"Lieutenant, this is highly unusual. There are proper channels for this sort of thing."

"I'm sorry to bother you, Admiral Bates, but it's of extreme importance."

Bates frowned and leaned back in his chair. "All right, Lieutenant, let's hear it."

"Sir, I need a chance to present my findings on the Dravic to the Federation council," began Nicot, "The Intelligence Oversight Committee dismissed my report without full understanding."

Bates stayed silent.

"I know what I'm asking for is a big deal--but I need to get someone to understand the threat here--that the Dravic are not 'contained' as Channing put it."

Bates remained silent for a moment longer, looking directly at Nicot. "I've gone through your report, Mr. Nicot. And if I thought the Council would listen, I'd help you, but they won't."

"But--"

"Lieutenant, you have to understand that we just finished a very costly, very long, very bloody war. The Federation Council is not going to want to proactively deal with any threat, regardless where it comes from or how severe." Bates put his hand up, silencing Nicot's attempt to interrupt. "The Federation is, by nature, a peaceful organization. Right now, the Council Members and the President are looking at their political careers with a great deal of worry--they're not going to act until the Dravic come at us with everything they have."

Nicot frowned. "There's got to be someone who will listen."

"I'm listening right now, Lieutenant. If I didn't agree with your assessment of the Dravic, we wouldn't be here discussing it now," answered Bates. "Our best hope right now is that the Trojan Horse proves successful and its technology is integrated into the fleet before the Dravic can recoup their losses."

"And if it's too late?"

"Then God help us all, Lieutenant," replied Bates solemnly. "I assure you that I have a good deal of attention focused on the Dravic frontier. It would be best if you stopped ruffling so many feathers and went back to your duties."

Nicot was still scowling as he stood up.

"I mean it, Lieutenant. No Admiral likes to be told by a junior officer that they're wrong--it's not the kind of thing that will help your career. I'll do what I can, when I can, but right now, that's the best you're going to get."

Nicot's expression softened. "All right, sir, I'll cooperate. If Rojc trusts you, then I guess I can too. Thank you for your time."

Bates was lightly amused. "Certainly, Lieutenant. Just don't forget that I'll expect you to stay current on the Dravic--right now, you're the only expert Starfleet has on them, and that may mean significantly more in the near future."

"Aye sir."

Bates nodded and Nicot left.

"Rojc trains his officers well--Mr. Nicot may prove to be an excellent candidate..." Bates mused to himself. He thought for a moment longer before turning back to his work.

Knight arrived at Iv'Oor's quarters and gulped in a breath of air. He paused for a moment as he thought out his words--the moment passed and Knight was still unsure. Granted, he hadn't dated in years, but he was certain that Melina had shown a fair amount of interest in pursuing a relationship. Knight swallowed. It was important to him that he rebuild his shattered life, but was this the place to start? Xanthus's mind raced with thoughts, primarily trying to remember if it had ever been this difficult for him to approach Jennifer, his wife.

Knight's musings were abruptly halted when the door to Melina's quarters slid open.

"Oh! Hello, Sir. Were you coming to see me about something?" asked Iv'Oor innocently.

"Errr..." Knight cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, I was. I have some news on the Phantom, and seeing as how you're the Chief Helm Officer, I thought I'd get your feedback."

"Well, I was just about to go eat dinner--"

"Perfect! I haven't had dinner yet myself. Why don't I join you?" Knight mentally crossed his fingers; it wasn't much, but it was an opening, nonetheless.

Iv'Oor smiled. "It would be my pleasure, Sir."

"We're off duty now--please, call me Xanthus, Lieutenant." He smiled back.

"As long as we're off-duty, then please call me Melina."

"All right, Melina." Knight nodded and gestured. "After you."

Rojc groaned as he plopped down in the pilot's chair of his runabout. Four hours of calling around, and no one was able to give him any concrete information about what was happening with the Phantom. The biggest waste of his time had easily been the Yard Supervisor, however. It was no wonder that bureaucracy backups plagued Antares. He shook his head tiredly and began powering up the runabout. "Back to Starbase 7, I guess," Rojc thought to himself.

