The Earth-and-Dagger sigil beneath him flickered as a secondary explosion rocked the saucer section, raining sparks from the bridge dome. He didn't look back at the chaos; his eyes remained fixed on the verdant sphere of Talu, now partially obscured by the gray hulls of the Dominion fleet.

Urvasi's ears flicked as her tail danced over her head, its fur fluffing and then laying flat. She was using her tail to catch sparks and extinguish them before getting to Sora and herself. She only hoped she could catch them all.

"Commander Datari, Doctor Kholin!" Wilkan’s voice cut through the scream of the power conduits, a low, predatory growl. "Ensign Nakai, report! I need a countdown. How much longer until the heuristic payload is fully saturated? We are a stationary target in a live fire zone - give me a window!"

"Fifty seconds," Aidan called back, hoping he was heard over the noise, "beam holding steady at 100%." He checked the readings again and again. "Forty seconds, emitters are protesting. Nakai, help me compensate to keep them going!"

"On it!," Sayori shouted out as she adjusted some parameters to keep the beam steady. "I've coaxed some more power out of it, thirty seconds!"

"That should do it!" Rio responded, almost a hint of triumph appearing on the horizon of her exhaustion. We're so close - just seconds, 15, 14,13 - it's holding! Ten.... " she continued the count but taking in inside her own head as she felt milliseconds that seemed to take years to pass. Her heart was pounding as she found herself literally willing the fusion forward, as if she was trying to move it faster with her mind, which of course was impossible but it was integral to the depth of her involvement emotionally and mentally in what was happening. It was within reach now and the strain was immense, both on the deflectors, the ship, the illusion, the disguise, the ghosting they had left behind, the structural integrity and most of all, on all the crew.

The Enterprise groaned, a deep, metallic scream that vibrated through Wilkan’s boots as another phased polaron volley hammered the primary saucer. The Fortress Mode was holding, but the structural integrity fields were beginning to bleed into the red. On the viewscreen, the Jem’Hadar interceptors were no longer probing; they were diving for the kill, their predatory silhouettes stitching lines of fire across the holographic hull.

Wilkan leaned forward, the Earth-and-Dagger sigil beneath him strobing in a violent, bloody rhythm. He didn't look at the shield readouts; his gaze was locked on the lead cruiser rotating for a broadside.

"Enough with the warning shots," Wilkan commanded, his voice dropping into a cold, absolute resonance. "They’ve seen the ghost; now let them feel the bite. Switch weapons to full power, deploy the point defense turrets. I want their lead interceptors stripped of their shields and their drive sections neutralized. If they want a war with the Empire, give them a masterpiece. Fire at will!"

Kuzos felt a cold, hollow ache settle in his chest that had nothing to do with the atmospheric chill of the Bridge. Beneath the rigid, scaled brow of the Chelon mask, his eyes drifted for a fraction of a second to the life-sign readouts of the lead interceptor—his own kin, bred for a loyalty they couldn't question, now centered in his crosshairs. He had sworn an oath to Odo to be a shield for the weak, yet here he was, the "Inquisitor," about to rain fire on the only family he had ever known.

"The full weight of the Empire, Commodore," Kuzos replied, his voice a synthetic, gravelly rasp that masked the tremor of a man breaking his own heart. He didn't hesitate; the mission demanded a monster, and he would play the part to save the Talu. His fingers struck the interface with a heavy, rhythmic finality, each tap a silent apology to the brothers he was about to cripple. "Phaser banks at maximum saturation. Locking onto the lead interceptors' drive sections. Let them see what happens when they try to cage a nightmare."

The Millennium shuddered as the primary arrays finally unleashed their full, unrestrained fury into the void, the brilliant orange beams lancing out to tear through the dark like a scream.

An alert from her station drew Sora's attention for a second, but she dismissed it after a quick glance. "Holoemitters holding steady, shields at eighty-nine percent," she reported. "Drawing from auxiliary power to reinforce." The alert popped up again, causing the Terran to curse. "Deflector overload imminent," she called out. "Science, report!"

"Full saturation in three, two, one, NOW," Sayori exclaimed in response. "We should be seeing results any moment now."

Amber focused everything she had ignoring the headache it was giving her. “That’s it! It’s working, I can feel a change.”

"Coaxial ready for jump at your command, sir." Ash announced as she brought up a small screen that had a single, large, red button that read 'OFF' and hovered her hand over it waiting for the command.

