Title: "Plausible Deniability" (Part 6 of 12)
Author: Lieutenant Jenara Chee
Stardate: 2461173
Earthdate: March 4, 2384
Location: USS Virgo

Several hours later, before he was to resume his shift on the bridge, Commander Lataro walked back into sickbay. Dana was just arriving herself. A hot drink in her hand.

"Good morning, Commander," she said quietly, so as not to wake any patients. "Back again already?"

"I just came to check and see how Jenara and the baby were doing."

Dr. Maruu smiled and checked her files as she glanced over to where Jenara slept soundly with her baby's isolet nearby.

"Well, it seems that she slept well for most of the night. Her daughter only woke up once for a feeding."

"Do you mind if I just take a look at the baby again?" Jon asked.

"Not at all, just be careful not to wake them up. Jenara needs as much rest as she can get right now."

He nodded his understanding and quietly walked toward Lt. Chee and her baby. Looking at Jenara, she seemed so peaceful from how she was the night before. As if everything was all right and Johnny was going to return to her any moment. Then he gazed at Jenara's daughter. She was a healthy nine pounds exactly and measured 19 inches long. Her hair was light brown and covered her head. She looked like a cherub with her little chubby face. She was just a little thing, though not as small as T'Lan had been, after all, T'Lan had been premature, but she needed her mother, and she needed a father. His mind churned with thoughts as different possibilities presented themselves. Something was going to have to be done, he felt. He couldn't let things be
the way they were.

Jenara sighed in her sleep, which made Jon turn to gaze at her for a moment, fearing his presence had awakened her. When he noticed it hadn't, he smiled and swiftly left sickbay for his duty shift.
 ________________________________

Benton and Lataro arrived later that afternoon as part of the investigation into the *Limpopo* accident.

"Jenara, as much as we hate to do this, we need to ask some questions as part of the investigation," Benton
told her.  "Have you noticed any changes in Johnny's behavior?  Unusual mood swings, discussion of death or
dissatisfication with life, irrational acts--anything out of the ordinary?"

"No, not at all!  He seemed as happy as he's ever been around me!  I could sense if there were something
wrong with him, but I didn't pick up on anything," she answered.

"Ah, yes--you are telepathic and empathic. Still, though, it is part of procedure, I hope you understand," Benton
replied, trying his best to be sympathetic.

"I understand," Jenara said, sensing Benton's frustration at not quite being able to empathize with humanoid
emotions.  Still, however, the Kelvan was doing better than many humans in this situation.

"Do you know of anyone who may have had held a grudge against Johnny?" Lataro asked, running interference for the somewhat flustered Benton.

"No, not really.  Johnny pretty much keeps to himself  He gets along well with most people, but by and large he
tends to be a loner," Jenara answered, struggling to maintain composure.  *After all this time, nobody really
knew him!*

"I think that will be all for now, Jenara.  There are a few more interviews I need to do, and evidence to examine
from the accident, but if I need anything more from you, I'll be sure to get in touch.  And congratulations once
again!" Benton finished.

Benton left her quarters. She expected Commander Lataro to follow him, but he didn't. She sensed that there was something he wanted to talk to her about. There was something on his mind. Suddenly, her daughter cried.
Immediately, she went to the bassinet that was in the living area and picked her up from the midst of some light blankets. Gently, she held her baby close and the crying stopped.

"What have you named her?" he asked, drawing a little closer to the pair.

"I decided on Adrianna Dyani. Johnny and I picked out several names. There were so many we liked, but Adrianna was at the top of that list," she explained.

"And Dyani?"

"It means deer. I'm not sure from which Native American tribe its from, but I found it in one of the name files I was looking through and thought it was a good middle name. Something to always remember her daddy by."

He nodded. "Jenara, I've been doing a lot of thinking about you and the baby... Especially the baby," he said, "She's going to need a father. And since biologically she is mine... I want to take responsibility."

"You can't! What about K'Lara and T'Lan... If you tell her, I don't know if she'll understand! I don't want you ruining your life over my child. I mean, you don't even remember what happened. Can you have such a connection to
her?"

He looked at her quizzically.

"I know you came to see us this morning in Sickbay," she answered. "Tiadara showed me."

He was stunned.

"I can read minds to a point," she continued, "But only after the damage is done... I can't stop you from telling K'Lara if you feel you must. After all, as you've pointed out, Adrianna is your child as well as mine, but I
just didn't want your life upset over something you had no control over. Something you didn't even remember."

"May I hold her?" he asked.

"Of course," Jenara said, gently placing Adrianna in his arms.

"She's so beautiful."

"Yes, she is," she agreed.

"I want the memories then. I know you can show me what happened."

She shook her head. "You would be ridden with guilt. I can't do it... It was all part of an experiment anyway. None of us could control ourselves..."

"But why should you be the only one to bear the burden?"

"Because I wanted the knowledge," she replied, "It was worth the price to me. I needed to know what happened. I needed to know the truth."

"And what if I said it was worth it to me, as well?" he asked.

Jenara sighed. "Are you sure you can live with the guilt of being unfaithful? Even if it was beyond your control?"

He paused for a moment. He didn't know, but it was something that had happened. Something that had produced this child... His daughter...

"I want the memories."

~Tiadara, if this is too much for him to handle, can I take the memories back?~ she asked her Protector.

~It might be possible to suppress them,~ she answered, ~but it might not be completely effective.~

"All right. But I don't know if I can take them back once you have them. You have to understand that."

"I do," he replied.

Jenara, took the baby from him and gently placed her back in the bassinet. She was quiet, as if she understood something important was going on. Jenara then sat on the couch and motioned for Jon to sit next to her. As he did, she took a deep breath, grabbed one of his hands gently and closed her eyes. She focused on the memories that she had only just begun to come to terms with herself. She allowed all the memories of the abduction to drift from her mind to his. Everything from the dark room they were being held in, to when she had been shocked by the force field and knocked unconscious. To when Benton disappeared and Jon had been attacked by a beam from the ceiling. Then, when he and Jenara were together, alone... after the aliens had probed her mind. They had been flooded with pheromones that created impulses they couldn't stop. They kissed... and more.

Immediately, Jenara broke off the memories. There was nothing else to show him. Her cheeks were flaming red. She still was not totally over the incident. Though she had not been in control of her actions at that time, there was a part of her that was still ashamed of her behavior. As she took a deep breath and looked at Lataro he seemed more as if in a state of shock.

"Outside of that, the aliens took us and wiped our memories of the events, which is why you and Benton, or rather, either Benton didn't remember..."

"And this is what you've been living with since your memory was restored?"

She nodded. Trying to keep her own emotions in check. "I can try to take them back, if you'd like. I don't know if I can... But I can try..."

"No, that's okay... not yet." He got up and walked over to the bassinet and gazed down at Adrianna one more time. She was dressed in a white and pink sleeper and was staring at him as if trying to see him clearly. She was quiet. The only thing on her lips were a few little bubbles from her own mouth. Tenderly, he picked her up.

There were all kinds of emotions flooding his mind. Jenara felt that perhaps doing as he asked had been a mistake. He hadn't needed the memories. And yet, he seemed even more resolved about telling K'Lara.

"You're still going to tell her?" she asked with concern.

He nodded. "Adrianna needs a father, and I am her father."

"Would you do one thing for me first?" She asked.

"What?" he asked, staring into her green eyes.

"Please, just take a few days to think about it. Please. Don't do anything impulsively. Make sure this is what you want. No matter what, the baby and I will be fine. And you'll always be welcome to come visit either as father
or uncle no matter what. But I want you to think about all the ramifications this can have for you and your family. Would you do that for me?"

He took another look at the baby and then back to Jenara. "All right, I will," he said. "I suppose I should get back to work." Tenderly, he handed the baby back to Jenara and touched her shoulder. "Thank you for the truth;
no matter how difficult it is for either of us."

Jenara gave him an understanding smile and watched as he walked from her quarters.
 ________________________________

It had been a couple of hours since her talk with Benton and Jon. After Adrianna had drifted back to sleep, Jenara had spent the time going through all the things she had acquired from her time together with Johnny. There were photos of them together. The family on Earth that had adopted her had taught her how valuable these type of mementos were. She gazed at photos from her birthday party and of their wedding day. She then accessed her journal and went through many of the entries dealing with her feelings about Johnny. And her heart ached for him even more. "Look for the bear," she whispered, as if the message had suddenly just come back to her.

"Computer, find anything about bears as it relates to the Navajo Indian Tribe from Earth."

<According to the Navajo beliefs Bears were bad omens or spirits, often associated with disease and death. They were feared.>

She sat back and sighed, then looked to her journal again. *Maybe there was something there,* she thought. If she kept a journal, maybe he did too.

"Computer, does Major Chee have a personal log?"

"Affirmative."

"Access it."

"Access code."

She sighed with exhaustion and just stared off. There were a thousand things she didn't know about him. How could she just guess her way through? She was not in the mood to hack into it. Then, she realized something. Maybe his message had a double meaning. Maybe the bear wasn't just meant to represent an individual. Maybe that was the code.

"Bear."

"Access Denied."

"Computer, what is the Navajo word for Bear?"

"Shash."

"All right, computer, try Shash as the password."

"Access granted."

Suddenly, Johnny's face appeared on the screen and her heart stopped. It was as if he were right there before her. Only, she could tell this was shortly after he arrived on board. He wasn't a Major yet. It hurt her to see him,
but she wanted to hear his voice and if there was any chance that she was going to get to the bottom of this, she was going to do it.

"Computer, replay journal from beginning."

Instantly the image of Johnny began to move and talk. She sat there, watching and listening. Know that these were his personal thoughts. If he were still alive it was something she wouldn't have done. But now things
had changed. Forever, she would keep this close to her heart as a reminder of who he was.

[I've decided to keep a personal journal of my experiences on the *Virgo.* Given the black marks on my record prior to my commissioning, I never thought I'd make it aboard a deep-exploration vessel. I can only be grateful
for the opportunity this presents and cherish every moment. Today, I was introduced to the senior staff, of whom I am now a member. Again, a novel experience for me.

One officer in particular stands out. Lieutenant Tomme, Chief Science Officer. Something about her rests well with me: I'm not quite sure what it is, but I wouldn't want to risk anything exploring it. I sense my position here is tenuous as it is. I'm the lowest-ranking of the senior officers on a vessel which is not primarily a combat vessel. Marines have never been completely welcome in Starfleet, and I don't want to wear out my welcome here... Not that I really could; what could they do, hand me back to the Kelvans? Nonetheless, anything I wish to pursue with Ms. Tomme or any female officer aboard this ship must be dealt with carefully.]

Tears misted her eyes. In the beginning, she had never thought much about Johnny when they had first been introduced. She had been so wrapped up in her own dilemma about the baby. But she did remember giving him a second glance. She was just too confused with her own issues to bring someone else into them. Someone who might not want the issues she had to bring with her. Before lingering too long on this entry, she had the computer forward to the next entry and then the next. Then another entry caught her attention. It was only a few weeks after the first.

[The platoon is shaping up nicely, although equipment requisitions tend to be a nightmare. We still had some gear we brought over from the *Ilion* but most of it got trashed in the fight with the Kelvans. I've been able to
forge some "informal" working relationships with certain officers, particularly Benton and Garek. The experience aboard the *Ilion* soured me on Kelvans, I'm afraid, but Benton seems like a decent sort. Very much a professional. I hit it off immediately with Garek, which surprises me, given my previous experiences with Betazoids. Then again, I only want equipment from Garek!!! As Chief Engineer he's able to get just about anything he needs; the quartermaster is probably wondering what Engineering is doing with crew-served weapons, but the exercise is good for his brain!

[And then there's Jenara. At least privately I've come to refer to her by her first name. I'm having to keep a careful hold on my thoughts because my research informs me that Tanzarans are powerful telepaths, and after that unfortunate experience with that Betazoid bartender back at Nueva Tijuana, I'd rather not let my thoughts get too loose! Fortunately on that count, our specialties couldn't be more opposite if we tried. She's responsible for seeking out the unknown and learning from it. I'm responsible for seeking out the unknown and killing it. Who'd have thought I'd have it bad for a scientist?! Every staff meeting I keep focusing on her, almost to the
point I forget what we're talking about. That's been embarrassing more than once.]

A slight laugh escaped her as she listened. She'd caught a stray thought here and there, but had never picked up anything stronger then. Her own emotions had a lot to do with that. But to see how much he had been attracted to her to begin with just made her miss him even more. *He was always a gentleman,* she thought.

The next entry to grab her attention was after the Xenon III campaign. That was a turning point for their contact with one another. Even if it had started slowly.

