God's Gonna Cut You Down, Part 2

Posted on Wed Jun 24th, 2026 @ 1:53am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Commander Galatea & Gamma Quadrant NPC & Commander Ash Randall & Commander Zhora zh'Roothi & Lieutenant Commander Kuzos & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Urvasi Elandorn & Lieutenant Amber Laurell & Lieutenant (J.G.) Dylan Blake & Ensign Mirakylin Yumerieva

9,062 words; about a 45 minute read

Mission: 9. Oubliette
Location: U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-10-09, 13:30

OOC: Warning! This post includes intense scenes involving the death of several crewmembers aboard the Enterprise.

The deck plates beneath Petty Officer Mr’uaw’s massive, padded paws vibrated with a sickening, heavy thrum as the Enterprise dropped violently to Impulse. He extended his claws just enough to dig into the structural molding of the corridor bulkhead, anchoring his heavy, tabby-furred frame against the kinetic lurch. His ears pinned flat against his skull, filtering out the rhythmic wail of the Red Alert as his focus locked onto the broad, rigid shoulders of First Ikidik'tan moving just ahead of him.

Following a Jem'Hadar into a tactical bottleneck went against every feline instinct screaming in Mr’uaw’s chest. The Alpha Quadrant had history, and a Caitian’s sense of smell didn't easily forget the sharp, chemical tang of Ketracel-white or the cold, reptilian scent of an apex predator engineered solely for slaughter. But Kuzos had given the order. The chain of command was iron, and right now, the monster behind the shuttlebay doors was infinitely worse than the soldier leading them toward it.

"Stack up," Mr’uaw growled low, his deep voice scraping like gravel through the corridor. He signaled with a sharp jerk of his tail, positioning his team against the cold duranium wall just short of the primary hangar access threshold.

Behind him, Security Team 4 moved like a well-oiled machine. Gunalei took the low stance, his rifle raised and humming at maximum lethal capacity. Nishiyama pressed tight against the Rigelian’s flank, her dark eyes unblinking, while the Zakdorn, Tonnaxit, calmly checked the geometry of the doorway, her mind undoubtedly calculating the crossfire vectors. Ahead of them, Ikidik'tan and his remaining Jem'Hadar vanguard came to a dead halt, their heavy Polaron Rifles leveled at the buckled, fluid-splattered blast doors of Shuttlebay 1. The air here was thick with the stench of ozone, scorched circuitry, and the faint, copper tang of spilled blood leaking from the shattered control room above.

Mr’uaw tightened his grip on his Phaser Rifle, his thumb resting firmly on the hair-trigger. His golden eyes darted from the fractured door to the stoic, unmoving profile of the Vorta commander behind them. Every muscle in the Caitian’s body was coiled like a high-tension spring, his claws itching to tear into the multi-limbed nightmare that had butchered his crewmates.

They were at the threshold. The trap was set. Now, all they needed was the word to spring it.

Kuzos put his hand on Mr'uaw's shoulder. "I will lead, it is my place to do so. To face danger and engage it. Just be prepared to act instantly." As they waited for First and his squad to move and engage the enemy.

"Targaryen to Security Team 4. Kuzos, the asset is a living collective of violent entities, and he's actively absorbing the neural patterns of our fallen. Phasers will only feed him. Do not attempt apprehension. Set all rifles to maximum wide-beam disruption and flood the under-bay conduits. If we can't separate the host from the contagion, we drop the hammer and paralyze the entire network."

Kuzos listened to the new information the Commodore relayed to him, his violet eyes narrowing. After a moment he replied, "Understood Commodore." He tapped his combadge to open the link to First and his squad as well as talk to Mr'auw at the same time. "New information First. Set all your rifles to maximum wide beam disruption and flood the under bay conduits." He glanced at Mr'auw, "Your squad as well Mr. Mr'auw."

"The order is received, Commander," Ikidik'tan spoke, his voice cold. His loyalty was to the order, and the order was now absolute disruption. His reptilian fingers adjusted the cycling rate on his Polaron Rifle, widening the emitter aperture until the weapon hummed with a harsh, low-frequency rattle. He turned his blank, engineered stare toward the buckled hangar doors, "We are dead. We go into battle to reclaim our lives." With a sharp jerk of his barrel-chested frame, the Jem'Hadar moved into the breach, his squad fanning out behind him like a wall of living gray stone. "Advance!"

Behind him, Mr’uaw’s lip curled back, exposing long, curved white fangs as his thumb clicked his Phaser Rifle's manual selector to maximum wide-beam dispersion. The weapon's emitter glowed a dangerous red. He didn't care about the history of the Dominion right now; he cared about the dead crewmen. "You heard him, Team 4 - spread the beam, watch the crossfire," Mr’uaw growled low, his tail whipping violently against the deck plates as his massive, padded paws propelled him forward right on the Jem'Hadar's flank. "Let's give this bastard fifty reasons to drop."

Rip the flesh! Take the sky! The telepathic screaming inside Xurbam’s skull was a violent, multi-ton weight.

Forty-nine maximum-security minds shattered against one another, a cacophony of ancient hatreds fighting for total control of the host’s hyper-accelerated limbs. One entity, a mass murderer from the Saltah’na pre-collapse era, demanded they point the stolen rifle at the buckled Shuttlebay doors. Another, an apex saboteur, fought to completely override the Frost River's navigation matrix to force a blind Warp. The feedback of their combined rage pulsed through his temples in a blinding, erratic crimson glare.

No! Please, look what we have done!

The single original host, the peaceful prison itself, wept from the suffocating depths of the collective. Xurbam desperately threw his own mental weight against the raging ocean of criminals. He clawed for a single thread of neural dominance, trying to force his multi-jointed arms to drop the weapon. Xurbam’s true voice pleaded, projecting a desperate, bleeding cerulean hue across his hyper-reactive skin. The cage was built to keep you from the stars! If we do not stop, they will drop the hammer and paralyze us all! We are killing innocent souls!

