Title: "Charge of the Virgo Brigade"
Author: First Lieutenant Johnny Chee
Stardate: 2460258
Earthdate: April 3, 2383
Location: Xenon III: En route to Noran

Johnny saw the dust cloud rising on the dirt path, about 500 meters ahead of them. *If the Horde's mounted, we're screwed,* he thought, then suddenly hoped that his particular choice of profanity did *not* get transmitted to his glap'ta!

Most of the Marines had eyesight roughly equivalent to humans, so there wasn't another member of the platoon he could ask to more closely ascertain the situation. Johnny noted with satisfaction as the Starfleet personnel formed up in defensive lines behind his cavalry. Already the archers were finding their range.

"First and second squads, reverse echelon at my point!" Johnny commanded. "First squad to my left, second squad to my right!"  The squads immediately formed up, with Barek to Johnny's left and Zog to Johnny's right. "At the double time, advance!"

The glap'ta lurched forward in their peculiar loping gait. The Horde had closed to 200 meters. Johnny could see through the dust about 10 mounted Horde riders followed by forty Horde foot soldiers.

"Lancers, deploy your weapons!" Johnny had ordered his men to abandon the bronze Borial weaponry in favor of the steel weapons employed by the Horde. As a result, he had six lancers near the center of his formation, which now resembled a huge "V" straddling the road.

Six lances came down parallel to the ground as the Horde closed to within 50 meters.

*Now or never. Changing Woman, watch over us all!* "CHARGE!!!"

Garek and Neklus' archers performed perfectly, sending a flight of arrows into the advancing Horde ranks just before the charge reached the enemy. Arrows ripped into six of the Horde cavalry riders as the first lancers made contact. The foot troops were advancing in the wake of Johnny's cavalry, but their survival was intimately dependent upon how many of the Horde riders the Marines could dismount or kill.

Zog, his diminutive size making inappropriate the use of a hand weapon on any sort of mount, drove his lance deep into the lead Horde rider who, from what Johnny could ascertain from the markings on his armor, was probably the commander. *Last time he'll make that mistake: going in with the troops is one thing; making a spectacle of yourself is another entirely!* Johnny thought. *I'll have to find out from him whether there's a Ferengi Rule of Acquisition which covers wearing a flashy suit in the bad part of town!*

Johnny's reverie was cut short as another Horde lancer made it through to the center of the formation. Johnny drew his sword (the same sword a Horde rider attempted to use on him earlier that morning) and brought it down on the lance, smashing it as he directed his glap'ta, ~Bear right!~

The mount dutifully obeyed, then circled around as the Horde rider attempted to swing at Johnny with what was left of his mount. Though no champion fencer, Johnny parried the blow and punched the Horde rider in the face. The rider fell out of his saddle. *These boys sure do have glass jaws,* Johnny thought.

A loud cry of "Hakka pullalla!" sounded as another of Johnny's Marines sent a Horde rider to its equivalent of ghostland. *That would be PFC Salonnen,* he thought as he glanced over at the burly Finn putting paid to yet another Horde rider with an axe taken from his most recent victim. *If I ever get more than two squads again, he's my next squad leader!*

Off to Johnny's left, Barek Nim, the brevet Bajoran sergeant, was swinging another captured Horde sword as if it were a machete, parrying blows from one rider, then another; the man was poetry in motion!

Johnny rode deep into the enemy formation, waving for Garek and Neklus's infantry to follow him in. Eight of the ten Horde riders were dead or wounded; the Marines had lost only one rider. PFC Horenn had been another of the Bajoran resistance fighters in the unit. *The irony of a woman who had spent most of her adult life standing toe to toe with Cardassians and teaching them a thing or two about knocking heads in getting her own head knocked in by a Horde mace would have been an interesting philosophical discussion,* Johnny thought as he
advanced on a grouping of infantry. *Too bad it's beyond the realm of the abstract now. Prophets, whoever you are, take her home!!!*

Johnny's sword scythed down right and left at Horde infantry attempting to bring him down with their double-ended idej weapons, driving them back but not really harming them. Zog rode by and speared two of them in rapid succession with his lance but had to withdraw as his own mount was wounded. Then, the unthinkable happened: an idej found its way into the heart of Johnny's glap'ta!

*This is the second mount I've lost today!* Johnny thought to himself as he rolled away from the beast to avoid being pinned by its bulk. A Horde footman tried to gut-stab him as he was down but Johnny brought his sword up just in time to skewer the enemy in the rib cage. The footman fell, taking Johnny's sword with him. The sword was firmly wedged in the footman's rib cage, Johnny discovered as he attempted to retrieve it: it would not budge.