[I've had so much work I haven't been able to keep up this journal! Unfortunately, not all of that work has been pleasant. Lots of letters home explaining to parents that their kids won't be coming home. I'm going to need the full nine-day sing when I get back. At least most of the transfers Captain Maruu let me take on are working out, and Barek is working out well as platoon sergeant. Why this guy wasn't a DI back on Mars I've got no idea!
But that doesn't make up for those who've fallen in that senseless war. I've seen the ghostland, and it has seen me. But sometimes I've learned that the ghosts don't always bring bad news. It took the ghost of my top sergeant and a damn Cardassian prison guard to tell me what my heart's been telling me all this time! She seems to be reciprocating, even initiating, but I don't know quite where I stand just yet. Somehow she seems to be hiding something, and I can't quite put my finger on it. A husband or lover at home? It's been known to happen on these long deployments. If so, I wish she'd be honest. The *last* thing I want to do is cuckold some poor guy back home!!]

*There was so much we hadn't said to each other yet,* she mused. She could see how he might have thought that. The next entry to get her attention was one that took place shortly after the salvage mission to the *Kirk,* and something about it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Maybe it was how Johnny appeared, or maybe it was the inflections in his voice, but something was definitely wrong. She listened  carefully.

[Now I understand why Lataro's nose was so bent out of joint! Something's definitely going on around here that isn't right. If the XO doesn't know about the deployment of an entire damn Marine platoon from the ship until it actually happens somebody is trying to hide something. My bet is on Lt. Sinclair, the Intel Officer. I don't think she likes me very much at any rate, but this is exactly the sort of thing Intel would cook up! I need to keep an eye on her and start keeping better notes on what's going on. I can't afford to let anyone else know about this. I can only hope to Changing Woman that Jenara hasn't picked up any of this. I've been spending more time
with her lately, and I know my thoughts are leaking! Just before that god awful shore leave I caught Private Maxon reading my thoughts; what is it about Betazoids? Nonetheless, I'm keeping this journal secure as I can. If we make it back to Earth, a tribunal will want to see this!]

Jenara sat back and looked at the image of Johnny and all the readings he had taking. He had included them as a file with his entry. There was all kinds of data there that proved that the salvage mission had actually been
an illegal action. She couldn't believe she hadn't picked that up from him with all the time they had spent with each other. This was certainly something he had intended her to find in the event of his passing, but somehow he had hidden it from her while they were together. And he did it to protect her. Tears sprang to her eyes. She still couldn't believe he was gone. It didn't seem possible. But now she had an idea who was behind this.

"Computer, access Johnny Chee's meetings log and list the meetings for the day before his death."

The computer ran down a couple of names that she didn't recognize, but then Sinclair's name came up.

"What would she want with Johnny?" she thought out loud.

<Cannot comply. Insufficient data.>

"Computer, continue playing entries," she said as the wheels in her head kept turning.

After several more, another grabbed her attention.

[If I didn't know then, I know now! Perhaps I don't really need a helmet after all: my head seems thick enough! Not only do I love her, I need her! And she needs me. What happened to her is further proof that while other
civilizations may be advanced that doesn't necessarily mean they're ethical. As if what happened to my people wasn't proof of that even within human civilization! We need each other both in the sense that a man needs a
woman and a conspirator needs a confederate; if what's going on aboard this ship is what I think it is, we could be in a lot of trouble very shortly. The captain is not acting his usual self; I've heard this from any number of
people in the lounge and in the corridors. It seemed to have happened after Xenon III. Either that campaign did something to him or *something* there did something to him. The other senior staff, the Lataros, Benton, Wallace, they're picking up on it, but I don't know, and I don't dare ask publicly. I'd better start running the drills harder. This could get worse before it gets any better, and outside of Jenara and the troops I brought with me I honestly don't know who to trust!]

Suddenly, a memory flashed in her mind. Commander Lataro asking her to do a voice analysis. It had been Johnny's voice and the Captain's voice. But why would they have wanted his voice verified? For the life of her, she couldn't remember what was being said. After all, it wasn't her job to listen to the words. It was her job to analyze the voices and make sure they weren't forged. But then, maybe that was the key. She had verified that it was indeed the Captain. They must have been concerned of it being forged, but why?

There was one more entry that caught her attention. It was just after her birthday. Jenara watched it intently.

[I thought she knew!!! Maybe she wasn't reading as much of my mind as I thought! I had every intention of taking care of her, and the baby once she told me what happened. But it is true; women need to *hear* these things, and hear them publicly. That settles it: as soon as I can, but before the baby is born, we're getting married. I don't care what it takes, it's going to happen! Seeing how Benton and Lataro reacted, though, was heartening. I know them now to be men of integrity, and men I can trust. Kalmar's one of the good guys, too. I had my doubts about him, but if we're going to make it through what may be coming up, he's going to be critical. There are enough Bajorans aboard this ship to make the word of a Prophet carry more than a little weight. I wonder if he knows anything and is just watching us to see how we handle it. The spirits do love their practical jokes!"

With that, she broke down in sobs. *I knew... I just needed to know who the father of the baby was. And I needed to hear it from you. Oh, how I miss you!* For several minutes, she had no control of herself. Tears just
flowed unabated. Suddenly, Adrianna stirred. No doubt she had picked up on her mother's distress.

Quickly, Jenara got a hold of herself and went to her baby, picking her up and holding her close. "Everything's just fine, angel. Momma loves you. Momma's here."

As Adrianna quieted back down, with her customary bubbles on her lips, Jenara knew she had to do something about what she had found. *This went beyond Section 31,* she thought. Maybe even to the Captain. She had to talk to someone.

Tapping her com badge, she said, "Lt. Chee to Commander Lataro."

[Lataro here,] came the quick response.

"When you have a free moment, would you come by. I have a few questions I need to ask."

[I'll be there after my shift.]

"Acknowledged."

With that taken care of, she continued to hold Adrianna, though her mind would not quiet down.
 

Title: "Plausible Deniability" (Part 7 of 12)
Author: Major Johnny Chee
Stardate: 2461175
Earthdate: March 5, 2384
Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee, SFMC: Day 3. My experiences here on Portanus V might prove of interest should anyone from Starfleet ever pass this way again. And, in the event I am rescued, this journal may prove critical in explaining what happened and why I've done some of the things I've done. Certainly it will be a valuable piece of evidence in my court-martial.

"As far as I know, I arrived here at least three local days ago. From the information Lt. Sinclair provided, a local day is about 20 hours. Fortunately, I was able to memorize a lot of the data she supplied me. The only Federation resources, aside from the implanted Universal Translator and a broad-spectrum antibiotic of now dubious efficacy, I have at my disposal are what I picked up at the Academy and subsequent experience.

"The Portanans are extremely intelligent, possibly more so than Humans or even Vulcans, and have superior visual acuity and hand-eye coordination. They are smaller than Humans, and not as strong due to the lower gravity of their world. My size and strength relative to them has already proven advantageous. Because of this, a move I made three days ago for which I should by all rights be dead has drawn the attention of one Vinzi, who purports to be a wizard. In fact, the Wizard of Flor, the city I'm calling home for the duration.

"He seems to be a decent sort. His people have undying loyalty to him and he's expressed a desire not only to abolish slavery on this world but to institute reforms and return Portanus, which the locals call simply "the
world," to the prosperity of a previous Glorious Age. I haven't learned too much about that yet. I'm still learning to read the local language from Zdeev, a fellow former slave who was bought, along with his wife Taya and child Tri, along with me by Vinzi. It turns out he was the town clerk of a town that Flor just conquered about three local weeks ago. In addition to literacy, he also knows quite a bit about the laws and traditions of this world. I must make it a point to learn as much as I can from him."
 _________________________________

"Very good!" Zdeev told Johnny. "Not many beginners can read a text like the *Precepts of Sexton Larii* so soon! Many of our best scholars struggle with this most holy of books! The Wizard will be pleased!" The two were in Vinzi's personal library of nearly 800 books. Johnny had known many people on Earth and elsewhere whose personal collections exceeded that by several orders of magnitude, but apparently on Portanus this was the largest single collection of printed work. The books themselves, though, were works of art. The printing was absolutely perfect and the bindings (across the top of the page like an old-style stenographer's pad), though worn, could have been done by a machine. The covers were made of a wood derivative or animal
skins, and in a couple of very old cases a synthetic material resembling vinyl.

Johnny didn't have the heart to tell Zdeev that he had the Universal Translator helping him every step of the way as he sounded out the words. Or that his language skills, polished by a lifetime of speaking one of the
most difficult of Human languages, had won him awards at Starfleet Academy. In addition to Navajo, Spanish, and English, Johnny also was literate in Ferengi, had a working knowledge of Bajoran and Cardassian, and was attempting to learn the T'rais language before being abandoned on Portanus V. *So this will make eight languages I can swear in!* he thought.

The *Precepts* were not so much a book of morality, as the title implied, but a historical chronicle detailing how the Glorious Age had come to an end. Much of it was cloaked in local religious symbolism, but certain details were all too vivid to Johnny. A wall of fire consuming the cities and all the works of mortals. A perfectly round hole leading to the underworld after the fire had passed. Eight days after the hole had appeared, demons known as Ghann set up residence in Topan Valley, south of the hole. The Ghann were fearsome warriors who quickly defeated the local defenses, and had terrorized Portanus V for the past thousand years. According to Sexton Larii, only a restoration of the Glorious Age would drive away the demon Ghann. The Wizard, an  adherent to Larii's teachings, had been working toward that end.

Other Sextons, however, had said that the Glorious Age was what had brought the Ghann to begin with. In their view, mortals had begun to tamper with things they had no business even thinking about. Very little elaboration
on that point could be found, although Johnny gathered that the Baron was an adherent of these particular Sextons.

*Terrific,* Johnny thought. *I'm caught in the middle of a holy war on top of everything else!* Johnny recognized everything that had happened in Larii's account, which was written 540 years after the Day of the Demons.
Someone had apparently decided to invade Portanus V, detonating a weapon of some sort (from the description, Johnny immediately thought of a fusion bomb or a photon torpedo) which destroyed most of the infrastructure on the planet's sole continent. Shock troops followed the invasion and defeated the local troops but were so badly hurt themselves they fell back to an enclave that they occupied to this day. But the Portanans hadn't seen it that way in over a millennium.

Johnny had a stroke of inspiration: "Zdeev, are there any writings about the Ghann? Who they are, what they look like?"

Zdeev looked horrified. "Never, never, never ask anything like that! Even to mention their name is a vile curse!" The clerk then ran from the small library where they had been studying.

*So much for that idea!* Johnny thought.

Moments later Zdeev returned with Vinzi immediately behind him. "Zdeev tells me you wish to learn the secrets of demons," Vinzi said. "Do not tread on that path. I will advise you no further," he finished, then the two left.

They left Johnny alone, in the library. Johnny had no duties other than as Vinzi's bodyguard, and since Vinzi planned on staying on his own property today Johnny could use the time as he wished. He perused the library more thoroughly. One very old vinyl-covered volume intrigued him. The title was still difficult for him, but it seemed to be some kind of recognition manual. Johnny had read hundreds of these over the years, though
admittedly they were all in the form of PADDs or other computer displays.

He flipped through the book. The date on the inside indicated it was written about a year after the Onslaught; the book was nearly a thousand years old! The print was of very high-quality and had deteriorated very little over the years, and the pages had a slick feel to them. *At one point the Portanans had phototypesetting,* Johnny thought.

Most of the writing was technical and military jargon that was still nearly incomprehensible to Johnny. He could sound it out and get an immediate translation from his Universal Translator, but that would break down whenever he hit an acronym or an idiomatic usage. Now I know how Jenara feels when I take work home!

The pictures needed no translation. Johnny found illustrations of most of the hardware he'd encountered in the field in the past year. And, on a series of pages, photos of an autopsy along with medical jargon to add to
the military and technical jargon. The autopsy was of an entity very familiar to Johnny.

"Demons, my ass! These people were invaded by the T'rais!"
 _________________________________

Location: USS Virgo

"Sergeant, you've known the Major longer than anyone else here. Can you think of anything that would have caused him to do anything suicidal or irrational?" Benton asked Staff Sergeant Barek Nim, who had just learned
of what happened to Johnny. The two were in Johnny's office.

"No, Commander. I'm no great expert on Human psychology, but I can tell you that he'd never been happier in the time that I've known him. Suicide would have been out of character for him unless there were something more involved. He'd willingly sacrifice himself for another, and it looks like that's what he did here. But if anything were bothering him the Major would not have done anything drastic," the old Bajoran replied, inwardly holding
back grief such as he had not known in many, many years. "He was like a son to me: the closest thing I'll ever know to one, at any rate. I do know he's had problems in terms of practicing his faith, apparently his religion
depends upon the specific geographical location on Earth Major Chee knew as home, but as long as I've known him he's always managed to come to an accommodation. Holodeck programs and so forth. In any case, Johnny believed that suicide would consign one's soul to forever being trapped as a ghost, so I doubt he would have willingly killed himself."