A brutal, unified surge of hostility instantly choked his voice back into the dark. The forty-nine merged psychological profiles - now even stronger after absorbing the neural patterns of the dead crewmen - snapped his jaw shut with impossible physical strength. They did not want peace; they wanted mass extinction. The crimson light flared violently back to life. The lock was obliterated. Turning his vacant, burning eyes toward the primary hangar threshold, the collective locked the runabout’s primary hatch and prepared to face the incoming teams.

Kuzos watched as First and his team moved in a single uniformed pattern. There was no hesitation in their steps, no wasted movement they were brutally efficient in what they did and that was eliminate problems. They approached the Frost River as silent as ghosts, not whisper of sound not a molecule of air disturbed. Their weapons rose to their shoulders in a single fluid movement. Gray reptilian fingers tightened against the trigger of their weapons. Waiting for the right moment to pull the trigger.

Kuzos and Security team Four moved as silent as death as they took flanking positions to First's team. Their weapons were raised, their focus locked on the runabout. Their faces devoid of emotion. No words were spoken; no rousing speeches were given. They were here for one purpose, to stop a rampaging enemy. It was time to avenge their fallen comrades. The enemy would be stopped here. Their rampage would go no farther. he raised his hand so First and Mr'uaw and his team could see and then in a savage scythe motion he brought in down and hell came to the shuttle bay. Multiple blasts from multiple rifles bathed the runabout's hull as wide beam disruption beams played and danced across the hull the bay itself was filled with the harsh savage hum of harmonics at work.

Crewman Nishiyama Rokuko kept her rifle leveled at the under-bay conduits, her shoulder pressed against a structural column as the staggering hum of the wide-beam disruption sweep shook the deck plates. The blinding wall of weapon's fire completely bathed the Frost River in a vibrating corona.

"Keep the pressure on!" Mr’uaw’s deep roar cut through the mechanical screaming of the hangar. "Don't give him a path out!"

As the brilliant glare rippled outward, the Red Alert lights caught a brief flicker of movement away from the primary exchange. Nishiyama pivoted, advancing toward the shadows of a small under-bay trench used to work beneath auxiliary craft. Gunalei fell into step right on her flank, weapon raised. They cleared the buckled bulkhead, tracking their weapons in a synchronized sweep among the stored mechanical equipment. There was no sign of Xurbam's shifting silhouette. Instead, wedged tight beneath a heavy repulsor jack, completely uninjured but visibly shaken, was Mira. Her active life support belt hummed softly in the dark. Utilizing her Alekian instincts, she had successfully escaped the runabout's negative pressure zone and vanished into the deck.

Mira continued on her journey towards the shuttle bay and ship junction through the underbay connecting network. She was almost to the next one when all hell broke loose above her. 'Still three underbays away from junction, shoot...' was her thought. Despite the shouts, yells, and patterned feet around her, Mira had made it to another underbay that was now two bays away from the Frost River. Her muscles were feeling the strain of the no pattern movements she had been using, so she stopped for a minute. Then, phaser fire erupted above her so she dove under the nearest heavy equipment that would allow her to fit. It was here the security team found her.

"Hold fire! Team 4, we found Mira!" Nishiyama called out, maintaining her defensive stance. "She's safe. No injuries."

Kuzos heard the message but wanted clarification. "Repeat your last transmission Nishiyama." He ordered crisply.

Mira shifted herself to look up at the suddenly stopped feet near her. It wasn't an intruder, it was Enterprise security. She looked up at them and spoke in a low voice, "Security, Ensign Yumerieva, do I stay put, or continue my way to Medical? I have.... " Mira paused, then continued with, "Crap, only 20 minutes left on my life support belt. Something has been draining the charge. Can't worry now, so, orders?"

Unknown to Mira, her belt had been protecting her from the phasic fields being produced by Xurbam, the worst drain when he had boarded the Frost River while she had been still hiding in the underbay the runabout was parked over.

Nishiyama’s ears rang with the relentless hum of the Phaser fire above, but Mira’s sudden, quiet voice from beneath the repulsor jack pulled her focus into a razor-sharp lock. She kept her rifle tilted slightly outward, body acting as a shield between the Ensign and the corridor, though her dark eyes flicked down to read the flashing warning telemetry on the girl's life support housing.

"Commander, we have Ensign Yumerieva secure," Nishiyama clarified quickly over the squad comms, responding to Kuzos’s demand for confirmation. "She’s green, uninjured, but her life support belt is critically depleted. It’s failing under the drain from the target. Requesting immediate extraction vectors to Sickbay."

Kuzos didn't hesitate, " Kuzos to transporter room. Immediate transport of Crewman Nishiyama and Ensign Yumerieva to Sickbay."

Dropping into a low crouch next to Gunalei, Nishiyama looked down into the dark recess where the Alekian was wedged. The raw survival instinct it took to dodge Xurbam, drain a cockpit's atmosphere, and slip through a negative pressure zone undetected was impressive, even for an engineer. Nishiyama offered a tight, reassuring nod, though her posture remained coiled for a firefight. "You stay put, Ensign, right where you are," Nishiyama ordered in a firm, steady tone, her finger resting lightly against her Phaser's trigger guard. "Do not move an inch until we clear a path. You've got an entire combined security wall between you and that runabout now. Let us do the heavy lifting."

Mira nodded. Her eyes closed, her mind racing through scenarios. She opened her eyes, then replied, "Thank you. I greatly appreciate the security. But.. I am contaminated. I need to get to quarantine. If my life support belt runs out... I need... You need to vaporize me. Understood? I... *sniff and shiver* I need to cease to exist for the Enterprise survival. Please, we are two bays away from junction to normal Jeffries tubes to other decks.. I need to get there.. or... yah, don't move an inch, aye."