Weaponless in a set-piece not being an ideal situation, Johnny looked around desperately for something he could use. Stumbling back to his dead mount (*did I land wrong?* he thought), he found the old bat'leth still strapped to its saddle. *What the hell? It's better than nothing!*

Taking the bat'leth in the traditional Klingon battle stance, Johnny soon discovered why it was such a preferred weapon. Its curves and edges, corroded though they were by the ravages of the elements, the weapon came to life in his hands as he parried and countered the assorted swords, idej, and maces being swung at him. One Horde footman went down, then another, then another...

...then Johnny went down after seeing a bright light flash in front of his eyes.
______________________________________

Johnny woke up immediately thinking he was in ghostland. Hovering over him was a beautiful vision of a woman, unlike any he had ever seen before. The Holy People were visiting him.

"C-c-changing Woman?" he asked, referring to the most powerful and benevolent of the Navajo spirits.

The figure above him laughed softly. "I suppose you could say that, Johnny, but I don't think I'm the Changing Woman you're looking for."

Johnny's vision cleared up. He recognized the woman kneeling over him as the ship's Tanzaran Chief Science Officer, Jenara Tomme. *Changing Woman, indeed! Now there's a way to win points!* he groaned as he returned to his senses and recalled that Tanzarans had shapeshifting ability.

"How did we do? Were there many casualties?"

"We broke the enemy attack. The casualties were fairly low: only about 15 dead, another 20 wounded. Two of your people were lost, unfortunately."

*Shit! That makes five in a day!* "I knew about Private Horenn; who was the other?"

"It was the Ferengi. Zog, I think his name was. They say he died pulling you out of there after you took a mace to the back of your head. He dragged you to me with an idej through his kidney, then collapsed."

*Looks like Salonnen's getting his squad after all,* Johnny thought grimly. "I'd better see to my unit," Johnny said, attempting to get up.

"You'll stay right here, mister, until we can get that head wound attended to!" Jenara ordered, forcing Johnny back down. *This woman has spirit!* he thought groggily. Jenara continued her admonishment. "Your sergeant's got things well in hand and he'll report to you when he can. In the meantime, the captain wanted you to speak with me: something about the Horde's weapons technology?"
 

Title: "Turning the Flank"
Author: Lieutenant JG Richard Wallace
Stardate: 2460258
Earthdate: April 3, 2383
Location: Xenon III: En route to Noran

When Johnny came running up wanting the rest of the crew to join the fight, Richard knew that now the real journey had begun. Richard waited for the captain to give the official word, and he did, so Richard drew his broadsword and turned to the ten tactical officers. He said, "All right move out! Keep your head out there and pay attention." He then ran forward to see 19 Horde coming at the forward line of the Virgo unit.

Richard went for a Horde with a short sword. He swung at the Horde's head and was blocked, but he didn't wait for the Horde's next move. Richard knew to fight hand to hand how to fight dirty. Richard kicked the Horde in the knee, breaking his leg. The Horde fell down and yelled in pain. Richard then brought his sword around and ran the sword through the Horde's side. The Horde jerked in pain, but it didn't bother Richard. He drew the sword out at a 30 degree angle.

Richard went to work on another Horde, stabbing him through the gut. After killing a few more Horde, three to be sure, Richard's old sense of something not being right caused him to pull himself out of the front and take eight fellow Virgos to check the right flank.

Richard and 8 other fellow officers walked or ran 120 yards to the right of the battle line. They were in a lightly wooded area. Richard then heard it. Feet moving fast; his old senses from the battle of AR-558 were active.

He saw 12 Hordes: three with big axes and nine with short swords. Richard saw they were marching in a column formation and decided to take advantage of it. He motioned that one officer get help while the others hide behind the tree.

"Death to the Borials!" they chanted.

The column walked right into the trap.

Richard killed five Horde and disabled one by taking his right shoulder off.
 

Title: "Noran"
Author: Lieutenant Benton
Stardate: 2460260
EarthDate: April 5, 2383
Location: Xenon III: Noran

The Horde had retreated. The casualties were very low, but then again, the Horde had not attacked with much force. The Borials and the Virgos continued their long walk to Noran.

The next morning: at last! There it was, the city of Noran.