The runabout lifted-off and began its gradual clearing of Shipyard space. During those few minutes, Rojc remembered that there was a message from Senishra for him. "Computer--interface with the Station's computer and download all messages for Rojc, Lieutenant Commander Dade."

The computer chirped in response to the command. It was only a moment longer before it finished its task and responded, "Transfer complete. There are two new messages."

"Display message from Commander Senishra."

The computer once again chirped and an instant later, Senishra's image appeared on the display console screen.

"Greetings, Dade. I am unsure when you will receive this message, but when you do, please rendezvous with me on Vulcan. I will explain further upon your arrival." The message ended with Senishra smiling.

Vague, even for Senishra, but Rojc thought nothing of it. He shrugged. "Computer--set course for planet Vulcan, warp five."

Arona Illysa strolled through a green meadow, her long-time friend Colonel Lee Jaden at her side.

"It was a shame to learn about Sisko's death, Starfleet is going to be hurting for that much longer due to his loss," asserted Arona.

"You speak the truth, Illysa. The Emissary was truly a great man."

Arona rolled her eyes. "Please, Jaden--don't bring the Prophets into this. Its such a beautiful day, I'd rather not argue religion."

Lee nodded lightly, "Fair enough. I know you don't like to hear it, but I hope someday that you will allow the Prophets back into your life."

Arona responded with a dirty look and opened her mouth to protest. Lee stopped her by putting his hand over her mouth. "Okay, okay, I'm dropping it." He smiled and withdrew his hand. "It has been so long since we last saw each other--how do you like your latest assignment so far?"

"Its been...irritating," answered Arona, "Sixth months of shake-down, one mind-boggling mission that boiled down to saber-rattling, and another couple months back in dry dock."

Lee laughed. "If you find it so bad of an assignment, why not request a transfer?"

Arona shook her head. "I've spent months grooming that medical staff--that and the potential for research utilizing the Phantom's laboratories is too tempting to let go."

"It must be fascinating for you," remarked Lee. "Certainly must be better than chasing down Pagh-Wraith terrorists."

"Still?"

"They are insidious," spat Lee, "One would think that with all their recent defeats and embarrassments, people would turn away from the false gods. Instead they have become even more fervent--more violent."

"As long as you are leading the charge against them, Bajor has nothing to worry about." Arona smiled sweetly.

"Your confidence is reassuring." Lee smiled back.

Arona leaned against Lee and the two continued on in silence.

It was roughly a day later that Senishra sat starring at the desert landscape from her home on Vulcan. Despite the magnitude of the situation at hand, she was still managing to keep up her stoic facade. Worry, guilt, and more worry plagued Senishra as she sat in contemplative silence. A lone figure walked slowly up on her from behind.

"It is time, my daughter. The ceremony can be postponed no longer."

"Father, I can not go through with this." Senishra struggled not to frown.

Senishra's father placed a hand on Senishra's shoulder. "You must, daughter. You know the consequences if you do not."

Senishra remained achingly silent.

"Come now. We must not keep the High Priestess waiting any longer."

"He still has not arrived," Senishra whispered in response. She shed a single tear.

"Your love for this man is deep," returned Senishra's father, a tone of disapproval of his daughter's emotions creeping into his voice, "But time has run out. You must do what you have to, daughter. It is the burden we all bear."

Not saying a word, Senishra reluctantly stood up. She and her father started into the desert.

Guitarrez grunted as the computer console beeped at her again.

"Access Denied."

She dropped to the ground, narrowly averting a phaser beam.

"Damn it!" Guitarrez cursed and tapped her comm-badge, "Bridge--shut down the security program!"

"We can't, sir," came the delayed response, "We've got about a half-dozen holo-drones keeping us pinned."

"Thanks for nothing, Bridge. Engineering out." Guitarrez crawled out from under the console she was hiding under. "Someone get me a phaser and cover me!"

A moment later, Ensign Sto'cha came flying over the console, followed closely by a phaser blast. "Here Chief," she gasped, handing Guitarrez a phaser.

"Gracias, Sto'cha." Guitarrez paused, peering around the edge of the console. "Now do me a favor and draw that drone's fire. I'm taking down the holo-grid one way or the other."