Lieutenant Rrawran’s silver-white fur bristled along his spine, the rigid hackles standing tall as the limited sensor telemetry from Shuttlebay 1 flooded his console. The massive Rorworr tracked the chaotic cascade of wide-beam energy readings and flickering sensor spikes, his yellow eyes, sharp and predatory, never wavered from the real-time structural diagnostic maps of the Frost River. A low, sub-audible rumble vibrated deep within Rrawran's barrel chest, vibrating the heavy framing of his console. He could smell the phantom tang of ozone even up here. He tapped the primary command sequence with a heavy, clawed finger, configuring the Tractor Beam to mirror the exact frequency of the wide-beam disruption grid. The coordinate tracking matrix on his screen began flashing a solid, unyielding green.

"Tractor lock established on the Frost River, Commodore," Rrawran rasped, his voice dropping into a guttural, gravelly register that commanded attention over the persistent wail of the alarms. "The second the docking clamps disengage, the beam will pin the runabout to the hangar. He won't establish a flight vector." He pivoted his massive, wolf-like head slightly, watching the hardwired tactical feed overlay on the main viewscreen. On his screen, the AI isolated a distinct bio-signature suddenly isolated itself within the secondary trench. "Team 4 reports Ensign Mira has been located under the auxiliary service deck," Rrawran growled, baring his long, white fangs in a grim expression of relief. "She is safe and secure. The containment perimeter is holding; the target is cornered."

Wilkan watched the events unfold on the static-laced visual sensor from the Shuttlebay, frustrated that the Enterprise didn't have access to its more robust sensor profiles. Still, the onslaught below had been fast-paced, deliberate, and (in his impression) needlessly easy. It didn't match what had happened before with Xurbam; if anything, it was the exact antithesis of what they had experienced so far.

Urvasi called out, "I have a direct line to the Shuttle Bay Flight Deck Controls. I have the magnetic atmospheric shields shifted to needed parameters for pinning the Frost River into the shuttle bay."

Before Wilkan could dwell on it, the twin shimmer of transporter beams erupted between him and the viewscreen, as Commanders Bernadotte and Randall materialized, temporarily pulling his attention away from the hangar deck below.

"Welcome back, ladies," the Commodore greeted sharply. "Stations."

He didn't wait for their acknowledgment. Instead, he rose from his chair and walked toward the center of the command well where Urvasi and Blake were seated, knowing the young Lieutenant would seamlessly surrender the station to his superior. Wilkan crossed his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing and his jaw tightening as he stared up at the viewer.

"Anyone else feel like this has been too easy?"

“Far too easy” Amber responded in acknowledgement. “From what A’shura showed me, this has been barely a scratch on what that thing is capable of. Perhaps Xurbam is having an influence?”

"Easy isn't the word I'd use," Zhora murmured. "If whatever has taken over Xurbam's body is centuries old he'll experience of escaping capture or fighting when cornered. We shouldn't let up."

Ash hurried over to resume her station and, after logging in, immediately reviewed the details of what had transpired; sensor logs, security logs, engineering, communications and medical logs all scrolled by, simultaneously, in a blur.

"Fifty drivers...only one steering wheel and Xurban may now have several 'allies' if the personalities, in addition to the memories, of our fallen crew are now in play." The Chief Engineer advised, loudly enough to be heard over the background noise of the Bridge.

Rather than returning to her station, Sora remained where she had materialized. "Or it could just be disoriented," she replied directly towards Amber. "I wouldn't count on any of the personalities in there being friendly, not after that long in isolation. From the data recorder we recovered, we know that this being is basically a living prison. What we do not have is information on what any of those various personalities were guilty of to deserve such a fate."

She shook her head as she finally made her way towards the operations station. "We should put an end to this. Containment will only achieve so much. It's only a matter of time before it breaks free again. It needs to be destroyed."

Amber looked towards Sora. “Unfortunately, A’shura agrees with you, without containment the risk is too great so that means this creature must be destroyed.”

"A prison ship running a perpetual exile doesn't lock away petty thieves, Commander," Wilkan added, his jawset in a grim, unyielding line as he listened to his Senior Staff. The consensus on the Bridge was hardening toward execution, an outcome his Starfleet training detested but his tactical instincts whispered was rapidly becoming unavoidable. He turned his sharp gaze back to the main viewscreen, "If the collective includes the strategic knowledge of our own crew, we aren't fighting a disoriented animal anymore: we're fighting an enemy with intimate knowledge of this vessel. We terminate the threat the moment..."

"Commodore!" Rrawran rasped, his yellow eyes widening as his claws flew across the Tactical interface. "The Frost River isn't the only signature dropping its clamps, all of the Enterprise's runabouts are powering up simultaneously. Phasers, Impulse manifolds, Warp Nacelles, they're all activating at once!"

Wilkan turned at the viewer, "Lock them down!"

Urvasi flinched. The flight crew in the flight control was supposed to be monitoring the situation and applying appropriate counter measures. Yet, they seemed to be baffled and not doing anything? Or maybe, they were trying and the phasic fields were interfering? She sent Flight Control Command Overrides to the runabouts via flight deck control, her status as Chief Flight Control Officer with control status paramount. She only hoped it was enough.

“Commodore I have an idea” Amber offered as she approached Wilkan. “How many telepaths do we have onboard? If there’s enough, combined with A’shura we could bury our way past its mental defences and disorient it long enough for the teams to do what they have to do.”

Sora unceremoniously shoved Lieutenant Blake out of the chair at the Operations station and moved to sit down, before realising she still had her weapons belt on. Quickly, she unclasped Myrtenaster's sheath and leaned the rapier against the console, before taking her seat. Immediately, she saw bad news. "Don't know if that'll work," she reported. "At the current load, it'll take maybe thirty seconds before the blast doors blow. We need to open them and let Frost River out. Then catch it with a tractor beam, and blow it up."

At her work station Commander Randall, quietly, double checked that ALL system access of the KIA personnel had been revoked and dispassionately monitored the measures being taken to prevent the shuttle from breaking loose. The engineer thought there might be another option available to them and briefly consulted with herself to confirm that the Command Override order had even existed in this universe. Ash shrugged to herself on finding it was no longer being employed, officially. "A Command Override option would very handy right about now." The Engineer mused, in an uncharacteristically, loud voice.

"A Command Override option would be very handy right about now," the Engineer mused, in an uncharacteristically loud voice.