"Interesting," Benton noted. *I'll have to explore this aspect further.* 7"Do you know of anyone who may have borne any ill feelings toward Major Chee? Any grudges, rivalries, things of that nature?"

"There was a young private, Ivan Zelansky, who had been giving us trouble. I believe his name has come to your attention more than once," Barek answered. Benton nodded upon mention of the name. "But of late he's been one of the best Marines we have. Johnny even assigned him as platoon corpsman and arranged for medtech training for him. If anything, Zelansky owes his commanding officer a great deal."

As if bidden by some unknown power, a com signal came through on Barek's com badge. [Zelansky to Sergeant Barek, we need you on the quarterdeck immediately!]

"On my way," Barek replied. Benton accompanied the sergeant to the Marine enclave.

Awaiting them were Zelansky and Zeg, a Ferengi who had joined the unit after being rescued from the Eriarti six months earlier. Zeg was holding a tricorder, and both of them were standing about four meters from the bulkhead separating *Virgo's* Marines from the vacuum of space.

"What's going on?" Barek asked.

"Sergeant, Private Zelansky was showing me the proper use of a combat tricorder when we detected the signature of an antipersonnel mine behind this panel," the Ferengi replied, pointing at the bulkhead.

"Let me see." Zeg handed Barek the tricorder. Barek looked at the readings, then handed the tricorder to Benton.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"I'm afraid so, Sergeant," Benton answered. "Everyone, come with me. I'm sealing this compartment."

As soon as the four left the compartment Benton issued a command. "Computer, place this compartment under Security seal. Authorization Benton omega-three-four. Admit only myself or Commander Lataro. Raise a Level Six force field around this compartment."

<Acknowledged.>

"Sergeant, round up your troops and have them report to the Security office. Let them know what's happened. I'll meet you there shortly," Benton ordered.

"Aye, sir." Barek tapped his com badge. "Barek to all Marines: assemble at the Security office per Commander Benton's orders ASAP!" he ordered before heading there himself, Zelansky and Zeg in tow.

Benton's crisp Kelvan mind wasted no time in deducing the meaning of this. With the tricorder in hand, he scanned Johnny's office. Sure enough, another mine: this time behind the unit colors which were hanging on the bulkhead behind Johnny's desk. Benton left the office. "Computer, seal this compartment, same specifications as before, authorization Benton omega-three-four."

<Acknowledged.>

Immediately he started running toward Jenara and Johnny's quarters.
 _________________________________

Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee, SFMC: Day 96. After weeks of effort, I'm now almost completely literate in the Portanan language. I've also managed to convince Vinzi of what's really happened to his world. As soon
as I told him what I'd learned from his library, he became immediately concerned and did more reading on his own. Now he's determined to follow the counsel of the Sextons who have advised rebuilding and taking on the
T'rais on an equal footing, or as near as possible.

"Unfortunately, we must get past Baron Kelto first. His spiritual advisors counsel accommodation of the invaders and keeping the Portanan tech level as minimal as possible. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Kelto's advisors, if
not Kelto himself, are on the T'rais payroll. That sounds like something the master would tell the servant, at any rate.

"Baron Kelto is the senior member of the ruling family of Flor, the largest city, in fact, the only place that could truly be called a city, with around 100,000 inhabitants, on Portanus V. However, many of the lesser nobles
have broken with him, either siding with the Wizard or forming their own factions. Vinzi is the only serious opposition to Kelto's rule, and has the support of most of the people. However, Kelto controls the army and many of the guilds.

"Given enough people, I could train an army that could eat Kelto's army, which is little more than a mob of undisciplined thugs, for breakfast in a matter of weeks. But that won't help us against the T'rais, who may be
supporting him. We'll need better technology than we've got now to do this. So Vinzi's working on the guilds. We've got the Blacksmith's Guild on our side after I showed them how to build a Bessemer furnace. Only it's not
called a Bessemer furnace here: it's called a Platzi furnace, after the guy who invented it locally about 1500 years ago. I had to look that one up to keep them from calling it "Johnny's furnace"!!! Platzi's design wasn't bad, but I've added a few extra things to it like scrubbers to keep the air from getting too polluted. A member of the guild came up with sand-casting the next day, so they learn quickly!!! The Alchemist's' Guild is next, although
their chemistry is extremely sophisticated for their tech level; the Periodic Table and atomic theory have survived, although their understanding of atoms is limited to the three basic subatomic particles, which is fine
and good.

"Because of their prior contact with a warp-capable civilization, the Portanans aren't, in fact, subject to the Prime Directive, so what I'm doing is legal. However, I don't want these people advancing ahead of their own ethics. Nuclear weapons are obviously well beyond their capabilities (apparently gunpowder was only developed again within the past 300 local years), but biological weapons are extremely easy to develop. The Portanans
have, in fact, redeveloped antibiotics (which was of enormous relief to me when I cut my hand on Day 52 of my little sojourn here), so I know they've got the capacity to do so. Showing them how to make a bug that would wipe out every T'rais on the planet, though, would be tantamount to giving a fully-charged phaser to an infant.

"Speaking of which, I have been thinking often of Jenara and the baby. Of everyone on the *Virgo,* who by now have probably given me up for dead long ago, but most particularly of my wife and daughter. How are they faring now? I miss them so much. I may as well start a new life here but don't think I can, as long as there's some hope I'll be coming home. I hope she hasn't given up on me."
 _________________________________

"Amazing!" Vinzi exclaimed. "It's not that much different from the rifles we've been using, but the accuracy and the reload rate will be devastating!" he gushed, looking over a prototype of the latest design Johnny had
submitted to the Blacksmith's Guild for production. "What did you call it again?"

"It's a bolt-action rifle," Johnny explained. "This handle here is the bolt. Moving it up and back, like this..." Johnny said as he demonstrated "...will eject the spent casing and simultaneously inject a new round into the firing
chamber. Grooves called riflings in the barrel cause the bullet to spin, thus allowing it to travel a straighter trajectory over a longer distance. A trained soldier should be able to fire as many as ten aimed shots in one
minute with this model, versus the three your musketeers could do on their best days. The brass cartridges are expensive but they do allow greater operational freedom. You won't have to worry as much about wet  gunpowder or fowled rounds. It will still accept your standard bayonets and caliber, so that should hold down production costs." The rifle Johnny held was amazingly well-designed for having been machined by people who still called themselves "blacksmiths" and relied upon their (admittedly superior) eyesight to measure things like roundness and interference fit. The efficiency of the basic design, that of a Mauser Gewahr 98k from Earth's Second World War, one Johnny had studied greatly at the Academy, helped tremendously, but without the Portanans' seeming genius at manufacturing and craftsmanship, the design may well have just stayed on paper. The irony is this: a design the Nazis intended to use to subjugate "lesser" races is now being used to liberate a so-called "lesser race"!!!

"Very good. But as I understand warfare, these rifles alone won't be enough to ensure superiority. Don't we need heavier weapons? Cannons, siege engines, and so forth?"

"Those are already being built," Johnny reported. In fact, that was the case. The first of Portanus's Gatling guns were due off the assembly line, another piece of knowledge the Portanans had somehow retained, the next
day, with rifle grenades, mortar launchers and bazookas due by the end of the week. Negotiations with the Alchemist's Guild about dry-cell batteries, however, threatened to stall the development of the latter two items,
which depended upon a battery for firing. The flame-thrower Johnny had in mind would have to wait until a reliable fuel source could be obtained, either naturally or from the Alchemists.

"How soon can I get troops to train on this stuff?" Johnny asked. "I mean, the rifles will probably be decisive against Kelto's men, but if it's just going to be you, me, and Zdeev this fight's going to be over with rather
quickly."

"How many do you need? And what sort of men?"

*Let's see... Give me Barek, Lataro, and Benton and I could have this planet cleared out by tomorrow! But they're nowhere to be found, so who do you have?* Johnny thought. "For starters, I could use about 128," Johnny said, stopping himself before saying "two hundred" after remembering that the Portanans used base-eight mathematics. "If I can get people, they don't have to be men exclusively, but they do have to be adults, who've already been trained as soldiers or police or bodyguards that would be extremely helpful."

"Most of the trained warriors are on Kelto's side, but occasionally some are captured when we overtake a town. I'll have to go down to the slave pits and see what I can find," Vinzi answered.

I can't believe the support I'm getting from the Wizard! But all of this is coming out of his pocket. I'd better find a way for him to start bringing in some cash before I bankrupt him and he decides none of this is worth the bother.
 _________________________________

Location: USS Virgo

Benton arrived at Johnny and Jenara's quarters. Lataro had not yet left.

"Commander, Lieutenant, I need you to vacate these quarters now!" he told them.

"What's going on?" Jon asked.

"I'll let you know in a minute. It's imperative that you leave now, however!" Benton insisted.

The two left. "Computer, place a Security seal on this compartment, same specifications as previously given. Authorization Benton omega-three-four," Benton ordered. The compartment was sealed mechanically and with a force field.

"If you would accompany me to my office, I'll explain what's happening."

Minutes later, in the Security office, Benton explained what was happening.

"This morning two Marines discovered an active antipersonnel mine in their quarters. Using their tricorder readings, I identified an identical mine in Major Chee's office. I can only surmise that another mine was placed in your quarters as well," he told Jenara. "Not knowing what the triggering mechanism is, I felt it prudent to place the affected compartments under Security seal until the mines can be disarmed or the perpetrator apprehended."

Jenara looked stunned. "Good God! Who would do something like that?" Lataro exclaimed.

"There are only four people on board this ship with unrestricted access to all three areas, aside from Johnny and Jenara. I am one of them; you are the other," Benton explained. "The others are the Captain, of course, and Dr. Maruu. Additionally, aside from Johnny only the Captain or the two of us can authorize the replication of antipersonnel mines," he told Lataro. "I find it unlikely in the extreme that Johnny orchestrated any of this. While his prior service record indicates some miscreant tendencies, unprovoked homicide is not in his psychological makeup."

"How can you talk like this?" Jenara exclaimed. "You make him sound like some impersonal face. You knew this man!"

"So I did, ma'am; my apologies. I am trying to analyze this strictly from a law enforcement perspective. It is difficult for me to keep my personal feelings from this investigation as well," Benton told her.

"What all this means is that the incident involving the *Limpopo* must be viewed in an entirely different light. Even the most severe accident involving the shuttle's system would have given either Johnny or Bortu time
to send a distress call. And according to Ensign Bortu the shuttle was under attack by the T'rais, although I don't see how that could be connected to these mines," he continued.

"I think I do, Benton," Jenara told him. She accessed Johnny's personal log. The entry regarding the *Kirk* salvage mission played for the others to see: along with Johnny's analysis.

"I remember that mission!" Lataro exclaimed. "I told him not to pursue the matter further lest he attract unwanted attention. I had a conversation with the Captain later about this mission. He informed me that Section 31 is
operating aboard the *Virgo.*"

The three suddenly stopped and stared at one another.

"That explains a lot," Jenara said. "Either he got too close to them, or they've recruited him for a black operation. I've worked with Section 31 before; they'll stop at nothing to get what they want!"

"And that would include blackmail, mining the quarters of people close to him in order to ensure his cooperation!" Lataro added.

"So the scenario is this: Johnny was approached by an agent or agents of Section 31 with regard to a secret mission. For some reason Johnny refused them, and then was blackmailed by Section 31 into cooperating. Jenara, do Johnny's personal log entries indicate anything that could shed light on this?" Benton asked.

"As a matter of fact, they do. I read several of the entries last night," Jenara answered, almost losing but quickly regaining her composure. "He had a very deep and abiding suspicion of Lieutenant Sinclair and mentioned
more than once that the suspicion seemed to be mutual. In addition, his meetings log showed that he met with her the day before... before he left."

"The flight duty log indicates that five qualified pilots who were ahead of Johnny on the rotation were suddenly pulled for medical reasons," Lataro added. "I think Johnny was set up."

Suddenly, Lieutenant Sitto entered the room, Ensign Bortu with him. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but Ensign Bortu had something he wished to add to his statement."

"Yes, please come in, Ensign. You too, Sitto. We'll need you in on this as well," Benton said.

Bortu explained about the tactical programming aboard the *Limpopo*: that it had been compromised and that the T'rais had worked out countermeasures to the *Virgo's* entire tactical and countermeasures suite.

Lataro was shocked. "That information can only be released upon authorization of the Captain! We are in deep trouble here! If the main T'rais fleet has this information, the *Virgo* is helpless!"