The Virgos and their Borial hosts had marched a long way to reach here, and it had cost them. There were several dead among the Virgo crew, most notably among the Starfleet Marines, who had always been at the forefront of the fighting. Many more were wounded. Dr. Nori and the rest of the medical staff had been busy patching them up.

On a much happier note, the ranks of the Virgos had increased by one. Baby T'Lan had elected to join them at this time. It may have been because of his Klingon blood; he was eager to join the fight.

But there was the city on the cliff above them, and it looked every bit as impressive as the Borials had been describing it. No, that wasn't true. It was much *more* impressive! Nothing could have prepared the Virgos for the sight.

True, the jaded Federation people were used to seeing single structures the size of entire cities, of gossamer bridges spanning impossible gulfs, of spires that seemed to scrape the veritable belly of heaven, but nothing could prepare them for the sight of the city of Noran.

Noran wasn't the size of a modern city, and its bridges were plodding behemoths, its spires fell short of heaven, but it was still the most impressive sight they had ever seen.

Perhaps it was because the entire, colossal edifice was made from dark gray stone. Not metal and polymers: just stone. Maybe it was the impossible height of the walls, the perfectly square towers, the crennelated walls, the green and yellow banners that fluttered proudly in the breeze above the battlements a thousand feet above their heads.

The city certainly seemed impregnable. It was situated high on a cliff top. On three of its sides, unscalable rock walls rose from the surrounding terrain five-hundred feet to the base of the city walls, themselves a hundred feet tall. On the fourth side, the cliffs below the city walls plunged straight into the angry sea and the rocks below.

The only access to the citadel was a narrow switchback that wound its way up the southern side of the cliff. The road was barely wide enough for three men to walk comfortable abreast. This way, any enemy would find it all but impossible to storm the gate; there was no room to charge, and any approach could be easily seen and defended against by warriors along the walls.

The Virgos slowly wound their way up the zig-zag path toward the main gate of Noran. The way was quite steep and the going was slow. The men were tired.

As the gates were reached, more detail of the city could be seen. It was ancient! In the extreme! The stone of the walls seemed to be composed of some sort of volcanic rock, obsidian perhaps, but even this element had been worn down by time.

On either side of the gate was an enormous statue of a noble monarch sitting on a throne recessed into the city wall. Their all-seeing gaze seemed to bear down in grim judgment on any who passed beneath them.
It was impossible for the Virgo crew to go through the gates without cowering in terror, or at least cringing in fear.

But at last, they were in Noran!

>From this vantage point, the city was beautiful! The mesa sloped away gradually to reveal the city's residents in all their glory: a shopkeeper hawking his wares, a housewife sweeping off her front porch, a group of soldiers marching to their post.

Eventually, the terrain sloped upward again at the center of the mesa. The city streets gave way to a moat and the walls of the inner Keep, where the Borial central government had its headquarters. The walls of the Keep were even higher that the walls of the City. This would be the Borial's last stand, if events came to that.

The Virgos were still marching through Noran towards the Keep.

As the column passed, local citizens waved handkerchiefs and rags in celebration. They knew their saviors had come.
 

Title: "Teaching to Kill"
Author: Lieutenant JG Richard Wallace
Stardate: 2460260
Earthdate: April 5, 2383
Location: Noran

The Virgos had been in the city for a couple of hours now and were resting. The Virgos had been brought into a part of the city that was isolated from the rest of the citizens. It was possibly the most beautiful part of the city, reserved for royalty and priests: the Keep.

Richard was kneeling by a water fountain that was used to wash up in and to clean laundry. He was looking at his reflection in the water and saw he needed to shave. Richard ran his hands over his face and felt the three days of facial hair. He looked at the reflection and saw that his hands were filthy. He looked at his hands and saw dirt and dried blood and blistered plams. He put his hands in the water and then threw water on his face.

Richard looked up to see a young lady wearing a toga of sorts with a towel and a plate of food. The young lady wasn't older than 20 and had long brown hair and was very pretty. "Here you are, sir." She handed him a towel, and he took it and dried his hands and face.

Richard stood up and looked around the compound and saw that most of the crew was either asleep or just laying down. *Young kids need more exercise these days.*

Richard saw the captain speaking with another officer and saw that the captain motioned him to come over to where he was. Richard walked over and the captain smiled at first.

"Richard, I want to tell you how pleased I was at your performance the other day. You raced in and didn't bother to hesitate to kill. It seems your quite good at it," said Stephen.