The Commodore stared at the sensor feeds on his viewscreen, his mind furiously calculating the compounding variables. Seven confirmed dead, their collective tactical knowledge now weaponized against his ship. If he kept the hangar sealed to box Xurbam in, the runabouts' combined Phaser fire would breach the main doors anyway, triggering a catastrophic explosive decompression that would instantly vent Team 4, the Jem'Hadar, and Ensign Mira into the vacuum of space. At worst, a Warp Core detonation inside the enclosed bay could tear the Enterprise apart.

But letting Xurbam clear the hangar doors meant risking an interstellar outbreak that could slaughter billions. It was a classic no-win scenario, slipping rapidly out of control.

Wilkan turned sharply away from the viewscreen, a heavy, grim defeat settling over his features. He couldn't trade the immediate lives of his people down in that bay for a future gamble. "Belay the lockdown," Wilkan ordered, his voice a quiet, painful anchor cutting through the sirens. "Open the primary shuttlebay doors and release the docking clamps. Let that bastard go."

Urvasi immediately sent the cancel of the previous overrides and then sent the primary controls for doors to open with docking clamp release. "Helm, Bridge, commands sent."

Amber wanted to protest, but she knew there was little other choice right now she just hoped they would find a way to catch up with Xurbam before more harm was done.

"In this close we could utilize our point defense system to good effect." Ash suggested, the anti-fighter and torpedo defense system was designed for, exactly, for in close saturation fire.

"Point defense won't clear the deployment arc in time," Rrawran rasped, his claws punching a rapid counter-sequence into the tactical console. "The split-second they clear the barrier, they'll be masked by our own nacelle shadows."

On the main viewscreen, the massive duranium blast doors of Shuttlebay 1 slid open. The sleek shapes of the Frost River and the Monongahela River shot out from the hangar, their Impulse Engines flaring a violent, blinding blue as they broke into the black.

"Pin them, Rrawran!" Wilkan ordered, "Don't let them break free!"

"They're clear of the threshold!" the Rorworr growled, the silver-white hair along his spine standing on end. His massive hands flew across the interface, "Tractor lock failing! They're pushing their nacelles past the breaking point." Rrawran growled, a fierce rumble vibrating deep within his chest. The space behind the Enterprise warped violently, folding inward before snapping back with a silent, brilliant compression flash. The Rorworr sighed, his voice dropping into a grim, hollow register, "Both runabouts just jumped to Warp. They're gone, Sir."

"Hold the line!" Mr’uaw roared, his deep voice fighting against the rising operational hum. The violent, synchronized whine of Warp Cores spiking at once vibrated right through Petty Officer Mr’uaw’s padded paws. The Caitian's ears pinned completely flat against his skull as the deck plates beneath him transitioned from a steady rumble to a high-frequency, mechanical shriek. His golden eyes darted from the Frost River to the massive, shadowed silhouette of the Monongahela River sitting in the parallel berth.

The runabout wasn't just waking up; it was weaponizing. Before Team 4 or the Jem'Hadar could adjust their positioning, the forward Phasers on both the Frost River and the Monongahela River flared into a brilliant, lethal orange charge. Driven by the stolen tactical knowledge of the collective, the two vessels opened fire simultaneously, pouring a heavy, continuous stream of Phaser fire directly into the heavily reinforced primary doors of Shuttlebay 1.

"Take cover!" First Ikidik'tan barked, his engineered voice ringing with absolute clarity as a hail of white-hot duranium sparks and molten slag exploded backward from the impacted bulkhead.

"The target's trying to blast its way through the hull!" Vulrir Tonnaxit called out, shielding her face from the blinding glare as she calculated the structural degradation of the outer doors. "If those doors give, explosive decompression will blow us all into the vacuum!"

Kuzos barked orders, "First, your team will concentrate on disabling the Frost River's weapons while I, Mr'uaw and his team concentrate on the Monongahela River. We cannot allow the outer doors to be breeched!"

"Victory is life!" First Ikidik'tan’s cold voice rang through the hangar's screeching atmosphere. He accepted the command without a millisecond of hesitation, raising his Polaron Rifle and adjusting the emitter matrix from a wide-beam sweep back to a tightly focused compression pulse. "Target the weapon mounts beneath the Frost River's nose cone! Continuous fire!"

The four surviving Jem'Hadar soldiers stepped into the blinding flash of the crossfire as a single, unyielding block of gray stone. Their rifles opened up in terrifying unison, sending a stream of violent purple energy slamming directly against the runabout's forward weapon emitters. They were too late. The stolen tactical knowledge of the collective was already two steps ahead. Even as the polaron fire battered the forward shielding, the automated docking tracks beneath both the Frost River and the Monongahela River disengaged with a sharp, pneumatic hiss. Driven by the hijacked systems, the secondary Phaser fire suddenly ceased, redirected instantly into the landing gear mechanisms as the two massive auxiliary hulls began to lift off the deck plates.

"The vessels are breaching anchor!" Ikidik'tan barked, his reptilian fingers adjusting his weapon's cycling rate as the immense kinetic backwash from the runabouts' impulse manifolds slammed into his squad. "They are executing a manual departure sweep inside the bay!"

Mira was waiting under the maintenance equipment. However she was hearing the various traffic on her comms as she was watching her life support belt going double fast towards depletion. She noticed where she was at, then decided action. She grabbed her equipment and interfaced with the heavy repulsor jack and sent a direct mode command signal to cause all repulsor jacks to double lock onto their docked runabouts and to bring them into emergency lockdown mode for impulse ion leakage containment. It was the first thing on the Ensign's mind for complete containment of the shuttles as well as once connections were made, all systems would power down. She refused to watch her timer, this was protect the Enterprise time for her skills and life.

Kuzos through the sound and blasts of phaser, disruption fire flooding the shuttlebay and bathing the two runabouts saw the repulsor jacks double lock onto the runabouts and force them into lockdown. "Transporter room! Beam Yumerieva to Sickbay Now. No questions do it!"