"After the *Kirk* mission I was asked to perform voice analyses on Johnny and the Captain. We should assume that either Captain Maruu has been compromised or someone has figured out how to perfectly impersonate his
voice and hack into secure files only he would have access to. I've never sensed any duplicity from the Captain. We can only assume the second option. Given Section 31's involvement I'm afraid that may be more than likely," Jenara concluded.

"People, we've got a major crisis on our hands. Benton, you're ordered to place the Captain and Lieutenant Sinclair under surveillance. I will transmit a formal written order to you to that effect at the conclusion of this meeting. We cannot make a move until we have concrete evidence against them," Lataro ordered. "All we have is circumstantial evidence, although it is pretty damning, and a possible motive. I'm also ordering Johnny's
platoon assigned to Security for the time being. That should give you plenty of personnel with whom to handle this situation. Mr. Bortu, I'm assigning you as my aide-de-camp for now. You're our only material witness and I don't want you out of my sight!

"Jenara, you and the baby will stay with my family," Lataro continued. "While you're with us I want you and K'Lara to work on how these countermeasures were hacked, and devise new ones. This should have your
top priority!"

"Sir, I don't think the Major is dead," Benton offered. "When I questioned Ensign Bortu, he passed along a message that was apparently intended for Jenara but had a double meaning." He explained his work in astrogation.

"Portanus. That's close to our present course. We may end up with a rescue mission on our hands, and the charges may end up attempted murder rather than murder," Lataro answered. "I will keep the *Dawn* on standby. As soon as we can, we're headed there!"

"It had better be quickly," another voice said. Everyone turned. Kalmar had materialized within the room quite unnoticed. "You are correct, Benton. Johnny is alive and more or less well on Portanus V. But time is passing
much more quickly for him than in this time stream. For you, Johnny's only been gone for a day. But to Johnny, six months have passed. Be warned, however, powers far beyond your comprehension are at work here. I will do what I can to forestall them, but you must deal with the merely mortal aspects of this conspiracy on your own."

*At least we've got a little more firepower on our side than we thought,* Lataro thought. "All right, we know what we're up against. Let's try and get this resolved before Johnny ends up dead of old age!"
 _________________________________

Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee, SFMC: Day 174. The Wizard was able to locate 192 recruits for me: the Korath, nomadic tribesmen whose traditions and skills predate even the Day of the Demons. They generally
aren't allowed in Flor except as slaves, although the smaller towns that cannot afford large forces of their own hire them for security against the T'rais, or the Ghann, as they're known locally. They are a proud people who
remind me much of my own people before they were subjugated and forced onto reservations five centuries ago.

"Much to the Wizard's and my misgivings, the Korath can only be maintained in the city as slaves. But this does not diminish their status as warriors or their abilities. They have mastered the new weapons I've introduced
rather quickly, and most are now at least literate in the rebus code used by the uneducated townsmen.

"Baron Kelto has not been inactive, of course. He's been recruiting troops right and left, and although our control over the Blacksmith's Guild, and, as of Day 100, the Alchemist's Guild, should restrict his ability to arm them, somehow he's able to get his hands on weapons in quantities that make our own capacity look distressingly pathetic. In the past month, there have been five assassination attempts against the Wizard. Fortunately the
Korath or I have been able to defeat all of the more blatant ones. That only leaves the more subtle ones.

"I've finally hit upon a way to fill the Wizard's coffers again! It dawned on me that while the Portanans are very fine craftsmen and skilled workers, they have very little to do aside from their work. Occasionally, street performers or traveling theater companies will show up in Flor from time to time, and nobles like Kelto keep court jesters and musicians, but the common people by and large live a life of drudgery. What this place needs is a
little clean, harmless fun, and I've found a simple way to provide that to them. In cooperation with the Carpenter's Guild, whom we've recently brought onto our side, I've arranged for the production of all manner of board and
dice games: Yahtzee, checkers, chess, Parcheesi, Domjat, and simplified versions of Dabo and klin'zha. I even managed to come up with a variant of Chutes and Ladders for the younger set! The games are selling like mad, costing us around a sixty-fourth of a paregi to produce and sold at around a fortieth of a paregi. Well within the reach of even the poorest families, but still quite enough to make us a tidy profit. Others are trying to
produce these games, but only those sold by the Wizard are trusted to have fair dice and round marbles! Since pieces are always getting lost, there's plenty of replacement potential as well. In my spare time (such as it is,
between guarding the Wizard, training the troops, working on these projects, and keeping this journal), I'm working on a hand-carved marionette. Not only will it be yet another marketable item, it will provide valuable
prototypes for the replacement arms and legs we're inevitably going to have to start making once we go up against the T'rais.

"I've been able to bring a little bit of light into the lives of these people, and once we have control of the city we can work on things like public sanitation and mass literacy. My activities are driving the more conservative sextons nuts, but a little dissent is good for any belief system. Still, though, my thoughts keep turning to my old friends on the *Virgo.* I wonder if they still think of me."
 _________________________________

"Your people must be incredible, to have so many wonderful ideas," Taya told Johnny. In the time he had been on Portanus V he had become closer to the clerk Zdeev and his family. Many nights, like this one, Johnny took his evening meal with them. The quarters they shared with their son Tri were tiny and cramped but still were several levels above the rude shacks and filthy boardinghouses in which most of Flor subsided. Likewise, the stew, made with a blue-colored legume that added a paprika-like flavor to the rest of the vegetables and meat in the mixture. Many Portanans counted themselves lucky to have day-old gruel. Something else that needs to be addressed.

"Your people were at least as advanced, at one point. Most of these things, or things similar to them, were ideas they had before the Ghann invaded your world. And one day you'll be able to do all of them again; maybe even surpass what you had in the Glorious Age," Johnny answered.

"Why are you doing all this?" Zdeev asked. "You are a stranger to us. You look nothing like us, you do not subscribe to the teachings of the sextons, and you could easily conquer us and the Ghann alike if you so put your mind to it. I can't believe you're doing this strictly out of altruism!"

Johnny took a bite of his stew. Tri, who would have been roughly toddler-age were he a Human, was sitting next to him. He picked up Tri and set the youngster in his lap.

"Somewhere out there I have a little one about his age," Johnny said. "I see your child and think of my own child. I also have a wife, whom I love very dearly. I see you and Taya, and I think of Jenara," he continued,
remarking to himself that this was the first time he'd uttered her name aloud since coming to Portanus V. "Among my race we subscribe to the principle that you should treat others as you wish to be treated. Sexton Jorai of your world referred to it as the First Principle. On my world, many teachers have taught it but it's most commonly called the Golden Rule.

"Were the situations reversed, I would want someone to come to the aid of my wife and my daughter. Therefore, I will do whatever I can for others to merit that treatment. In your case, that meant coming to your aid. As a
result, the Wizard took notice of me, of all of us, and spared us from something more insidious. So, I'll do what I can to help the Wizard in return. The Wizard wants control of this city so he can push the Ghann back to where they came from. He has shown himself to be a just and wise ruler, so therefore, I will help him do this."

"Suppose the Wizard wasn't what he appeared to be? Suppose this is all a pretext?" Taya asked.

"In that case, I would be obliged to help remove him from power and place someone more honorable in his place. Where I come from, soldiers are obligated to disobey the orders of unjust rulers, and to help remove them
from power if necessary. Fortunately, this has not had to happen in hundreds of years," Johnny answered.

"So you would disobey the Wizard if in your judgment he proved to be unfit?" Zdeev asked.

*I see where this is leading,* Johnny thought. "If his actions proved to be at variance with the wishes of the people, he would have to be removed. Just as Baron Kelto must be removed now. He oppresses your people and keeps them from developing beyond their present conditions. I will concede that too much development too quickly can be dangerous," he said. *And you have no idea just how much I've kept you from, for your own good!* "My people have another rule, called the Prime Directive, that keeps us from taking advantage of those who have not attained our levels of technology. Normally I should not interfere at all with your conflict with the Ghann, but this rule also dictates that we must intervene when we see another power taking such advantage. Which is another reason why I act as I do. Your people deserve to develop on your own terms, not those of the Ghann or anyone working for them. Or mine, for that matter. If your people feel the need to rebel against your leadership, and it is genuinely your opinion that things are going wrong, then I will aid in whatever I can. But I will not initiate such a movement."

"How enlightened of you," Zdeev said sourly, then walked out.

*What bit him?* Johnny thought. *He's usually not that touchy!*

"You'll have to pardon him," Taya said. "Since Kelto's men attacked our village he's not been the same. He blames himself for the destruction of the village. He tried to negotiate but they didn't listen. Many people...
suffered badly at the hands of Kelto's army." Johnny picked up a subtext that perhaps this suffering had been very close to home for Taya. He decided not to pursue it.

"Zdeev was a clerk, not a soldier! Even if he were the best soldier in the world he could not have been able to do much against an entire army! At least he did what he could within his skills. Many men would not have had
the courage even to speak with such as Kelto's men! Don't blame him for what happened!" Johnny exclaimed.

"But I'm sure a real soldier could have held them off," Taya told him, her voice lowering. "Maybe you could have saved us." What could have passed as an alluring look amongst the Portanans floated across the table.

*I definitely don't like the direction this is taking!* Johnny thought. "Excuse me, ma'am, but whatever it is you have in mind I cannot accept. My heart belongs with my wife, and in any case I don't think the hardware is
compatible," he said. "Your husband did a very brave thing, attempting to negotiate with a horde of armed men. Courage like that is not found every day and is extremely valued amongst my people. He tried to stand up to
Kelto's men-at-arms in such a manner as you suggest, and you almost lost your son. Be thankful for what you have, and count your blessings that you still have it! If you'll excuse me, the hour is late, and I have a very
busy day tomorrow." Johnny set the now-sleeping Tri on his pallet and left the room, returning to his own chamber.

Taya looked up to see that Johnny had already left. She noted that Tri had been bedded down, and assumed that she must have dozed off. She rushed from the room, a sudden urgency to find Zdeev filling her mind.

*That was bizarre,* Johnny thought as he retired for the evening. His dreams that night were deep but not as troubled as they had been.
 _________________________________

~You have nothing to worry about, Jenara,~ a comforting and familiar voice told Jenara as she bedded herself and the baby down in a guest room in the Lataros' quarters. The work restoring the *Virgo's* tactical programming had been exhausting and Jenara's mind was starting to wander.

~Is that you, Tiadara?~ she thought back.

~Yes, it is I. You need not worry about Johnny. He is among friends and he is every bit the man of honor and integrity you have thought him to be. And he misses you very much!~ Tiadara answered.

~Send him my love,~ Jenara thought.

~I am already doing that.~

Title: "Plausible Deniability" (Part 8 of 12)
Author: Major Johnny Chee
Stardate: 2461178
Earthdate: March 6, 2384
Location: USS Virgo

Alysa Sinclair was frustrated. Benton, at least, was on to her.

In the past 24 hours, the three compartments she had mined had been placed under Security seal and evacuated. There would be no leverage over Johnny Chee now, although she really needed none. Johnny, marooned on Portanus V, would have no choice but to either comply with the mission orders to bring Portanus into the Federation fold or be killed. But it galled her to be foiled like that!

No time to waste on how it happened. More important was the fact that at least one senior officer may be aware of her activities. That the officer in question had control of the ship's security forces (and, as of yesterday, the Marines) posed a major threat to her plans.

*What leverage can I use on Commander Benton?* she thought. *That damned Kelvan is so hard to read!*

Sinclair remembered something very significant, however. Generally at social events Francesca Milano, Assistant Science Officer, could often be seen seeking Benton's company. Benton always seemed nonplussed by the contact, but Sinclair figured that was typical Kelvan reserve.

It's settled, then. Ensign Milano is the best chance I have at getting at Benton. "Computer, access Francesca Milano's duty schedule for the next 48 hours. List her ten most common destinations on the ship, in order of
descending probability."

A list scrolled down the screen. *Day's End Lounge, Stellar Cartography, Holodeck Three, Bridge: all too conspicuous. I'll have to intercept her in a corridor somehow.* "Computer, plot the most likely routes Ensign Milano would take from her quarters to these locations, and between all of these locations."

A ship's schematic appeared on the screen, with the routes outlined in red. *There! Nice and anonymous!*

Sinclair heard a noise behind her and turned to look. Behind her she could have sworn she saw a coyote, a medium-sized, vicious, feral dog native to the southwest of Earth's North American continent. For a moment she
thought about calling Security but decided to handle it on her own. She reached into her desk and drew a phaser. When she turned, however, the dog was gone.
 ____________________________________

Jenara waited until Sinclair had left the office. It was so good to have her shapeshifting powers back! But she was out of practice. She'd waited as long as she could, absorbing impressions from Sinclair while morphed into the form of a spare uniform in Alysa's wardrobe but had become distracted by the thought of what might happen should Alysa decide to wear her! She lost her form and had to shapeshift into something else to avoid detection.