"The tide has turned," Wilkan stated, his voice ringing with a cold, triumphant clarity. He didn't wait for the sensor data to confirm it; he could feel the shift in the Bridge’s energy as the Talu broke their suicide runs. He slammed his hand onto the armrest, reopening the wide-band channel.

Borath’s image flickered back onto the screen, the Vorta’s face a mask of strained composure. "Your interference is being logged, Terran. The Founders will..."

"The Founders are irrelevant," Wilkan cut him off, leaning forward so his face was bathed in the harsh, crimson glow. "You are trespassing in Imperial space, Vorta. This world is now a sovereign protectorate of the Terran Empire, you have thirty seconds to break orbit or I will order my forces to destroy yours." A rapid beeping came from his armrest and the Terran Commander sighed, "My scanners show a Federation vessel, the Enterprise, is dropping into this theater to investigate your 'diplomatic' extraction. They have a tedious habit of interfering with Imperial business and an even worse habit of defending the weak."

He let a slow, predatory smile touch his lips, "I’d love to stay and trade volleys with my counterpart, but I have other worlds to subjugate. If you’re still here when the Federation arrives, you can explain your presence to them. I imagine they’ll be much more 'accommodating' of you than I've been, but I grow tired of you and your people, Vorta. Choose your exit. Quickly!"

He severed the link with a sharp flick of his wrist. "Get us out of Fortress Mode and Jump!"

"By your command, my lord Field Marshal," Sora acknowledged, slipping ever deeper into "full Terran". She immediately initialized deactivation of the Fortress mode, and redistributed additional power to the shields to keep the ship in one piece in the brief interval before the jump.

"Fortress Mode off, Jump is NOW!" Urvasi's words were loud on the bridge to warn the crew to steel themselves. She was so glad she had continued to work on the formulas for current position in order to get them back to their exact position they needed to be.

The departure of the ISS Millennium was less of a tactical retreat and more of a localized disaster for the Dominion ships left in its wake. As the Coaxial Drive engaged for the second time, the vacuum effect described by the Elway Theorem manifested with terrifying intensity. When the Enterprise dematerialized, it left behind a sudden subspace sinkhole of nearly seven hundred meters in length. The surrounding atmosphere of Talu, already agitated by the battle, rushed in to fill that vacuum at supersonic speeds as debris, gas, and stray energy were violently sucked into the void where the Millennium had been a millisecond prior. This created a colossal "implosion-clap"—a shockwave that rippled backward into the Dominion formation. The nearest Jem'Hadar interceptors, already reeling from the "arrival" shockwave, were sucked into the collapsing pocket of space. One fighter, caught too close to the saucer’s previous coordinates, had its structural integrity fields overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of the collapsing vacuum, its hull crumpling inward like a discarded ration tin before being spat back out by the resulting kinetic rebound.

When the stars returned to their natural, steady light, Wilkan stood, his legs heavy from the cumulative stress of the jumps. "Drop the masks," Wilkan commanded, his voice returning to its natural, steady warmth.

As the holographic black-and-gold cape dissolved into his gold Command tunic, Wilkan took a deep, steadying breath of air that no longer tasted of ozone and discipline. On the Bridge, the transformation was a visceral shedding of a nightmare. The oppressive, blood-red glare of the Imperial theater flickered once and died, replaced by the soft, welcoming hues of Starfleet's standard lighting. The transition felt like a physical weight lifting from the room as the jagged, high-contrast tactical interfaces smoothed over, returning to the intuitive, warm glow of the LCARS consoles.

Around him, as he looked around the Bridge, the "Inquisitors" and "Centurions" returned to their true selves. His eyes lingered on his officers as they exhaled the tension of the Empire, their silhouettes softening in the familiar, carpeted warmth of the room.

But there was no time to rest...

Wilkan gripped the edge of his chair, the sudden transition from "Field Marshall" back to Captain leaving his chest tight. The warmth of the Enterprise Bridge was a relief, but the tactical sensor readouts flashing on his HUD remained cold and urgent. Borath would be retreating, but the Dominion didn't tuck tail without a sting.

As the Terran mask faded around her, Sora's uniform remained unchanged. For a moment, she was sitting still at her console, as if the sudden shift back to reality had stunned her. When her dazedness finally passed, she violently shook her head as if to wake herself up from a nightmare, before immediately taking off the Terran badge. Then, she reached into a drawer under her console to retrieve her glasses and her Federation combadge. "Okay. Okay, it's over. I'm safe. I'm not there anymore," she muttered to herself, as if to remind her that it had all been a disguise.