"Transporter Room 3 to Commander Kuzos, I cannot execute!" Petty Officer Akaathaan Saarnosh hissed, her scaled fingers slamming against the primary sliders. "Interference is too high. If I try to pull Ensign Yumerieva out now, she'll scatter across the bulkhead."

The sudden, structural groan of the primary hangar doors cycling open echoed through the bay like a dying predator.

Crewman Nishiyama Rokuko threw her back against the structural column, her eyes widening as the emergency klaxons shifted from a rhythmic wail to a continuous, piercing alert tone. The massive, reinforced duranium doors were parting, breaking the seal to reveal the infinite, terrifying void of open space behind a thin, shimmering atmospheric forcefield.

"They're opening the bay!" Nishiyama yelled, "Command is letting them go!"

The sudden release of the docking locks caught the collective by surprise, but only for a heartbeat. The Frost River and the Monongahela River roared, their main Impulse manifolds screaming at blinding intensities as they broke free from Mira's frantic repulsor-jack lockdown overrides. The two heavily armed runabouts pivoted gracefully in the zero-gravity vacuum of the flight deck, banking sharply toward the widening exit.

Mira crawled out from under the equipment. Her life support belt yellow field turned orange, showing only 30 seconds left. Mira jolted, then performed a quick sweep with her eyes across the under bay finding what she needed, 'There, there, and there'. She ran towards an aux craft docking airlock. As she passed by a maintenance bench she grabbed a tech gear case with a strap.

Nishiyama watched in grim fascination as the auxiliary crafts slipped through the glowing boundary of the atmospheric shield, tearing out into the blackness of the Rakhari Sector. A heavy, suffocating silence settled over Team 4 as the immediate threat of explosive decompression vanished, replaced by the crushing weight of knowing exactly what they had just unleashed upon the stars.

To the right of Nishiyama, across another bay and up a short stair case, Mira threw herself into the maintenance craft docking airlock with a twist to hit the close plate on the airlock door. It closed upon the engineering ensign while her life support belt's field turned red, then shut down. Mira went to a sitting position on the floor while ignoring the pains where she had hit the floor with a twisted body. She opened the case and rummaged around for a power cell. She found one in a tool. She took out her spent cell, put in the found one, and activated it. A yellow field once more surrounded her with a timer showing 12 minutes. She closed the case, stood up, then put the strap around her and then a safety bar in the airlock. She activated the outer airlock door. The atmosphere within the airlock explosively scrambled out to be free while trying to take Mira with it. The life support belt protected her from getting injured by it. She hoped the contamination was totally gone. She closed the outer door, then removed the strap from around her. That done, she hit her combadge and asked, =/\= Transporter, Ensign Yumerieva, one to beam to medical containment chamber if feasible. If not, I will get there, I have 10 minutes left on life support belt.=/\= It was now that the shakes hit Mira, hard, and she slowly sat down, trying to overcome them. She had to get to medical quarantine...

Kuzos stared as the two runabouts exited the shuttlebay and a deafening silence settled over the bay. He automatically touched his combadge. "Kuzos to transporter. "Now would be a good time to transport Ensign Yumerieva to Sickbay and quarantine if needed." He tapped his badge again, "First what is the status of your team? Mr. Mr'uaw, same for the status of your team." He posed quietly.

First Ikidik'tan answered immediately, his cold voice cutting through the comms without a hint of tremor, "No additional casualties. We await your orders to pursue or secure the perimeter."

Across the bay, Petty Officer Mr’uaw stepped out from behind his structural column, his chest heaving as he deactivated his Phaser Rifle. His silver-and-tabby fur was singed along his left shoulder from the backwash of the hangar doors, but his golden eyes were razor-sharp, "Team 4 is intact, Commander. We're banged up and spitting soot, but we're standing."

Before Kuzos could reply, the ship's primary transporter network chimed, overriding the local tactical frequency as a smooth, authoritative voice cut through from the main terminal room. "Transporter Room 3 to Commander Kuzos, the interference wave has cleared. I have a lock on Ensign Yumerieva’s fresh life support signature and am dematerializing now."

"Thank you." Kuzos and then under his breath muttered, "Better late than never." he then addressed First. "First, have any wounds squad suffered tended to and then secure the perimeter. Mr. Mr'uaw same for your team have wounds treated then at some point we will have a security briefing."

The hum of the main viewscreen on the Enterprise bridge did not change pitch, but to Commodore Wilkan Targaryen the Enterprise around him suddenly felt hollow. On the viewscreen, the residual trail of ionized subatomic particles left by the Frost River and the Monongahela River was already dispersing into the cold vacuum of the Rakhari Sector. They were gone, the collective had escaped, and it was all his fault.

A cold weight settled into the pit of Wilkan’s stomach, a stark contrast to the warmth of the Enterprise's Bridge. Seven people were dead and their minds - spanning tactical expertise, engineering overrides, and intimate structural knowledge of the Enterprise - had become part of that monster. By opening those doors, he had preserved Security Team 4, the Jem'Hadar squad, and Ensign Yumerieva. He had saved his crew from the horrors of explosive decompression, but he traded a localized disaster for an interstellar incident. If that entity penetrated deeper into the sector, the blood of billions would trail back to the Enterprise.

Wilkan didn't let the shadow show on his face. He let out a slow, deliberate breath, his jaw tightening into a hard, unyielding line as he squared his shoulders. Trepidation was a luxury an officer in the Center Seat couldn't afford to indulge. They were behind the line, the enemy was out in the wild, and it was his ship's job to stop the storm.

"Cancel Red Alert," Wilkan ordered, his voice cutting cleanly through the lingering tension on the Bridge. "Bring us to Yellow Alert. Urvasi, secure the flight deck controls and initiate a full diagnostic on all remaining auxiliary bays. If Xurbam left a backdoor in our launch matrices, I want it sealed five minutes ago."

Urvasi's tail shook twice in affirmation as she replied, "Bridge, Helm, on it." She sent commands to the flight deck as well as doing overrides through diagnostics to look for anything amiss. If anything, anything, was found, she would send over to Sora for Ops to check over those system controls. Ops had computers and controls, Engineering had engines, power sources, and various energy fields.