The Caitian grumbled, but sprang to her feet nevertheless. At that same instant, Guitarrez took a running leap towards a nearby conduit. Phaser blasts narrowly missed each of the officers as they quickly returned to cover.

Guitarrez scrambled to her knees and took off crawling down the conduit. When she emerged on the other end, the holo-grid control center was in sight. Mindful of further holo-drones, the Chief remained in the conduit and took aim.

Her phaser blast squarely hit the intended target, but did no damage--a forcefield was in place. Guitarrez was going to have a few choice words for Rojc when he got back.

Acting on impulse, Guitarrez picked a new target and fired. Without its primary re-routing station, the ODN power relay system crashed and the Phantom's lights dimmed.

"Warning! Severe power loss to all shipboard functions. Terminating all non-essential programs."

Guitarrez sighed tiredly and leaned against the side of the conduit. She waited a moment longer before finally getting up and leaving the conduit--the drones were gone.

"Thank God Rojc listened to me about that one," Guitarrez uttered to no one in particular. The Chief accessed the nearest console--the security program was merely suspended. Thankfully her security clearance now allowed her to purge all memory.

"Sto'cha! Sanas! Adams! I need all the help I can get in here now!" Guitarrez frowned and looked up at the destroyed ODN re-router. Oh yes, Rojc was going to hear about this...

It was later that afternoon before Senishra and the rest of the participants finally had arrived at the ceremonial grounds. The Vulcan High Priestess, T'Pel sat upon her mighty throne; Senishra stood to her left, while her husband-to-be, Lon stood to T'Pel's right; a few guards stood at the perimeter of the surrounding structure.

"Are we ready to proceed with the ceremony?" asked T'Pel, primarily directed at Senishra.

"Yes," nodded Senishra. Lon responded similarly, but obviously suffering from the symptoms of the Plak Tow of which he was rapidly descending into.

"Good." T'Pel stood. "Let the ceremony commence!"

At that moment, the whine of a transporter interrupted. A lone figure in a Starfleet uniform materialized not far from where Senishra stood.

"Dade!" Senishra was nearly shouting. She quickly composed herself and turned back to T'Pel. "I challenge my Koon-ut-kal-if-fee to Lon."

Lon stared at both Senishra and the newcomer in disbelief.

"I choose Dade Rojc as my champion."

It was Rojc's turn to stare in disbelief. He regarded the Vulcans around him, particularly noticing Senishra's gaze of happiness and the murderous rage within the male Vulcan's eyes at her side.

"He is an outsider," responded T'Pel coolly, "His place is not here."

"But it has been done in the past--"

T'Pel silenced Senishra and slowly approached Rojc, taking a moment to observe him. "You are an outsider, Dade Rojc."

Rojc's mind was strangely calm. He had a vague idea what was going on here--he should have been more surprised than he was. Rojc looked the aging Vulcan priestess directly in the eye and quietly nodded.

"Senishra has named you her champion; requested your involvement in one of the most sacred of Vulcan rites. Do you accept the request?"

With all but the briefest of thought, Rojc responded firmly. "Yes, I accept."

T'Pel observed Rojc for an instant more before abruptly breaking eye contact and turning around. She slowly made way back to the throne.

Rojc simultaneously changed his glance to rest on Senishra, who flashed him a smile that clearly confirmed Rojc's thoughts about what was happening.

T'Pel once again began to speak, "As the traditions dictate, as the challenger, Dade Rojc, you must fight Lon to the death."

'To the death' left Rojc slightly unnerved, but not enough for him to speak out just yet. He glanced from T'Pel to Lon, who was now almost completely lost in the Plak Tow.

Two Vulcan guards approached, each handing a lirpa to Lon and Rojc. Senishra and the guards backed off from the two as they stood starring at each other.

"Begin!" barked T'Pel.

Rojc took a defensive posture and began circling his opponent while he formulated his plan. He was certainly stronger than a Vulcan, so not killing Lon shouldn't be a problem. Lon made the first move.

Rojc easily side-stepped the powerful lunge, tripping-up his opponent while he stood back and further observed his behavior--reckless, brute--but not without the calculated cunning of the Vulcan. Dade continued to circle, closely watching Lon to predict his next move.