In reading Johnny's journals, and in the course of her relationship with him, Jenara had learned much about the legends of the American Southwest, about Coyote, the Trickster, whom the Navajo and their Hopi neighbors
believed would be the last living thing on Earth. At first Jenara thought this form would be way too conspicuous but the split-second Alysa needed to turn and get a weapon was all Jenara needed to morph unnoticed into the floor.

A thought crossed Jenara's mind. This could be better than I thought! She shifted back into her normal form and reviewed the terminal on Alysa's desk. She found the exact location Sinclair had been looking for. She tapped her com badge. "Chee to Benton or Sitto. Security is needed at Deck 24, Section Five immediately!"
 ____________________________________

Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee, SFMC: Day 284. The moment I've been fearing has finally happened. Someone managed to get to the Wizard!

"It happened last night, as we celebrated a local festival in which the eldest of a household is to share darcco, a type of bread, with the youngest. Vinzi, of course, shared a slice of the bread with Tri. Within moments Tri was dead and Vinzi critically ill. I interrogated the cook and found that he'd been bribed to empty a vial of poison into the bread mix. I hope he managed to spend his thirty pieces of silver before I had him shot. During the interrogation I found out that he'd been an assassin on the Kelto payroll and had been a member of the Wizard's household for five years. Well, no longer.

"I don't like such harsh methods, but they are necessary. I offered amnesty to any other Kelto agents who would come forward, and none did. I can only hope that the cook was the limit of the infiltration. The Wizard is still alive, just barely. Other than Zdeev, Taya, and the Korath I've trained, I can count on no one at this point.

"Such an attack demands full retribution, and we may have to move on the Baron's forces soon."
 ____________________________________

"How is he?" Johnny asked Fralu, a Healer's Guild member who had come to attend Vinzi. While officially neutral, the Healer's Guild was the guild that had originally educated Vinzi, whose status as Wizard was predicated
upon his being the only one with knowledge of the secrets of all the guilds. As such, the Healers had a personal loyalty toward Vinzi even though their official position was neutral.

"I'm afraid he may not last. The poison he ingested was very powerful. It's nothing less than a miracle that he's lived this long," Fralu replied.

"How long does he have?"

"He'll be dead by nightfall. As his bodyguard and majordomo you must get his affairs in order."

With that, Johnny left Fralu and went into the Wizard's chambers.

He'd never been into this part of the Wizard's household before. There were more books here, private books the Wizard had never revealed to others. Johnny recognized the titles as advanced science texts from before the Day of the Demons. There was more to this guy than anyone imagined!

"Attend me, Johnny," the Wizard bade. Johnny went to Vinzi's pallet.

"What can I do for you?"

"Send for Fralu, Zdeev, Taya, and two others not of the Korath. I need to make a statement."

*Eight, counting myself, Vinzi, and the Unknown. He's making his final statement!*

Johnny rushed out into the corridor and sent for the Healer and Taya and Zdeev, and two visiting members of the Weaver's Guild.

After they were assembled, Vinzi summoned the last of his strength and spoke.

"My people, I thank you for your service. I have no heir, and have not been able to pass on my knowledge as well as I would have preferred. Fortunately, the Unknown has seen fit to send someone among us whose knowledge surpasses any Wizard in known memory. It is only appropriate that I leave the office to the foreigner Johnny, along with my entire household. Let it be known that he is to be obeyed as I have been obeyed! Johnny, come forth!"

Johnny stepped forward and knelt by Vinzi's pallet. Vinzi placed an amulet around Johnny's neck. "This is your badge of office, Johnny. Wear it with honor! Avenge me and set my people free!" he commanded, before he breathed his last. The Wizard, the first, and the best, man Johnny had met on Portanus V, had died.

He stood up. The others were looking to him for orders.

"All right, people, this is a difficult moment for all of us. Zdeev, Taya, you know these things better than I. Handle the necessary arrangements for his burial or whatever you do here. Zdeev, you're my second-in-command.
I'm counting on you to keep this show on the road!

"Fralu, report back to your guild and get every Healer in the city mobilized. We're going to need them very shortly. Weavers, I want you to report to your guild and tell them that the Wizard requires gauze bandages
in all sizes and lengths to be supplied to the Healers' Guild. The first one to see a herald, send him my way," Johnny ordered.

"What do you have in mind?" Zdeev asked.

"Vinzi was a member of the Healer's Guild, and I am a member of the Soldier's Guild," Johnny said. Not technically true, but it works for the moment. "I intend to confront Baron Kelto and run his sorry ass out of
town!"
 ____________________________________

The herald arrived, and Johnny sent word with him that he was the new Wizard and that he was ordering everyone not needed by a guild to stay in their homes. Then, he called up his troops.

"Korath, attend me! Today, we march on Kelto! Remember what you have been taught, and may the Unknown ride with you!" Johnny's personal warband sent up a cheer. The Unknown will be with them, but the Holy People are another story. I have not had time to sing since I have come here.

The troop of 192 Korath, led by Johnny, marched into the twisting streets of Flor. Johnny broke them off by platoons and dispersed them throughout the city. It did not take long for the first shots to be fired. Very few of
the loud, thunderous shots of Portanan muskets, dozens of the short, staccato bursts of the bolt-action rifles Johnny's troops were equipped with. From various quarters the loud, ripping sound of one of the new Portanan
Gatling guns issued forth, as many as 800 rounds per minute ripping apart the enemy.

Johnny personally led a platoon up the main boulevard to Kelto's castle. A flying wedge of musketry was arrayed to greet him. "Platoon, disperse!" Johnny ordered. Korath troops rushed into buildings and took up sniper positions. By the time the first rank of musketry had loaded and aimed the entire platoon was in position.

"Baron Kelto, I am Johnny, Wizard of Flor! You will surrender to me, and I will spare your life for your heinous crime. If you do not surrender, you and your entire household will be destroyed! Don't make me warn you
again!" Johnny yelled.

A Portanan officer gave the order for the formation to fire. Johnny ducked into an alley just as the first rounds went off. It was no match. The Korath riflemen cut the first rank and most of the second rank apart with gunfire.
The third rank broke and fell back against the palace walls. Cannon in the palace battlements began sounding off. A solid cannonball struck the side of a building and demolished it, killing the five Korath riflemen ensconced
inside.

"Mortar team, commence firing!" Johnny yelled. A two-man mortar team began firing. The mortars detonated amongst the men in the battlements. The screams were agonizing, and the trails of purple blood running down the white palace walls in stark relief were too much to look at.

Johnny smelled smoke. Parts of the city were burning. *Yet another reason why I hate urban combat!*

A bazooka team fired, the small rocket hitting a turret on the palace and completely obliterating it. More mortars were lobbed inside the palace walls. The screams were almost deafening. Johnny drew his pistol, a remake
of the Colt .45 revolver, and waded into the action.

A Portanan armed with a musket attempted to charge him with a bayonet. Johnny leveled his pistol and shot the enemy between the eyes. Another one tackled Johnny from the side, knocking the pistol out of his hand. Johnny slammed his fist into the Portanan's face repeatedly but the enemy would not yield. He felt something bite down into his leg. Johnny found the lanyard to his pistol and took it in hand. He shot the enemy soldier gnawing on his leg. Limping, he continued to move toward the palace.

More of the Korath were converging on the palace, joined by a not inconsiderable number of Kelto's men-at-arms. The tide of the battle was turning in Johnny's favor! One of his lieutenants located him and informed him that the townspeople were also rising in rebellion upon hearing of Vinzi's assassination. Supporters of Baron Kelto were being lynched and burned at the stake throughout the city.

Two more bazooka rounds ripped apart the entire southeastern corner of the palace. *Those things are working better than I expected!* Johnny thought to himself. Not long after that the Korath overran the palace walls. Fighting went hand-to-hand.

Johnny picked up the musket of the Portanan he'd shot and waded further into the chaos. Three more Portanans fell to his appropriated bayonet. A trumpet sounded. Two short blasts, followed by a long blast, followed by two short blasts. Kelto's surrendering!

Johnny took the small trumpet he carried for sounding orders and blew the signal to stand down. Immediately the fighting stopped. Kelto stepped forward from the fray, his once-fine attire torn and stained with purple
blood and powder residue. *I'll give the guy this: he leads from the front!* Johnny thought.

"You are Baron Kelto?" Johnny asked.

"I am he. And of course you are the foreigner. Do you know how hard you are to kill? We've been trying for months to poison you!" Kelto answered.

"Interesting. I thought you folks just liked your hot sauce a lot!" Johnny had noticed something different about his food in the past few months. An Arizona native, he was no stranger to hot, spicy food. But some of the dishes he'd eaten recently tested even his resolve! It must have been the poison I was tasting. I wonder if it was the same formula that did in Vinzi and Tri?

"My error for thinking a poison that could affect people would also affect foreigners. I offer my surrender under any terms you care to name," Kelto said.

"By your laws I am well within my rights to execute you. But I doubt that Vinzi would desire such vengeance. You will abdicate and submit to my authority. Order your followers to do the same and turn over any and all
documents in your possession. I'll make sure you get a relatively pleasant corner of the dungeon," Johnny told him.
 ____________________________________

Location: USS Virgo

Jenara rushed to the location indicated on Alysa's terminal. She couldn't risk using the transporters or her com badge on the chance that Sinclair may be monitoring them. Shifting back to the coyote form, she began running a lot faster than the humanoid shape would be capable of.
 ____________________________________

Francesca Milano was walking from her duty station to her quarters, hoping she'd bump into Benton somehow. She hadn't seen him much since Johnny disappeared and figured he must be busy with the investigation. *But he can't work all the time!* she thought. She was busy thinking of ways to draw Benton's attention from his work at least temporarily when someone bumped into her. She looked up and saw Lieutenant Alysa Sinclair.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Lieutenant! I..."

"Keep your mouth shut and come with me," Alysa ordered.

"What's going on?"

"I said, keep your mouth shut!" Alysa backhanded Francesca across the mouth. Francesca went down. Alysa drew her phaser and was preparing to stun Francesca when...

"Ma'am, drop the phaser now and turn around slowly!" Alysa turned around. Private Ivan Zelansky had his phaser trained on her.

Sinclair grabbed Francesca by the wrist. "Don't even think about it, Private! You're out of your league!"

"Ma'am. Drop the phaser. Now!" Zelansky upped the power setting on his hand phaser to heavy stun.

"If you don't drop your phaser, I will kill her! Do you understand me?"

"I understand that if you don't put that damn phaser down right now you are going to be in a serious world of hurt!" He tapped his com badge. "Zelansky to Lieutenant Sitto. I have a hostage situation on Deck 24. Need immediate backup!"

[Acknowledged. Backup is on its way!]

No sooner than the com circuit closed than a dog charged down the corridor and leaped up onto Sinclair's chest. The coyote brought Sinclair down to the deck, then morphed back to the form of Jenara. She looked up and recognized Zelansky.

"Good work, Private! Thanks for stalling her!"

The young Marine looked stunned. "That backup showed up fast!" Then, on his com badge: "Zelansky to Lieutenant Sitto. Situation under control. One to beam to the brig!"

Sinclair dematerialized as the beam took hold of her. At that moment, she was to deliver the command to delay detonation of the mines. Suddenly, the ship went to red alert. Engineering and Operations personnel began filling the corridors.

"Let's get to Security. I think Ms. Sinclair has a few questions she needs to answer!" Jenara said, taking charge of the situation.

"Ma'am, may I ask a personal question?" Zelansky asked.

"It depends upon how personal," Jenara said.

"Did Major Chee know you can do that?"

She laughed. "He'll find out!"
 ____________________________________

Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee, SFMC: Day 365. It's now been one year since I first arrived on Portanus V, and I find myself dictator of its chief city-state.

"This is not what I wanted, or even tried to do. Overthrow Kelto, yes, but I figured either Vinzi or one of the other nobles would take control. But an assembly of the nobles and the heads of the major guilds got together and
proclaimed me Dictator of Flor. Cute. Exactly what the Prime Directive was supposed to prevent!

"Of course, the Prime Directive went out the window as soon as the T'rais showed up. The records that Kelto turned over revealed that he'd been on their payroll all along. The uniformity and quality of the muskets carried
by his troops only verified that connection. Portanan manufacturing is essentially 16th-century technology manufactured to 19th-century standards, thanks to their superior eyesight. These muskets, while they're still
muskets, are manufactured with tolerances that would require at least 20th-century machine tools to achieve. The T'rais must have an active manufacturing facility on the planet. I recall from my time on the *Virgo* that the T'rais were very good at harnessing alternative energy resources, recycling, and manufacturing high-quality products quickly. If they weren't so warlike they could dominate this sector as a commercial power!