"We need to find Xurbam before he can cause any more carnage," the Commodore ordered as he turned his gaze toward the Bridge crew. "Starfleet has twelve ships - including Enterprise - and a starbase sitting in this Sector Block. I want them all looking for our runabouts." He turned toward Ops, "Sora, begin long-range sensor sweeps on the trajectory of our runabouts. They had to come down somewhere, and when they do, we will be there."

"Already on it," Sora replied. "Will report as soon as I have them."

"I know we've been pushing Coaxial far too much recently," Wilkan directed to Ash, his eyes finding the Chief Engineer quickly, "but we're going to have to force it for one more jump. The minute we track down our runabouts, I want this ship to jump right on top of them. See to it."

"Yes Sir." Ash replied, quietly. "Coaxial will be available when the time comes." The Chief Engineer confirmed, and had to agree with herself on the sentiment that the measures taken, so far, to make coaxial available could not be maintained indefinitely without attracting, unwanted, attention from quarters nobody wanted to see or hear from. It was all being done with, discreet, localized fields but someone was bound to notice, eventually. The Chief Engineer turned back to her work station and monitored her progress in Main engineering.

Urvasi heard the exchange between Wilkan and Ash and began spatially plotting microsecond hopping with the Coaxial drive for where the Enterprise Special Sensors were tracking the two runabouts.

Wilkan stepped down from the command platform, his boots clicking firmly against the deck as he walked. The Bridge crew was handling the immediate aftermath with the discipline that he expected of them, but their grit alone wouldn't win this fight. They were dealing with an adversary that subverted the mind itself. To stop it, he needed a deeper understanding of the contagion, and the prison that had failed to hold it.

"Exec, you have the Bridge," Wilkan said smoothly as he approached the Turbolift doors. "I'm heading to Sickbay to have a little chat with a cat."

"Understood," Zhora replied in a soft tone that reflected the sensation of hurt and betrayal she felt in the wake of Xurbam's carnage and escape.

"Counselor, with me," Wilkan ordered as the turbolift doors hissed open with Wilkan's approach.

Amber nodded rising from her seat to join Wilkan.

Before the Counselor entered, Wilkan embraced the momentary isolation as the capsule awaited the second passenger. He leaned back against the duranium bulkhead, closing his eyes for a brief second to let the tension drain from his shoulders before snapping them open again. Determination replaced the lingering doubt. He had a job to do and he'd do it.

"Deck 8," Wilkan ordered as the car smoothly descended through the primary superstructure. He tapped his communicator, "Kuzos, join me in Sickbay."

"On my way." Kuzos's voice came back through the combadge, it was cold and clipped.

The hum of the viewscreen on the Enterprise Bridge did not change, but the energy in the room shifted instantly the moment the Commodore stepped into the turbolift. At Tactical, Rrawran’s heavy, furred fingers tapped a rapid, rhythmic cadence against the sleek interface. The large Rorworr officer was fixed on the cascading telemetry of the Rakhari Sector, his pointed, wolf-like ears twitching backward to catch the fading echo of Wilkan’s boots. The weight of the moment wasn't lost on him: seven souls were weaponized against them.

Rrawran adjusted his stance, his thick coat bristling slightly with suppressed tension as he isolated the Warp signatures of the Frost River and the Monongahela River. The primary sensor arrays were struggling against the residual distortion left by the collective's escape and the Chamra Vortex, but he wasn't looking for a straight line; he was mapping probabilities based on fuel consumption, structural stress, and the blind spots of local patrols. He leaned forward, a low, guttural growl of intense concentration vibrating in his chest as his sharp, canine muzzle neared the display. He was cross-referencing the data with the sector's gravitational eddies. Xurbam was fast, but a runabout couldn't run forever without bleeding resources.

A sharp, brief bark left his throat, followed by a low rumble that his collar-mounted universal translator struggled to process. After a harsh second of digital processing static, a flat, heavily mechanized electronic voice spoke for him, cutting through the sudden quiet of the Bridge as he looked over at Zhora zh'Roothi in the Center Seat.

"Commander, I am narrowing down the probable drift vectors, but they've been masking their Warp trail," the mechanical voice paused as Rrawran let out a short huff, his ears pivoting forward as he keyed in a secure communications overlay to implement the Commodore's sector-wide alert. The translator clicked again, its artificial, synthesized tone contrasting sharply with the Rorworr's raw, animalistic posture. "In accordance with the Commodore's order, I am drafting the tactical alert for the sector block. Recommend we instruct the other eleven vessels to initiate wide-beam tactical sweeps specifically tailored to hunt these registries."

Sora stared at the console in front of her, and eventually hit the command to project the current results of the sweep onto the main viewscreen. "Well, so far, so nothing," she commented sarcastically. "Tactical is correct. Target's warp trail disperses less than a thousand kilometres from where the vessels entered warp, and long-range sensors are not detecting anything resembling their signatures. They have also disabled all transponder and communications systems we may have used to track them."

"In the Alpha Quadrant, faced with the same situation, I would be auditing the relay nodes of the sub-space communications array for, unaccounted for, sub-space distortions generated by the, relative, passage of a warp field." The Chief Engineer observed, quietly. "The Dominion has a similar network, I would assume." She added.

Rrawran let out a deep, rolling growl that vibrated through the tactical console, his tail lashing behind him in rhythmic agitation. "The Dominion is a closed fist," the mechanized voice stated, the synthesizer smoothing out the jagged, guttural resonance of the Rorworr's tone, "Their sensor relay nodes are not for allied use, and they guard their network with zeal." He chuffed, his ears flattening against his skull as he turned back to the viewscreen.