"We don't have time for the dust to settle," Wilkan said, his voice regaining that familiar, grounded authority. "The Dominion is reeling, but we have a duty to ensure they don't double back."

He turned toward the front of the Bridge, his eyes sharp.

"Helm, bring us about! All head full, I want a pursuit vector on those Dominion haulers. They might be trying to hide in the sensor shadow of Talu’s moons. Ops, find them!"

Sora took a deep breath, still shaken from the transition, before starting a full sweep of the system. "One moment, sensors are still adjusting to our new position." She brought a tactical map up on the viewscreen, which, much to her relief, had also returned to its regular Federation HUD. "You're half-right, Commodore. They are trying to hide, but not between the moons. They've high-tailed it to the other side of the planet and holding position. Looks like they're waiting to be told what to do next."

"Understood sir, Inward course with outbound Moon trajectory plotted, engaging now." The Enterprise responded to Urvasi's touches just like the Pursuit Predators that Terrans were, Apex Predators of their world where constant pursuit and cooperation had brought them above all other predators.

He shifted his gaze toward the XO, "Exec, divert all remaining power from the holographic emitters back to the forward shields and primary Phasers. We’re done with the light show; I want our standard defensive profile at maximum readiness. If they turn to fire, I want them hitting a wall of Starfleet duranium, not a ghost."

Now back to her 'normal self' the Andorian responded brightly: "Understood, diverting power now."

"Commander Datari," Wilkan continued, acknowledging the Trill at the science station. "Run a deep-scan of the Talu atmosphere. I need to know if the heuristic payload held firm after the jump. Ensure that consciousness shift is stabilizing. If there’s any residual instability from our Coaxial wake, I want to know about it yesterday."

The Trill had gone violently sick after the last jump, his spots a stark contrast against his now ashen face. He straightened and nodded silently as he turned back to his sparking console. His hands were showing burns of various degree when the console had first erupted into heavy sparks and sizzles in an apparent overload, but he didn't seem aware of them as he was still on an adrenaline high. "Deep scan initiated," he announced hoarsely, eyes starting across the data output as it appeared. It took a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice sounding a little fainter and laced with a pain he was starting to feel. "Payload is holding steady, the shift is showing a stable spread. Counselor, please confirm."

There was a brief pause as he shifted to a different set of readings. "No significant changes from the coaxial instability."

“Confirmed” Amber nodded as she took a deep breath feeling pretty queasy thanks to the coaxial drive jump. The strain of putting everything she had into sensing the change in the Talu resulting in a small trickle of a nosebleed, which she carefully wiped away. Her small headache was now quite a thumping one possibly linked to the shadow Rio had found on her scans.

Seeing the blood at Amber's nostrils, Urvasi brought over a handkerchief from her duty sash to place Amber's lap. She was ignoring the small pains from her tail where there were several burn spots on her tail skin besides several areas of melted fur. She had kept the worst of the sparks off of the forward stations, which was one of the functions of her tail.

Kholin had noticed the sparking of Aiden's console and the burns on his hands, she was also aware that he wasn't the colour combination that he would normally have been so, with her payload sent out, she was now free to grab her medical equipment and regenerate one hand at a time while he was still using the other and swapped over to complete both. She also administered an analgesic hypospray shot which she set to include a small proportion of anti-nausea dosage as well. Without any more words she also scanned the Bridge crew with her experienced eyes and set up a mental Triage list and proceeded round helping and healing any other wounded crew.

Aidan cast her a grateful look as she worked, instantly feeling better as she injected the medication. While his complexion didn't return to normal just yet, he was relieved to find the nausea gone. As her attention was already on others, Aidan chose not to break her concentration by speaking up in gratitude m

Finally, Wilkan looked toward the back of the bridge. "Ash, we pushed her hard today, but keep that Coaxial Drive on a low-power standby for diagnostic review."

The Chief Engineer looked to the Commodore for a second or two before answering. "Yes sir." She responded, with a slow nod. "Coaxial is on low-power standby and diagnostics are in progress. There will be irregularities in the diagnostics spanning our time between the first jump and immediately prior to our second jump." She informed the Captain of the Enterprise. "Frankenshuttle has resumed its berth in secure storage." She added, quietly, as an aside.

Wilkan sat back into the center chair (the real one) without the Imperial gilding. He felt the familiar, supportive contour of the Enterprise command chair beneath him - a stark contrast to the rigid, cold throne of the "Field Marshal." The lingering nausea from the Coaxial jump was a physical reminder of the distance they had just traversed, both in space and in spirit. He watched Sora reclaim her identity, and his heart went out to her, though his expression remained a mask of focused command.