"All that aside, I'm doing my best to rule by law rather than force. I've had to execute six people since taking control of the city, far more than I feel comfortable with, but the assembly of nobles assures me that I've executed far fewer people than any leader in Flor's history! At least these people were given a jury trial according to the Pandects of Flor, their major civil legal code. The likelihood that someone innocent would be sent to the gallows has decreased dramatically!

"I've also begun negotiations with the nobles to establish an Assembly of Commoners, something the books in Vinzi's (and Kelto's) libraries say Portanus once had. At first they were afraid of losing their privilege, but when I told them that the burden of government would actually be taken somewhat off their shoulders, thus allowing them more time to peruse hunting and theater and the arts, they seemed more amenable to the idea. I guess
they wanted the power without the work. Now the people will have the work and the power! The first elections take place next week. I may be a dictator, but dammit I will make sure these people have democracy at some
point!!! As a concession to the nobles, I've established a succession process similar to the one the Vatican uses on Earth: from among their number they will elect a new leader in the event of my demise or resignation. I still hold out hope of rescue, although I realistically have to consider the fact I've been declared KIA.

"The sextons, however, are proving to be more difficult."
 ____________________________________

"I must protest what you're doing to our way of life!" Chief Sexton Varsh almost yelled at Johnny. "You're undermining the natural order of our society! First all this technology, then these... changes!"

"I am doing nothing to your society that you didn't once have. In your Glorious Age all men and women were equal and participated equally in government and all the trades. Everyone could read, write, and perform at
least basic mathematics. All I give you is what you once had for yourselves," Johnny replied.

"And these things led to our downfall! We abandoned the natural order of society and invited the Ghann to overrun the world! And you, promoting heresy..."

"And what heresy has Johnny promoted?" Zdeev shot back. "Granted, he does not follow all the Precepts, but he is still new to our society. He follows his own gods as any foreigner would. But he has not interfered with the
teaching or practice of any of our rites, nor has he attempted to proselytize anyone to his beliefs. In fact, the mimeograph machine he's helped us build has multiplied the teachings of all the sextons so that they may be distributed at practically no cost to everyone who wants them! How can you say he's working against the True Faith?" Zdeev, as Johnny's chief aide, had proven invaluable in helping to set up the new government.

*I bet the village where he was clerk ran like clockwork, too!* Johnny thought with approval.

"Since the institution of Johnny's sanitation reforms infant mortality has declined almost fifty percent, and the sloughing skin disease is almost unheard of inside Flor. The police force Johnny established has eliminated
most forms of crime within the city walls. And the Chamber Guild has contained disease and adultery and has reduced the number of orphans on the streets!" Zdeev continued. Johnny blushed at the mention of the Chamber Guild. Essentially it amounted to legalized prostitution, although what Johnny had in mind was more akin to Risa or an ancient Japanese geisha house. But the controls on the clientele and on guild membership had managed to reduce most of the more blatant problems surrounding that particular occupation. Even so, it wasn't something covered in the typical ethics courses at Starfleet Academy.

"How is this man a threat to the faith?" Zdeev asked. "He's bringing us back to what we once were!"

"But this... abolishing slavery, of all things? How will our economy function?" Varsh protested.

"Forced labor will still be retained for prisoners. And slavery will be phased out gradually, allowing slave owners to invest their money elsewhere. The machinery we're able to build now, thanks to the better quality steel we
can produce, will eliminate the need for a lot of the labor force. These people can go back to farming or mining or something else that requires a lot of labor. But it will be their own choice!" Johnny explained. "If, as Sexton Xeron said 240 years after the Day of the Demons, the Unknown is known through its reflection in people. My own people, most of them at any rate, believe the same thing, that people were created in the image of God. Either way, to abuse the image of a superior power by enslaving it is wrong and unjustifiable. Now, you can either sign off on the reforms, or you can join Kelto in the dungeon. The choice is yours!"

Varsh applied his seal to the order, which had been approved by the nobles after Johnny had told them how much money they'd save by not having to mount expeditions to capture people who had been feeding themselves but would have to be provided for as slaves.

Another presence entered the room where Johnny held court, a side office in the palace that formerly belonged to Baron Kelto. The Great Hall awaited repairs and would eventually become the meeting place for the  Assemblies of Nobles and of Commoners.

Johnny needed no time to recognize the emissary before him as the emissary removed his cloak. Immediately, his guards trained their rifles on the emissary. A tall, red-skinned humanoid. The Portanans called them the
demon Ghann. Johnny called them the T'rais.

"Be gone, demon!" Varsh yelled, reaching for a vial of holy water.

"Hold," Johnny said. "Powerful he may be, but he is no demon." Although what they've done to this world is plenty demonic enough!

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Johnny demanded.

The T'rais looked shocked. "You are a Human from Starfleet! What have you done with the rightful ruler of this city?"

"Your puppet, you mean? He's alive and well in my dungeon. He's been most tractable in telling us all about you. In the end, even Kelto's more honorable than the likes of you!" Johnny answered. "The people of Flor are
their own rulers now, and you'd better learn to deal with them as equals!"

"How quickly you are deceived!" the T'rais answered. "Once these people were like us, like you, powerful and capable of reaching the stars. But we defeated them and showed them to be the degenerates they are!"

Johnny was electrified. *The Portanans had warp drive? Certainly what I've read of their texts looked as though they were headed in that direction. Maybe that's why there's no more dilithium left; what the Portanans didn't
use, the T'rais are using!*

"A few nuclear weapons on a place and anyone would quickly degenerate," Johnny retorted. "But these people are not degenerates. They are a proud and honorable people. And they're making up ground rather quickly. Soon you won't be able to contain them to Flor. They'll run you off this planet and take back their own!"

"You're entirely too confident, Human! Our reinforcements are on their way. Once they arrive, you stand no chance! Surrender to us now and live!"

*Reinforcements? Could that have been the heavy assault transport Bortu and I intercepted?* "Not likely," Johnny responded. "I have it on good authority that your reinforcements may be some time in coming. Now, crawl back to your hole and learn not to barge into another man's house before I have my troops here teach you that lesson!" On Johnny's signal, the two troops guarding his office worked the bolts on their rifles. The T'rais left.

"Now," Johnny said, turning to Sexton Varsh, "would a heretic be able to cast out a demon?"

Varsh held his hands out, palms up: a negative gesture.

*I should find that T'rais again and pay him generously!* Johnny thought. "He mentioned reinforcements. Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

"It is a legend of theirs," Varsh explained. "Supposedly they did not come to the world in enough numbers to completely wipe us out, our weapons were more advanced and more numerous in those days, so they sent for reinforcements. That was over a thousand years ago. They're still waiting! We find that a source of amusement."
 ____________________________________

Location: USS Virgo

"You do realize the amount of trouble you're in right now, Lieutenant Sinclair," Benton said flatly. "You stand accused of the murder of one Starfleet officer, attempted murder of no less than twenty Starfleet personnel and civilians, and assault on yet another officer. Not to mention the breaking-and-entering, illegal possession of explosives, and coercion charges. Whatever explanation you have, it had better be a good one!"

Sinclair, safely contained inside a force field, just glared at him. "I had my orders. I carried them out. I do not have to make any further statement on this point." She was silent after that. Benton decided not to waste any more time on Sinclair until Commander Lataro could give further advice. He left the brig.

Jenara was waiting in his office, along with Adrianna. "Is Francesca going to be okay?" she asked.

"She's shaken up, but she'll be fine. There were no injuries, although Dr. Maruu is keeping her in Sickbay for observation," Benton answered.

"Maybe you should see her. I know she'd like that. She does think the world of you, you know," Jenara told him.

Benton flushed. "Why, yes, I... er... oh, dear. I suppose Lieutenant Sitto can handle things here for a while." He informed his second-in-command that he was headed to Sickbay to check on Francesca.

Jenara walked into the brig. Sinclair glared at her. "You know I can read your thoughts. You know that you're in a hell of a lot of trouble right now. And I suppose you know I can shapeshift as well. So why don't you tell me
what's going on before I either rip it from your mind or shift into a mugatu and get it the hard way?" Neither method, of course, was legal, but Jenara was hoping to at least get her to talk. No response. Disgusted, Jenara
left.

Jenara returned to the Security office, where Lieutenant Sitto was now posted, his feet propped on a console. Upon seeing Jenara enter Sitto immediately sat up. "Don't mind me, Lieutenant. Just let me know where there's a spare console I can use." Sitto showed her to a free console.

Jenara ran a few calculations, then tapped her com badge. "Lt. Chee to Sgt. Barek. I'd like to speak with you, please."
 

Title: "Plausible Deniability" (Part 9 of 12)
Author: Lt. Commander Benton
Stardate: 2461178
Earthdate: March 6, 2384
Location: USS Virgo

'Why don't you go visit Francesca in sickbay, Benton? I think she'd really appreciate that. You know she thinks the world of you," Jenara had said only a few minutes earlier.

*Yes, I suppose I do know that,* thought Benton, but it wasn't a fact he enjoyed admitting even to himself. Francesca had such an intense, innocent exuberance about her; she seemed to unquestioningly admire and trust Benton no matter what he did or how he tried to dodge her attention. Her flighty enthusiasm usually left him flustered and at a loss for words trying to keep up.

At least he was pretty sure it was her enthusiasm that flustered him. An alternate theory briefly diverted Benton's train of thought with a memory of Francesca posing for him in her skimpy Xenon III outfit under the forest canopy. Annoyed and a little embarrassed, Benton quickly banished that thought.

Benton respected and even liked Francesca. He knew that he would never find a truer friend anywhere. But his first priority was to his duty and his oath, not trying to keep pace with a giddy girlfriend. He was a serious professional, and although she was an extremely competent officer, she usually came off as a goofball. The two of them were a hopeless match, and he had told Francesca that several times, yet that didn't deter the persistent young woman. If anything, it just encouraged her to try harder!

*See? She's doing it to me again!* It was with confused thoughts like these spinning around his usually calm Kelvan brain that Benton made his way to sickbay.

Vague trepidation about the imminent encounter gave way quickly to resignation when Benton heard Francesca's shouting voice coming from the other side of the sickbay door. Benton steeled himself and went in.

Sure enough, there was Francesca squared off against Doctor Maruu. Obviously still wobbly, Francesca was holding on to the edge of her bed to keep from tipping over, while the brave doctor brandished a hypospray in one hand and was making placating gestures with the other.

"You can't keep me here!" Francesca was saying.

"Ensign... Francesca... Please. It's for your own good. You have a mild concussion," Dana was saying.

"Ah... Excuse me," said Benton hesitantly, almost dreading getting involved in this.

Both combatants turned their heads simultaneously toward the source of the interruption.

"Benton!" cried Francesca, relief plainly readable on her face. "I have to go see someone and Dana won't let me out of here."

Dana interjected before Francesca could continue. "Commander. I'm glad you're here. Could you give me a hand please?" She nodded her head in Francesca's direction.

"Of course," he said and stepped the rest of the way into sickbay. Maneuvering over to Francesca's side, he took her arm and gently steered her back towards her bed. "Why don't you just lie back down Francesca and get some more rest?"

"What? What are you doing?" Francesca tried to resist Benton's guidance, but in her wobbly condition it was all she could do just to cling to his arm and be guided. "I thought you were going to help me. I told you I have
something I need to do." She sniffed sadly, and when Benton looked at her she fluttered her eyelashes a few times.

But Benton had already learned about that trick the hard way. He wasn't about to let her fluster him this time. Again the image of her in that skimpy costume flashed unbidden into his mind, and again he tossed it out.
He sat her on her bed and then asked, "Maybe I can help you. What do you need to do that's so important? Who do you need to see?"

Francesca slumped back on the mattress. "Sinclair, of course! Who else? I got a big can o' whoop-ass an' it's got her name on it!"

"Ah." Knowing Francesca the way he did, that was what he'd expected all this commotion had been about. He patted her hand reassuringly and tried a small smile. "Don't worry about Lieutenant Sinclair, Francesca. She's safely in the brig, and Sitto is keeping his usual watchful eye on her."

Francesca gave a small snort. "But..."

"Furthermore," continued Benton, unimpeded, "you are in no condition to be moving about, let alone opening large cans with people's names on them."

"But..."

"So you just stay here, behave yourself, and leave everything to me."

At that last statement, Francesca became less agitated. "Well...."