Ash nodded understanding while she spent a few seconds reviewing her memory of 'by the book' for masking a warp signature and considered the probabilities that Xurbam, with the knowledge gained of Federation systems, would deviate from established protocol, such as it was, or wing it. "Masking a warp signature does not eliminate it, just changes it to appear to be something else. The runabouts are traveling in tandem, are not cloaked, and there are only so many ways a warp signature can be masked, for a single vessel, let alone two in relatively close proximity. We're looking for noise that doesn't belong and it should be identifiable as an echo of itself." Ash advised, figuring Rrawran was probably doing just what she was suggesting but, sometimes, hearing a strategy posited by another suggested other ideas.

"Ash," Sora responded, rolling her eyes in a way neither the Chief Engineer nor the tactical officer would see. "I studied Tactical Operations at the Imperial Starfleet Academy, I know all about how to track vessels that are trying to hide. Whether that is by cloaking, or by masking warp signatures. And a few other means as well." She followed up with a hollow chuckle. "When I tell you I don't see anything, I mean it. Even the 'wake' produced by their warp bubbles disappears. I have no idea how they are doing it, unless they dropped out of warp somewhere and are travelling at sublight, using a type of cloaking device that, last I checked, those runabouts didn't have."

For a moment, she remained silent as she stared at the sensor readings again. "Remember how the creature masked itself from our internal sensors? I have a feeling it can do something similar to a small ship, or even two. Maybe we need to call in help from some expert hunters."

Rrawran let out a low, vibrating growl, his fur bristling as he turned fully toward Sora. His pointed ears twitching with the intensity of his focus, "The Drai are not friends to anyone outside the Dominion's closed circle, but they are incredible hunters. If we contacted them, they may embrace the opportunity... even though we may've destroyed their homeworld last time we talked." He looked at Ash, absently, remembering that the Chief Engineer helped to release the Tosk.

"A factor I doubt the Drai will forget or forgive no matter the opportunity of hunting formidable prey," zh'Roothi voiced from the central dials. "Aside from our own task force of Federation vessels our list of allies willing to assist is slim at best. None, the less Kuzos may have some useful connections to explore," the Commander bit back a sigh reflecting since the Enterprise arrived in the Quadrant they'd experienced very little success in mending old wounds. It was a wonder they hadn't been driven back across the border dodging torpedo and phaser fire in the process.

"Let's keep searching for their tail," zh'Roothi continued. "In the meanwhile what were you able to learn from the debris gathered on the rouge planet?" she asked Sora and Ash. "If it belonged to Xurbam there may be something we could use to anticipate his next step."

Ash glanced the direction of Rrawran with a, decidedly, unapologetic expression and then to the XO. "The ship was Xurbam's, mobile, prison cell." She stated. "Work is ongoing extracting additional data from the recovered core." She added, before looking the direction of Sora. "Commander Bernadotte, sometimes it is useful to verbalize what is established protocol. Xurbam's abilities to mask himself from sensors, for example..." She mused, quietly. "If he is using that same capability to mask both runabouts while also masking their warp signatures there are interesting interactions happening, one of which would be the generation of antilepton particles within the warp fields that will build up and cause the warp fields to, eventually, collapse and do bad things to the runabouts, in general, unless they are bled off, gradually, or released all at once. That is, if he's using that capability, mind you." The Chief Engineer posited, while silently wondering why Xurbam hadn't just transported to the bridge, killed everyone, and happily commandeered the Enterprise and the combined knowledge of her Command Crew.

"We don't have any available allies in this quadrant, let alone anywhere near us, I know," Sora replied, still fiddling with the sensor parameters to try and widen the search grid and filter for more variables. "But there are people in this universe with plenty of knowledge on how to track a Starfleet vessel trying its hardest not to be found, even using exotic methods." She frowned. "Wait a second. That number includes me, I'm just being an idiot. Remember the frequency of that weird distortion the alien was causing?" Without waiting for a reply, she reconfigured the long-range sensors to pulse at that exact frequency. A few seconds later, she burst out laughing, and pointed at the sector map displayed on the viewscreen.

"Well would you look at that," the Terran remarked with a smirk as a clear red path appeared on the map. "Antilepton emissions, pulsing at our friend's preferred frequency, as well as a not quite perfectly masked warp trail."

As soon as Urvasi saw the trails, she turned the Enterprise onto them. She then input the path into the Navigational system all the while building up a spatial representation within her mind of systems she knew while correlating them with the Navigational System.

"Resourceful," Rrawran growled, the mechanical translator giving his voice a sharp, approving edge as his ears perked forward, and the fur along his muzzle twitched. His clawed fingers danced across the tactical console with renewed purpose, instantly locking the Enterprise’s navigational sensors onto the pulsing trail of antilepton emissions, "He is masking the vessel, but he cannot mask the rot of his own signature." He shifted his stance, his tail lashing behind him like a whip. "If these readings are accurate, the runabouts are running hot. That much buildup is a death sentence for a warp bubble. He is pushing them toward a collapse."

"Good work Sora," Zhora nodded towards the Terran before turning slightly towards Rrawran: "To push that hard he's either desperate or frightened. Any ideas how long he can maintain at present speed?"

"He is not fleeing, Commander; he is sprinting toward a dead dream," the translator synthesized. "The warp bubbles are fracturing; the discharge is erratic. I am not an engineer, but estimates are he has between eight and ten hours before catastrophic collapse. He is burning these vessels to ash, believing the destination is salvation rather than a funeral pyre."

Ash debated with herself over the merits of voicing her thoughts on the motivations of Xurbam and came to an agreement that NOT voicing her thoughts would be worse, in the long run, than voicing them. The Chief Engineer sighed, audibly, and waited as the right moment give voice to her theory would present itself in a minute or so.

Galatea materialized at the edge of the Bridge, her holographic form shimmering with a soft, analytical light. She didn't waste time with formalities, her eyes immediately tracking the new red path on the main viewscreen. Her voice was calm and precise, "The trajectory is illogical for a standard retreat, he is not heading toward the border or a safe harbor." She turned toward the Helm, her brow slightly furrowed in calculation. "My sensors show he is accelerating toward a high-density star system. Tell me, exactly what is Xurbam's destination?"