"Steady, everyone," Wilkan said, his voice dropping into a resonant, calm tone that anchored the Bridge. "The nightmare is over, but the mission isn't. We’ve given the Talu their chance. Now, let’s make sure they keep it."

"Captain, we’re being hailed," Galatea’s voice announced, her vocal processor having shed its clipped Imperial edge for its standard, melodic tone. "It’s a wide-band transmission on all Federation emergency frequencies. The Dominion heavy cruiser is breaking formation and moving to intercept."

Wilkan’s jaw set as he was still adjusting to the lack of a cape when he heard the news from Galatea. He didn't need a sensor sweep to know who was on the other end. "On screen," he commanded, smoothing the front of his tunic and settling into the center seat.

The viewscreen flickered, but the jagged, crimson theater of the Empire was gone. Borath appeared, his features composed, though his eyes darted with a frantic, analytical hunger.

"Captain Targaryen of the Federation Starship Enterprise," Borath began, his voice smooth but laced with a sharp edge of suspicion. "Your arrival is… remarkably timely. We were just visited by a vessel claiming to represent a 'Terran Empire' in a ship that looked identical to yours, though their manners were less refined, if not by only a smidge."

Wilkan leaned back, projecting a mask of calm, diplomatic curiosity. "Is that so, Administrator? I’m afraid I don't follow. We’ve only just dropped out of warp to investigate strange energy readings in this sector. With all that happened to the Talu because of our contact, we were hoping to have a chance to aid them, but, if you’ve encountered a hostile force, the Federation would be interested in your sensor logs."

Borath tilted his head, a predatory smile playing on his lips. "Coincidence they vanished moments before you appeared, leaving a trail of spatial destruction that nearly crippled my fleet."

"Space is full of coincidences, Borath," Wilkan replied, his voice dropping into a steady, resonant baritone.

"We shall see," Borath spat. "Make sure you abide by the treaty, Commodore, lest you be forced back to your corner of the galaxy. The Founders shall be watching." The channel abruptly closed.

Wilkan smirked, "Charming fellow."

"And dangerous," Aidan added as he listened, "almost as if he's seeing right through the ruse. There's a ripple going across the planet, it seems that our effort is paying off. Let's hope we got here in time and they will request for help."

Sora shook her head. "Not sure it was the best idea to send the message to them yourself when we were disguised, Commodore. Still, what's done is done." For now, it seemed she had fully returned to her usual self after the shock of the transition out of the Terran disguise. "All systems reading nominal, no ill effects from our maneuvers," she reported after checking the relevant readouts. "The haulers are still holding position as well."

Kholin hovered close to the Commodore now that there seemed to be a moment to take another look and do more to assist him to his own recovery. Her very presence and attention to him, wordless but obvious, seemed to inform him that he needed to make some time for her and his next treatment session.

Commander Randall quickly adjusted her uniform pants and expertly threaded her tail through the molecular seam designed for the purpose of allowing her tail to be loose. The five foot long appendage flipped and swished in an agitated manner, as it had a mind of its own and that mind was, more than a little, angry. That done, the Tuansee took her seat and resumed, actively, monitoring the status of the Coaxial drive. "Coaxial will be available, if needed, in 20 minutes, sir." She announced and turned to look to the Commodore. "The safety measures I put in place to ensure drive stability have been removed. I will make a full report on what those were in our mission debriefing." She added, and turned back to her work station.

Wilkan Targaryen felt the sharp sting of the medical scanner as Kholin moved in, her silent efficiency a grounding force against the lingering vertigo of the fold. He offered the Doctor a brief, appreciative nod before turning his attention back to the primary viewscreen, where the Dominion fleet remained a cluster of jagged shadows against the Talu horizon.

"I appreciate it, Ash, but let's not plan on folding space again today unless the stars themselves start falling," Wilkan said, his voice regaining its full, melodic warmth. He looked toward the Science station, noting the steady hands of Datari despite the fresh dermal regeneration. "The ruse held long enough to break their momentum, Commander. Whether Borath 'sees' through it or not is secondary to the fact that he can't prove it, and he’s far too pragmatic to gamble a fleet against a 'Terran' ghost and a Federation explorer at the same time."

Wilkan shifted his gaze to Sora, offering a small, reassuring smile to acknowledge her return to the fold. "As for the message, Sora, sometimes the only way to beat a monster is to speak its language. Borath needed to believe he was outmatched by someone more ruthless than himself, now, he’s just dealing with a Captain who has a very long list of treaty violations."