"Believe me, Francesca, Lieutenant Sinclair has a list of charges against her so long it will take me half an hour just to read it to her. By the time Starfleet is through with her, she'll *wish* that her only punishment was
your large can."

As Francesca tried to puzzle out Benton's last comment, Benton pulled the bed covers over her. He smiled again and said, "Get well." With that, he turned to leave.

From where she had been standing a short distance away, Dana smiled at Benton and gave him a thumbs-up signal in thanks.

Francesca watched Benton's retreating back until the sickbay doors hissed shut behind him. She sighed dreamily, suddenly all smiles. "Golly. He *does* care."
 

Title: "Plausible Deniability" (Part 10 of 12)
Author: Major Johnny Chee
Stardate: 2461181
Earthdate: March 7, 2384
Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee: Day 436. Since the T'rais emissary appeared in my court a few months ago I've been doing what I can to prepare Flor for an attack. We've stepped up weapons production and I've introduced a breech, loading 60 mm howitzer to the arsenal. I'm still working on discarding-sabot rounds but I'm afraid we don't have the manufacturing capability for those just yet. We can build rockets, however, and we're building those in mass quantities. We've started arming more of the Korath and training them as pathfinders. They report that the T'rais are digging in deeply as well. Incidentally, I've issued an order granting the Korath full equality with other Portanans; they were among the first of the slaves to be freed, along with all children upon reaching majority and all elders. Slavery will be ended completely within two generations. Nobody seems to mind. I only wish racism were as easy to abolish on other worlds.

"Once the crops are in I'm going to order earthworks set up around the city, beginning with trenches. I wouldn't mind a few kilometers of barbed wire but our extrusion processes still need work. A village to the south of Flor
was discovered to have petroleum deposits, which solves the fuel problem for our flamethrowers. We're nowhere near starting an oil refinery. That alone would take a lifetime to design and build, especially since I know nothing of the basic technology. Gasoline hasn't been used on Earth in centuries. But the Alchemist's Guild can separate out kerosene, benzene, and tar, all of which are useful in both military and civil manufacturing. Thanks to the discovery of tar, the homes in Flor no longer leak in the rain and a couple of
alchemists are working on recreating asphalt for the roads. The main thoroughfares within Flor and between Flor and some of the larger villages are being macadamized but a full road system will have to wait until after
we defeat the T'rais. If we defeat the T'rais.

"I've appointed Zdeev postmaster and instructed him to set up a communications system between the major villages. In the process, he's appropriated two dozen of the Korath who now function both as roving police and postmen. Banditry in the countryside, I'm told, is on the decline. The Korath have no regard at all for bandits, whom they regard as refuse who could neither live in the towns nor adapt to what they consider to be the
true way of life. And the mail gets through with regularity! Nomads running the postal service. Who would've thought of it?

"Disputes amongst the guilds and the sextons over who should handle education have led me to establish the University of Flor, where anyone may learn any trade for a reasonable fee (often taken out of the money they
make as apprentices). In addition, the sextons are starting a primary school system. Taking a cue from the Christian Bible, I suggested to Varsh that the writings of all the sextons of note be combined into a single volume. He was amenable to the idea, saying it would reduce incidences of heresy and make education easier. The first Great Text was printed two weeks later, after the sextons finished arguing over which works were most important. Smaller, mimeographed versions of the Great Text are available from the University for one-half paregi-expensive for most people, but Portanans care enough about their faith to save up for a copy. Using my now-considerable personal wealth, what I inherited from Vinzi combined with Kelto's fortune and the royalties from all these inventions, I set up a grant fund which would provide every Portanan child with a copy of the Great Text upon entering school. Since this often became the family copy, enrollment has been brisk.

"We've just about reached the limits of what I can help the Portanans accomplish given what they already had. I'd say we're at around 19th-century levels of technology now, but without some major developments. Steam power and internal combustion, for example. We still don't have machine tools capable of the tolerances needed for even the most simple of engines. I've shown designs for calipers, micrometers, and ring and plug gauges to the Jeweler's Guild, but being the most conservative of the guilds, they've been slow to act. Something resembling gauge blocks have been developed by the Printer's Guild for typesetting, so they may actually be the ones to give us better metrology tools.

"All in all, Portanus V is becoming more liveable. Except for being occupied by an advanced and decidedly unfriendly alien power, that is. One thing that troubles me still: how did the T'rais emissary know about Starfleet if
they've been cut off from contact for a thousand local years? With the exception of the Vulcans and the Bajorans most of the Federation wasn't even spacefaring that long ago!"
 _____________________________________

"I like it, but do you honestly think we can manufacture this?" Johnny asked, looking over some design sketches presented to him by a member of the Blacksmith's Guild.

"Those damned jewelers keep dragging their feet on the tools you say we need, but the printers and the carpenters have stepped into the gap and given us what we need," the blacksmith replied, showing him a surprisingly well-made micrometer. "The alchemists and the weavers are working on other parts the design needs."

"Very good!" Johnny said, examining the micrometer. It looked very similar to a 20th-century Earth model with the exception of the scaling. It was graduated in 1028th parts of a fard, the principle unit of length measurement of the Portanans. *More than adequate! We can start doing lots of things now!* "Keep me apprised. I really want to see this one!"

The blacksmith left, ecstatic. Johnny was happy, too; the Portanans were starting to develop technologies on their own. And, thanks to the implementation of parliamentary democracy, more of the actual day-to-day business of running Flor and the villages that looked to be leaving Johnny's hands which was his actual motive in setting up the system in the first place. Flor was evolving beyond a city-state and becoming an actual
nation; one individual, no matter how competent (which Johnny did not consider himself to be) could not possibly keep up with all the details. Now he could focus on what he did best, and what Portanus V really needed.

Flor now boasted a standing army of nearly 2500. Smaller than Johnny would have preferred, but very well-trained and well-equipped. In addition, a reserve force of another 5000 could be activated to defend the city walls and other facilities (such as the windmill-powered generators Johnny was planning as soon as they could come up with decent wire). Most were equipped with bolt-action rifles, and, at great expense, Johnny had arranged for a reserve of nearly a million rounds of ammunition to supply them. Tons of explosives, TNT and nitrogen triiodide, and thousands of gallons of kerosene for flamethrowers had been stockpiled as well. The Weavers and Dyers had produced camouflage gear patterned in a mottled purple pattern to match Portanus's vegetation. Work on body armor, unfortunately, awaited the development of useful plastics by the Alchemists, although the discovery of a petroleum reserve promised to hasten that development. Until then leather armor would have to suffice. It would be absolutely useless except against hand-to-hand weaponry and low-caliber rounds at medium to long range. Steel helmets, however, were standard-issue items to the regulars.

*So this is what generals have to put up with!* Johnny also had to sort through reports from Korath scouts and determine the disposition of the T'rais enclave. For centuries the two sides had been raiding one another,
battling over small villages meaningless to all but their inhabitants. The Portanans had held their ground for a long time but in the past few generations had been falling back against Flor increasingly.

A scout reported in to Johnny, who sat at his desk in front of a map of the continent: an ancient map, drawn from Kelto's library and quite possibly the only reasonably accurate map in existence. It predated the Day of the
Demons and did not show the huge crater formed during the invasion.

"Sire, I have a report! A scouting party has seized control of a Ghann village eighty leagues from here!" the scout said.

"Can we hold this village?" Johnny asked. The scout signaled in the affirmative by holding his hands out, palms downward.

"There were twelve of us. We defeated a force of fifty Ghann! They were armed with the old rifles, not the new ones you've taught us about. None of them survived but none of us were hurt!"

"Did you obtain any intelligence: maps, communiques, orders, anything like that?" Johnny asked. *Our first major break, if we can make it work!*

"Oh, yes!" the scout replied, reaching into a pouch. Johnny examined the contents. Sure enough, there were area maps, equipment inventories, messages to and from a central headquarters. The place names were all T'rais so they meant nothing to Johnny on the reading alone.

"You can read the demon-speak?" the scout asked, astonished.

"I can read this language," Johnny asked. He decided months ago that convincing the Portanans that the T'rais weren't demons was both impossible and counterproductive. Besides, casting them as servants of evil was
useful propaganda which, Johnny thought, was probably how that story started to begin with.

An item in the pouch caught Johnny's attention. It was an extremely old piece of flexible plastic, similar to what was used in the Federation before the advent of PADDs. He unfolded it to reveal a huge image in color which
had faded and altered over the course of centuries. A Starfleet Marine in full battle gear. The caption, in T'rais, read "This Is The Enemy!" Johnny looked closer at the face behind the helmet's visor.

It was a picture of him!!!

"I thought you may find that of interest, Sire. The picture is plainly you, even though his skull growth seems much shorter. The equipment I do not recognize."

"Yes, of course." Johnny said distantly. The Portanans lacked extensive body hair and had never developed barbering as a profession. Johnny was able to use a hide scraper from the Tanners' Guild to shave with, but didn't trust himself to cut his own hair. He kept it tied back in the manner of his ancestors. "Where exactly did you find this?"

"It was in a building the Ghann treated with great reverence. At first we thought it was a temple, but when we looked inside it appeared no different from this office," the scout answered.

Johnny looked at some fine printing at the edge of the poster: a printing date and the name of a printing company. The T'rais date corresponded to a date just two months before he had been marooned on Portanus V!.

*Now that's interesting!!! I've been here over a year, and the T'rais have been here more than a thousand years. And this poster has a date that corresponds to when I was still on the *Virgo* and yet looks like it's a
thousand years old!*

"Why don't you get something to eat, soldier? I need to look these things over," Johnny said.

The dates on the other documents corresponded to what Johnny had thought after seeing the date on the poster. But he needed to verify what he was seeing.

Going to his library, Johnny retrieved a physics text that dated to the time before the Day of the Demons. He looked up the figure for the speed of light. In Portanan units, it corresponded to what Johnny had known it to
be. He recalled a controversy several months ago amongst scholars regarding the speed of light. The quantity needed to be known precisely in order to make further advances in electronics and physics. Johnny searched his office and found the memo regarding this discovery and compared the two figures.

The modern figure was 180 times higher than the figure shown in the ancient texts!

Time was moving much more rapidly in this part of space. That explains the poster, and why Intelligence is interested in the Portanus system! The higher inherent speed of light is why messages are able to travel more
quickly when they originate from Portanus!

But it came at a cost. While over a year had passed for Johnny, only a few days had passed on the *Virgo.* Whatever advantage would be granted by this discrepancy was offset by that tiny little fact. Even an unmanned relay station would fall apart due to age and wear long before a response to any message could be received!

*So all Lieutenant Sinclair's scheming was absolutely useless!* Johnny thought. *And those reinforcements the T'rais are waiting for; those must have been the ships Bortu and I encountered! They must have been dispatched only a few weeks after the initial invasion. The past thousand years for the Portanans have only been six months or so in normal space!!!*
 _____________________________________

Location: USS Virgo

"You wanted to speak with me, ma'am?" Staff Sergeant Barek Nim asked Jenara.

"Yes, I did, Barek. How soon can you get the platoon ready for a combat mission?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"We're getting Johnny back!" Jenara said. "According to my calculations, an anti-chronoton stream of a precise length and intensity should arrest the accelerated time flow in the Portanus system. Once we get that problem
solved, then we can perform a rescue mission. The T'rais are likely to be there in force, however, and I'll need all the help I can get."

"I see. Do you have any idea how many enemy troops there are, or how they're equipped?"

"Absolutely none. Nothing we've gotten from the debriefings of the two T'rais prisoners indicates that they've had any involvement with Portanus V. The transport Ensign Bortu reported was capable of carrying fifteen
thousand troops, with armor and air support. We don't even know if the locals are hostile, for that matter," Jenara replied.

"Hmm. Sixteen of us, with standard infantry load and a runabout, versus a technologically advanced opponent that outnumbers us about a thousand to one, on a backward planet we know nothing about. Let me think about this." Barek thought aloud.

"Sergeant, if you don't think we can pull this off, just let me know. I respect your judgment."

"Ma'am, I'm Bajoran. I'm used to odds like this! All I need to know is how to get the gear we'll need! We all want him back, now let's go get him!"
 _____________________________________

Meanwhile, Lataro had shown up after checking the new tactical and countermeasures programming K'Lara and Jenara had developed. The Captain had been briefed on the explosions and the situation involving Lieutenant
Sinclair. "Ms. Chee, I must commend you on the programs you've developed. The countermeasures suite is at least 60% more efficient than the one we left the Alpha Quadrant with! Combined with the ablative armor we should be indomitable!"

"All in the line of duty, Commander. I do have a formal request to make, and a favor to ask." Jenara said.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to use the *Dawn* for some research involving chronoton particles and the space-time distortion we've just passed through. I think I've found a way to counter such time distortions in the future," she answered.