Richard liked praise, but being praised on killing wasn't something he liked. "May I speak frankly, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"Sir, I've killed two ways before this day. One was with a phaser, and the other with a my bare hands. It's easier to kill with a phaser because you don't have blood splatter on your hands or your face or weapon. I saw many crewmembers holding back in the fight. Not fighting to their full potential."

"Yes. As my Chief Tactical Officer, what do you suggest, Richard?"

"Have these men and women kill wild game and clean it and fix it for our rations. This is the only way we can acustom people to killing and seeing blood. This way, by the time we fight again they won't be so squeamish."

"Very well then. I'll speak to Neklus about this."
 

Title: "A Matter of Life and Death"
Author: Lt. Commander Dana Nori
Stardate: 2460260
Earthdate: April 5, 2383
Place: Noran

After the big welcome into the city, two young girls around the age of 20 years came unto the female saviors and lead them off to a place where they could bathe and get clean clothing. As much as K'Lara and Nori protested, they didn't stop. They helped in bathing and dressing of all that were there. Once Dana was done with her herbal bath and dressed she looked for Stephen.

Dana said, "This is all now borrowed time. What am I ever going to tell Stephen? Or even how am I going to tell Stephen? It is going to be really hard. He might to be very mad. I guess I can't really blame him for it though. Oh, dear Prophets, please help me through with this. I know I traded my life with you for K'Lara's and her son's. All I ask is that when you take my life it is fast and painless. Please, I mean that is if it is in your best interest for it to be painless. Also I need your strength so that I can tell Stephen what my fate is."

Dana was standing by a huge pillar thinking all of this when a young girl came up behind her.

The young girl, Talorin, said, "Excuse me..."

Dana screamed in a high-pitched voice as she pulled out her dagger and turned to the direction of the voice.

"Please don't hurt me!!! I just brought you something to eat and drink!

Dana felt so bad that she made the girl feel that terror. "I am very sorry; please forgive me. I was in deep thought and didn't hear you come up behind me. You startled me."

Dana wasn't hungry but took the tray anyway, and the girl left. Dana placed the tray on a pedestal and continued to look for Stephen. Finally, success, she came to an area where she saw Stephen talking to the Chief Tactical Officer. She waited until they were finished and the CTO left Stephen's side.

She started over to Stephen, but then stopped in her tracks and just stared at him and his beauty. He saw her movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head in her direction to see who was there. Stephen smiled, "Dana, my beautiful princess." He walked over to Dana. "Happy birthday to you, dear. Now let me think, you are a big 20 years of age now correct?"

Dana just stood there, her eyes swelled up with tears and started to stream down her face.

"Dana, what is it? I was sure that April 5 was your birthday."

"Stephen... I... I... You need to... I mean there is something..." Tears were streaming from her eyes. *Oh god, Dana just tell him about the deal you made with the Prophets.!* "Stephen, you see I gave my..."

Dana couldn't tell him. She didn't want to hurt him. He was all she had in all the universe, and she loved him more than anything. "Oh, Stephen." She put her small hand up to her mouth, turned and ran off.

Stephen ran after her. "Dana!!! Dana, wait!!! Dana, what is it?!" He caught up to her near a fountain in the middle of the Keep, grabbed on to her, and turned her around by the shoulders. "What in the name of all the Prophets is the matter?"

Hearing "Prophets" only made Dana feel worse. Not being able to say a single word, Dana left out a whimper and pushed Stephen away from her. Then, Dana swooned and fell into the fountain.

"What the hell is going on?" Stephen said as he picked her up and took her inside Neklus's palace. "I need help here!"

Kaltanthrop and three other Borials came quickly. They placed Dana on an altar in front of an image of what looked like a bull. Kaltanthrop examined her and checked her pulse. He then stood up and began chanting.

Stephen demanded, "What's wrong?" He got no answer. "Damn it! What the hell is wrong with her?!"

Kaltanthrop looked deep into Stephen's eyes. "She's no longer with us." He continued chanting.

Stephen stepped back. His eyes became red with fire. He had never before known pure, unspeakable hatred for the cosmos until now.

Suddenly, someone yelled, "The Horde are attacking! Full-scaled attack!"

"No. No. No." That was the only thing Stephen could say. Then, the voice of the sentry seeped into him. He stepped out of the palace: death fresh in his mind. Stephen addressed the Virgos. "Defend Noran and kill every single one of those bitches you can get your hands on!" He grabbed an idej and headed out to the front line.