He stood, smoothing his tunic one last time, the weight of the Empire finally, truly gone. He turned back toward Tactical, "Kuzos, open a hailing frequency to the Talu planetary capital. Let’s see if they’re ready to talk to the people who don't wear daggers on their chests."

"Frequency open, Captain," Kuzos announced. The synthetic, gravelly edge of the "Inquisitor" persona was gone, replaced by his natural voice - steady, though still underscored by the heavy emotional toll of the fire he’d been forced to rain down on his own kind. "Patching through to the High Council’s primary comms-hub now."

"Ministers, this is Captain Wilkan Targaryen of the United Federation of Planets," Wilkan began as he stepped toward the center of the Bridge, standing tall over the Federation seal that had reclaimed its rightful place. "We have become aware of the interference in your world by the Terran Empire and the Dominion and are here to offer medical assistance, structural repairs, and diplomatic sanctuary, no questions asked."

The viewscreen resolved to show the Talu High Council chamber, still hazy with the settling dust of the recent shockwaves. Prime Minister Dervimnurk sat tall, his breathing finally clear and measured, though his expression remained a mask of cold iron.

"Safe, Captain Targaryen?" Dervimnurk’s voice echoed with a dry, cynical edge. "Your timing is impeccable. The 'Field Marshal' who preceded you claimed this world as a Terran protectorate, fired a pulse that cured our plague, and then warned us you were coming to 'investigate.' It was a masterclass in intimidation followed by a convenient rescue."

Minister Grizreme stepped into the light, his hand resting on his sidearm. "The Vorta is screaming about Imperial radiation, but the people in our streets are already cheering for the Empire. They saw a black-and-gold ship chase away the Dominion and heal the sick with a single, violent strike. To them, the Terrans are saviors; you look like Federation tax collectors arriving to manage the wreckage."

"A clever ruse," Dervimnurk added, leaning forward until his eyes dominated the screen. "Did the Terrans heal us to spite the Founders, or are you simply flying the wrong flag today? It looks as though the Federation let a monster do their dirty work just to keep your white gloves clean."

Wilkan met the accusation with a grounded, unyielding calm. "The Empire didn't heal you out of mercy, Prime Minister; they did it to deny the Dominion a prize. If you prefer their brand of 'salvation,' you’ve seen the price they demand. We offer you the chance to stand on your own feet without the daggers, leashes, or the shadow of a throne others demand."

Minister Chirnup flicked a series of data points across her console. "Regardless of the source, the pathogen is inert. Prime Minister, we need the Federation’s stabilization filters before the resonance from that pulse causes a secondary overload. We have to take this hand."

Dervimnurk stared at Wilkan for a long, heavy beat. "Lower shields, Chirnup. But Captain... if I see so much as a flicker of a black-and-gold cape on my sensors, I will open fire."

"Understood," Wilkan replied. "Enterprise out."

As the channel closed, Wilkan sat back in his chair. The ache in his temples from the Coaxial jump lingered, but the Dominion icons were finally fading from the long-range sweep. The masks were put away, the capes were ghosts, and for the first time in hours, the Bridge felt like home.

"Standard orbit, Lieutenant, let's get to work on healing the sick and injured."

As the ship was already nearing the planet but through an outward Moon course, she only had to shift the course and speed to get to a Standard Orbit Position. Urvasi called out, "Course laid and set, 28 seconds to standard Orbit."

"I'll get to work on the filters," Aidan offered, "a design they can replicate ourselves without the interference of our alloys that made them sick in the first place. And perhaps they can provide us with clothes so we can work unhindered by forcefields? We don't want to make them sick again..."

Wilkan shook his head, "I'd like all repairs and support done without crew leaving the ship, this time at least. That way we ensure the safety of the Talu. Let's get to work, people," he looked at his XO, "I'll be in my Ready Room. You have the Bridge, Exec."

Turning from the wall mounted station where she'd been assisting during the transition zh'Roothi nodded at the order. "Of course."

Urvasi called out, "Bridge, Helm, Standard Orbit achieved. Station Keeping enabled."

"Permission to return to my lab?" Aidan asked, considering Astrometrics as much as a lab as any other science office.

"Thank you Urvasi," Zhora nodded to the helm before switching her attention to the Trill who still looked a touch pale. "Permission granted Aidan. Good work everyone, however we still have much to do for the Talu yet."

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