Lon approached far less recklessly than his first lunge. His lirpa clanged against Rojc's. The sheer strength of the force from that blow slightly disadvantaged Rojc's footing--obviously Lon would be a much greater challenge than he had originally surmised. The Vulcan pressed his temporary advantage and threw all his strength into causing Rojc to fall backwards--he took aim with his weapon and prepared to deliver the killing blow.

Rojc had been prepared for this maneuver, however. He deftly rolled out of the way of death strike and his foot connected with Lon's knee, bringing the large Vulcan to the ground. Rojc rolled further out of range and quickly leapt to his feet.

Lon recovered quicker than Rojc expected and was also standing. He took a quick swipe at Rojc, catching him lightly on his left arm. Dade reacted quickly with his own weapon and swept upward with the blunt side, catching Lon's right hand. Rojc further twisted the weapon and Lon's lirpa flew from his grasp.

Knowing full well the dangers of engaging the enraged Vulcan hand-to-hand, Dade threw his weapon away and once again took up a defensive posturing. Lon came barreling towards Rojc, dealing him a glancing blow to the right side of his head. Dade whirled and firmly grabbed Lon's left arm--Rojc's knee connected with Lon's elbow in a sickening crack.

Lon howled in pain and picked up a discarded lirpa. He swung it menacingly at Rojc, who successfully dodged the razor-sharp blade. Dade counter-attacked by leaping into the air and solidly kicking Lon in the head.

The lirpa once again left Lon's grasp as he tumbled to the ground. Dade followed up instantly with a right-cross, knocking Lon unconscious. Rojc picked up the fallen lirpa and aimed it menacingly at Lon, but instead of the delivering the killing blow, simply remained standing over Lon.

"What are you waiting for?" snapped T'Pel, "Finish him."
Rojc eased his stance and stood staring at the unconscious Vulcan at his feet. As he sensed T'Pel ready to speak again, Rojc straightened up and looked directly at the Vulcan priestess, throwing his lirpa away. "He is beaten--the effects of the Pon Farr will be out of his system when he re-awakens--I have fulfilled my purpose here."

T'Pel stared icily at Rojc. "He would not grant you the same courtesy if your roles were reversed."

"I do not kill a man for no reason," replied Rojc, "There is no logical reason why he must die at the hands of an opponent with his faculties intact."

"Perhaps, Dade Rojc," retorted T'Pel. "One last thing remains in the ceremony, then. Dade Rojc--do you wish to release Senishra?"

Rojc needed almost no time to make his decision. "No."

T'Pel turned to Senishra, who was trying her hardest to not display her euphoria. "I rechristen thee, T'Senishra." T'Pel raised her arms. "I pronounce this ceremony's end."

With that, T'Pel stepped down from the throne and exited the arena. The Vulcan guards did the same after picking up the unconscious Lon. Rojc and T'Senishra stood alone, looking at each other silently.

T'Senishra let go of her control and rushed into Rojc's waiting arms. For the first time since they had met, the two kissed passionately, finally expressing the love that existed between them for years. As the kiss broke, no words were needed between the two--the moment was perfect for them as it was.

They stood for a moment longer, gazing into each other's eyes before leaving the arena, tenderly holding hands.

Ý

Rojc and T'Senishra finally arrived at T'Senishra's parents' home shortly before nightfall. Her father stood waiting for his daughter's return on the home's southern balcony--he was mildly surprised by what he saw: T'Senishra in the arms of a non-Vulcan dressed in a Starfleet officer's uniform. T'Senishra's parents sat waiting in the forward room as Dade and T'Senishra entered.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence as T'Senishra's parents were speechless and Dade didn't know quite what to say.

"Mother, Father, this is my husband, Dade," T'Senishra gestured to Rojc, who nodded politely. "Dade, my parents: T'Sora and Solvar."

T'Senishra's parents rose simultaneously. "We are pleased to see that your beloved arrived, daughter," began Solvar, "Our greetings to you, Dade Rojc. Our daughter has told us much about you."