"I see," Lataro said. Jenara could tell he wasn't buying it. "I suppose your research would be applicable not only to time loops but also to time fields operating at rates different from ours?"

"Of course. What use would it be otherwise?"

"And you have adequate staff and equipment for your, ah, experiment?" Lataro asked, sensing what was going on.

"I have a very experienced aide and fifteen lab assistants ready to work on the project. Equipment may be more difficult but my aide assures we can get it."

"Don't worry about the equipment. I'll see that you get everything you need," Lataro said with a wink. "In fact, I think I can get you closer to an appropriate test area."
 _____________________________________

Location: Portanus V

"Personal Journal of Major Johnny Chee, SFMC: Day 552. I don't believe it!!! These insane bastards have built an airplane on their own!!!

"It's not much of an airplane, maybe two steps ahead of what the Wright Brothers were flying, but it's a working aircraft. In fact, they've got four of them, and they're developing more advanced models. I never thought we'd
have anything like air support available for our defense plan! I'd developed observation balloons, but heavier-than-air vehicles never figured into my plans. That'll teach me to underestimate the Portanans!

"I just hope the T'rais also underestimate them as badly. They probably will. They tend to think anyone who isn't them is inferior. But if they can build an airplane, they can build an internal combustion engine. They can
build a lot of things now. Railroads, ocean-going vessels, tanks: the possibilities are endless!

"But we must be cautious. This engine runs on petroleum distillates and doesn't even have the most minimal environmental controls. Granted that's secondary concern at the moment, but I don't want them to be saddled with problems farther down the line. As soon as we can we need to start working on renewable energy sources. "That's not my issue for now, though. I am a head of state in name only, just as I had intended. The Parliament is doing its job quite well; they argue and bicker and assassinate one another's character just like
politicians anywhere else, except maybe Vulcan, but the important business of state is getting accomplished. That means I can go about being a field officer and keep these people from getting killed. "Maybe. It's still an iffy proposition at best. With all the hardware I've got now, and the training and the preparation at every level that first Vinzi and now I have implemented, the Portanans would be able to stand up to even a modern T'rais attack force. Granted our air support is minimal and we have absolutely no hope of producing even a jet engine, let alone an impulse engine at this point for an interceptor, but our surface-to-air systems are doing better. The Alchemists, Glassblowers, and, finally, the Jewelers were able to develop yet another surprise-vacuum tube-based electrical components! Zdeev's been reading some of the old texts and has managed to teach himself the basics of electronics. He's starting to teach others. I think we'll have to start an Electronics Guild soon. Once we can get a few more trained technicians maybe we can have wire-guided missile systems now that the Jewelers know that gold can be used for things besides jewelry and wire isn't just decorative. Not very accurate, and not very powerful, but enough to give us at least a fighting chance!

"But we'll need Changing Woman, the Warrior Twins, the Unknown, all the Bajoran Prophets and the Virgin of Guadeloupe on our side in case modern T'rais decide to bring in a nuclear weapon."
 _____________________________________

Johnny saw the latest dispatches from his scouting parties. The T'rais were raiding farther into Flor territory. In the past week two villages had been completely burned and their inhabitants slaughtered. An emissary Johnny
had sent to the T'rais had been sent back, completely skinned alive. All indications were that the T'rais were mobilizing a force of their own and preparing to drive toward Flor.

*It's happening. Are we ready?* Johnny thought. His plan had been purely defensive. Had the T'rais been content to maintain their enclave, and live and farm and do whatever they do in peace, Johnny would have left them alone. But history had shown otherwise. Whenever they had the opportunity, the T'rais raided into Flor territory, destroying and butchering anything in their path. Every attempt Johnny had made to talk with them, the latest dead envoy was the sixth of a series, was met with violence.

*Enough is enough! Let's get this over with!* Johnny decided.

Zdeev entered Johnny's office. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes, sit down, please. You've been with me since the first day I was aware I was here. I don't know how long I was unconscious before I woke up in that slave pit. You've been of immeasurable help to me. You taught me to read the language of this world, and acquainted me with its customs. Your professional skills are without parallel, and you've mastered a number of trades that didn't exist here a year ago.

"I can trust you farther than I can trust anyone else on this planet. So I'm going to tell you a few things I've told no one else."

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Zdeev answered.

"First of all, my full name is Johnny Chee. I belong to an organization  called Starfleet, which represents a political entity called the United Federation of Planets: dozens of worlds united in common cause for trade, mutual defense, intellectual discourse, and the exploration of the universe around us. Before I came here I traveled in a vessel amongst the stars, named the *USS Virgo* after a constellation visible from my home planet, Earth. Earth is so far from Portanus, our name for your world, that light from our sun would take over thirteen thousand years to reach here. That's at the old figure for the speed of light, not the new one we recently calculated.

"The old figure is correct throughout the universe in general, although it can vary locally. Here it's one hundred eighty times faster than in the space surrounding your solar system. There is a reason why this is so.

"According to your history the Ghann, my people call them the T'rais, the name they use for themselves, invaded over a thousand years ago, leaving a crater on your planet right about here," Johnny said, indicating a point on the map behind him. That point was the center of a huge city. Flor lay nearby, then little more than a small village. "That crater was created by a weapon so powerful and destructive I hope you never ever have to
experience its fury. My own world suffered such a conflict, fought with thousands of these weapons, four centuries ago. Were it not for the intervention of an older and wiser race called the Vulcans we would never have survived that period. Even with their help it was a close-run thing.

"I would like to tell you that my role here is the same as the Vulcans' role in helping my world, but truthfully I cannot. As you saw with Baron Kelto, there are people in any society who are willing to sell short its ideals.
There are people who want to do that to your world in my society. I was asked to help them and refused. They tried to kill me, and when they failed, they abandoned me here.

"I should let you know that not everyone in the Federation or Starfleet is as duplicitous. Jenara, my wife, is a Starfleet officer, and what she knows of science would make my own knowledge look positively pathetic! There are many fine men and women of many different races who work together and serve the cause of justice. The reason I tell you this is that some elements of Starfleet may try to coerce your people into serving them. Normally joining the Federation is a lengthy process involving formal diplomatic contacts, a treaty, and a vote by our Senate. Unless this process is the one they describe to you, do not join the Federation!"

"Can't you talk with them? Won't they listen to you?" Zdeev asked.

"These elements think I'm dead. In any case, any negotiation I make on your behalf would be in bad faith. You're the most qualified on this world to speak with any Federation envoy. To that end, I've resigned as Dictator. The Nobles and the Commoners asked for my recommendation as a successor, bypassing the process I proposed, but theirs is the will of the people, and I recommended you," Johnny told him. "You set up our communications system. You've read every book I've read; some of them you read to me. You were a member of the Clerk's Guild and founded the Electronics Guild. And you've helped me in critical negotiations with the nobles, the commoners, and the sextons. And besides, you have the moral fiber for the job. If anyone is
qualified to lead your people now, you are!"

Zdeev looked shocked. "And their response?"

"The vote was unanimous. Congratulations, you're the new Dictator of Flor! Now, let's go address your people!"

Johnny and Zdeev walked to the Great Hall. The assembled Parliament rose as he entered and applauded!

"I've never had anything like this in my life!" Zdeev whispered to Johnny.

"Enjoy it while you can! It won't always be this easy!"

Zdeev stood at the pulpit at the head of the Great Hall, backed by the banners of all the nobles and of all the guilds.

"Thank you, esteemed Parliament. I thank you for the great honor you have bestowed upon me.

"The past few months have seen many exciting changes. The overthrow of the treacherous Baron Kelto, the introduction of various and sundry innovations to make the lives of everyone easier, and the means to finally rid ourselves of the demons that have infested our planet for the past thousand years! For this, we have one man to thank, our previous Dictator and Wizard, the foreigner Johnny.

"As many of you know, I owe Johnny a tremendous personal debt. His actions saved my life and that of my wife Taya and son Tri. My son, unfortunately, was killed by Baron Kelto," Zdeev paused as the assembly booed and jeered the traitor's name, "but his memory, and the love of my wife, have carried me through many difficult changes. We men do not acknowledge our women nearly enough, and that is something we need to work on. Henceforth, as my first order as Dictator I decree that all free women of the age of majority have all the same rights, privileges, and responsibilities as free men of the age of majority. Any slave woman who is freed shall likewise have these rights. Further, women may no longer be bought and sold as wives, slaves, or chattel and may follow their own judgment. This order shall be implemented immediately. Taya, if you would be so kind as to join me?"

Taya rushed forward and embraced her husband. The Parliament was dumbfounded. Then they cheered again.

"You accepted Johnny's changes and eccentricities because he was a foreigner. But what he is, is what we should strive to be!" Zdeev continued.

*For their own sake, I hope not!* Johnny thought.

"We must be men and women of enlightenment and virtue, of unimpeachable character. We must adhere to the precepts of the Great Text in all our dealings with others. One of those precepts is that injustice must be avenged. We've all lost someone either directly or indirectly to the Ghann. This has been going on for generation upon generation and it must stop now!!! All our preparations are in order. As my second order as Dictator I declare war upon the Ghann! We have achieved the goals Sexton Larii outlined for us over four hundred years ago. We have not fully achieved the heights of the Glorious Age but we are moving rapidly in that direction. Now it's time to avenge the injustice done to our people.

The Parliament cheered. *Oh, shit!* Johnny thought. Not that he wasn't expecting this.

"Johnny has told me many things about the worlds beyond our own: that the Ghann are not actually demons but are invaders from another world, just as Johnny himself came to us from another world far away. And I've read our ancient texts and have learned other things. That at one time we were actually preparing to join both the Ghann and Johnny's people among the stars. We had built a great engine that would permit us to cross the gulf of stars in less time than it would take to travel from Flor to the Great Sea. It was this engine that drew the Ghann, not because it was evil, but because they feared our competition! And I promise you that we shall achieve these heights once again! How, and when, will be up to our own efforts. And first we must drive away the Ghann. But it will happen, and when it does, we shall take our rightful place amongst the stars!" Again Parliament cheered, but whether or not they understood that Zdeev was not speaking metaphorically Johnny didn't know.

"As my third order, and to help us achieve these aims, I hereby appoint Johnny as General of the Armies of Flor, and co-head of the Soldier's Guild," Zdeev continued.

*A good political move,* Johnny thought. He'd met Waratz, the head of the Soldier's Guild, and found him to be very knowledgeable about both leadership and combat, and a man of unimpeachable integrity. Once Kelto's
duplicity had been revealed, Waratz and the entire Soldier's Guild switched loyalties to Johnny. Even if the arrangement had been reversed Johnny would have willingly served under Waratz.

"And finally, as my fourth order: the title Dictator, as my reading has shown me, carries with it certain negative connotations connected to a lust for power and self-aggrandizement. Therefore, I shall be addressed from this moment on as King, and all future leaders of Flor shall be so addressed, except that women who rule, and there may be some, someday, shall be called Queen. Now, let's get to work! We've got a world to win back!" Zdeev concluded.

*I should have thought of that,* Johnny thought. *A monarch, and a constitutional monarch at that, has a much better shot at negotiating for entry into the Federation than someone who openly calls himself a dictator, no matter what the tradition is! The future of Portanus V is in good hands, provided we survive this war!*
 _____________________________________

The *Dawn,* with Lataro at the controls and carrying Jenara, Bortu, and a platoon of fully-equipped Marines, left the *Virgo's* shuttle bay. Ostensibly, this was a scientific research mission with fourteen extra personnel detailed from Security to assist with any possible needs of the Science staff.

In reality, it was a rescue mission. A race against time.

"Sir, we're closing on the Portanus system. ETA seven minutes at current speed and heading," Bortu informed Lataro.

"Thank you, Ensign. Jenara, is your instrument array ready?" Lataro asked.

"Ready when you are."

"Initiate the anti-chronoton beam."

"Aye, sir!" Jenara said. She tapped a control on a panel and a blue-white beam shot forth from an external pod on the runabout. The beam was targeted on an exact location on Portanus V, given to Jenara by Kalmar as the exact location of the temporal anomaly. Nothing visible happened.

"Readings indicate that all physical constants within the Portanus system are identical to those in the surrounding space," Jenara reported. "It looks like it worked!"

"All right, then! Let's saddle up," Lataro said. "Mr. Bortu, set a course for Portanus V, maximum warp!"

"Aye, sir!"

An alarm sounded. "Sir, T'rais vessel located off the port bow: 290 Mark 8, distance 500,000 kilometers. I count one vessel, a heavy assault transport. It's badly damaged but still operational!" Bortu reported, an edge of
panic in his voice.

"Steady, Ensign. We knew they were coming. Let's get this done quickly!