Hearing Galatea's query, Urvasi called out, "Galatea, Helm, I am working on it....." After another thirty seconds, Urvasi called out, "Got it. The only High-Density Star System just within a Dominion Territorial Border is a desolate star system considered a ancient civilization graveyard known as Saltah'na. Records indicate the Saltah'na were very advanced, disappeared a millennia ago, their main planet was the fifth one, and it is monitored through automated sensors to prevent visitors from taking any souvenirs." She looked closely at a footnote, "By the Creator, there are occasional ancient energy spheres that show up which contain psychic patterns and historical records of the race, and can impact the minds of outsiders. Xurbam may be trying to get home.. and maybe get even stronger, hence why he is not caring about running hot... he just needs to get to the fifth planet of the Saltah'na system."

"Then let beat him to it," the XO said flatly. "Urvasi plot in a course and engage."

Urasi, already having done the plotting, called out, "XO, Helm, course already plotted. Engaging to Warp 7.2 to put us there 45 minutes ahead of him to let our warp signal die out before he gets within Sensor range of Saltah'na system." Urvasi knew if the XO needed to be there faster or slower, she would let Urvasi know with a Warp Factor Change.

"Anyone else wonder why, when he had the opportunity, Xurbam didn't transport himself to the bridge, kill everyone and commandeer one of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy along with the command codes and knowledge to put it to most devastating effect?" The Chief Engineer asked, pointedly, though in a somewhat, rhetorical manner. "I think Xurbam is unaware that the Saltah'na are gone. His prison has been on that world for nearly nine centuries but we do not know how long it travelled its route before something went wrong and it crashed there. I could be wrong, probably am, but the runabouts are a means to an end, his end, right after he exacts his revenge." She posited.

"I think the explanation why he took the runabouts is pretty simple, actually," Sora theorised. "Many minds, one body. And a ship this size requires more than one body to operate with any semblance of effectiveness." She shook her head. "Regardless. Urvasi is right, we can't let Xurbam reach its destination. Given its current speed and course, that will happen in less than ten hours."

Rrawran’s tail lashed with a sharp, whip-like crack, his fur bristling as the tactical display continued to pulse with the runabouts' erratic signal. He let out a low, rumbling growl that the translator smoothed into a cold, clipped cadence.

"The Chief Engineer asks why he did not take this Bridge," the mechanical voice stated with a low, rumbling growl that the translator smoothed into a cold, clipped cadence beneath it, "I have been wondering the same since the alien escaped. Thus, I have been analyzing his maneuvers since the Hangar Bay breach," he tapped a sequence on his console, overlaying the antilepton emissions with a new, chaotic diagnostic of neural bleed.

"Look at the flight path. It is not a straight line. It stutters. It shifts," the Rorworr described. "Our evidence shows that Xurbam is a living prison and the other consciousnesses the prisoners, what if every time he reaches for a tactical override or a weapon system, a dozen other consciousnesses are pulling the controls in the opposite direction?"

"We may never know," Zhora summarised. "From what I've witnessed the ability to overwhelm any sort of opposing consciousness is unstoppable."

The Chief engineer shrugged and didn't bother with further comment. The truth of the matter was that a single person, with the correct command overrides, could, effectively operate Enterprise with the happy assistance of Galatea, automated systems and self-repair systems for a time and, indefinitely, with a few dozen, multi-talented, crew members. That Xurbam might be in the midst of a tug-o-war was something Ash had suggested earlier.

Galatea’s shimmering form glided a few inches closer to the Chief Engineer, her expression softening into a look of genuine professional respect. While she was rooted in data and logic, she had long ago learned that the Chief Engineer’s "theories" frequently contained the most crucial kernels of truth in any given crisis.

"Your assessment regarding the antilepton particle buildup, Ash, was not only astute, it was the key that allowed Commander Bernadotte to isolate the trail," Galatea stated, her voice a calm, melodic counterpoint to the tense atmosphere on the Bridge. "Do not let the silence of others make you doubt the utility of your voice. The fact that Xurbam possesses such power yet remains hampered by his own internal division is a variable we cannot afford to overlook. Rrawran’s hypothesis - that Xurbam is the prison itself, struggling and failing to assert dominance over his inmates - aligns perfectly with your observations on the structural instability of his Warp Field."

She turned her gaze toward the main viewscreen, where the red vector pulsed toward Saltah'na. "If he is indeed the prison, then the dissonance we are tracking is his own agony. If he is losing the war for his own autonomy, he is not just heading to Saltah'na to conquer; he is heading there to force a resolution; perhaps even a final, destructive purge. Ash, your insight into the structural mechanics of his confinement has provided us with a far clearer picture of the enemy than raw sensor data ever could."

Ash looked up at Galatea when the voice of the Commodore broke off whatever she was about to say.

"Targaryen to Bridge," the gruff voice of the Enterprise's Commanding Officer interrupted the discussion.

"Go ahead," Zhora responded.

"We've spoken with the A'shura and have a potential solution to our problem. Ash, please report to Sickbay to assist the Chief Medical Officer with synthesizing a medication that we'll use against the target, once we find him at least."

With a smile, Sora jumped in. "We already have. Well, we managed to trace a flight path and most likely destination. The stolen runabouts are heading towards the Saltah'na system and are expecting to get there within the next ten hours. I reckon if we go at maximum warp, we'd catch up to them before they get there."

"On my way, sir." Ash announced as she logged herself out and headed to the turbo-lift.

"Understood, Bridge. I’ll be in Sickbay to oversee the synthesis. Maintain our current heading, we intercept at Saltah'na. Keep those sensors locked on his trajectory; if the antilepton emissions spike, I want to know immediately. Once we arrive though, we move with surgical precision. Let's get to work, Targaryen out."

Sora nodded in acknowledgement, even though Wilkan would not be able to see. "I can already feel that this is going to be one hell of a long day," she joked with a smirk. "Anyone doing a coffee run?"

The wolf-like alien walked over to the replicator, ordering a coffee and providing it to the Operations Manager. The gravelly, mechanical voice answering, "Enjoy it, and let us not hope it is the last."

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