"It is my pleasure to meet the both of you," responded Rojc solemnly.

T'Sora eyed Rojc. "And what of Lon?" she asked, directed at T'Senishra.

"Dade rendered him unconscious to claim victory, nothing more," replied T'Senishra, mildly irritated by the question.

T'Sora abruptly left the room after her daughter answered her question.

"Please understand, Dade, my wife is not as supporting of your relationship as I am," apologized Solvar. "I have prepared a room for you and my daughter upon the possibility of your arrival. T'Senishra can lead you to it." Solvar raised his hand in Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper."

Rojc nodded and returned the greeting accordingly. "Peace and long life."

The elder Vulcan left, leaving Rojc and T'Senishra once again alone.

T'Senishra turned to Dade, her eyes beginning to water. "My mother...does not approve of our relationship. She thinks it is too emotionally based."

Dade quieted her. "It's okay, I understand." He held her closely, comforting her.

T'Senishra looked up into her husband's eyes. "And that is why I love you Dade."

Rojc only smiled warmly back at her. Maybe it would only last a brief instant, but his life had finally achieved perfection. "So is there supposed to be some Vulcan ritual we undergo now?" he asked after a moment longer of reflection.

T'Senishra smiled mysteriously and grabbed Dade's hand. "I was wondering how much longer it would take you to ask that."

As far as Xanthus Knight was concerned, things couldn't be going better between him and Melina. The previous night's dinner went marvelously--after the initial few moments of awkward small talk, he and Melina began to chat as if they had known each other for years. In fact, they had gotten so caught up in their own conversation that Knight never actually remembered to bring up his news about the Phantom. It was late before either he or Iv'Oor remembered, which prompted them to mutually agree on dinner together the next night.

Which brought him to tonight. Things were again going great, so Knight certainly didn't want to bring work into the conversation. Except that he said he had work to discuss with her and it was under that pretense that he found himself in Iv'Oor's company.

Knight frowned to himself and waited for a lull in the conversation before bringing anything up. "The Phantom!" Knight said abruptly, acting as if he had just remembered. "We almost talked our way past it again!" he added with a grin.

"So we did," Melina responded, grinning, "Enough with the suspense, tell me the news already."

"Well," Xanthus began, "She's officially being released from dry dock in a week and being returned to active duty."

"That's great!" Iv'Oor replied. "Sitting here on starbase duty has been getting annoying--it'll be great to be back out on the frontier."

"You don't know how many officers I've talked to who prefer a ship posting to starbase duty," Xanthus chuckled. "And there's more news. Accordingly, the Phantom has a new commanding officer--me."

Iv'Oor was suddenly not quite as enthusiastic. "Congratulations on your command, Xanthus." She was almost grimacing.

Knight near-frowned. "What?" he asked, wondering what the cause of Melina's sudden mood change was.

Melina bit her lip. "It's nothing."

Now Knight was frowning.

Iv'Oor sighed. "Dade--I mean, Commander Rojc isn't going to be happy about this at all. As I'm sure you're aware, he doesn't like you very much."

Xanthus nodded. "Actually, Admiral Bates already took that into consideration--Commander Rojc is getting a promotion and re-assignment elsewhere."

Now it was Melina's turn to frown. "Oh dear."

"Not the reaction I was hoping for," Knight said. "Am I correct in assuming that he's been very...protective of his posting on the Phantom?"

"More than anything else," replied Iv'Oor. "He turned down almost a dozen first officer postings to be on the Phantom. Can't say I blame him either--she really is a great ship. Add in the fact that he essentially oversaw day-to-day operations for several months, thus shaping the crew around him and you begin to get an idea of the magnitude of which Dade takes pride in his posting."

"So he's not going to go without a fight?"

Iv'Oor nodded. "A fight he'll ultimately lose and he knows it. Captain is obviously more important that Chief of Security and Tactical Ops."

"Then my question to you becomes, what about yourself and Nicot?" inquired Knight.

Iv'Oor thought for a moment before responding. "Nicot--it's hard to say. I imagine for him this is going to be much the same as it was when Rojc left the Excelsior--stay on and take over or follow. At this point I'd tend to say that Nicot will go where ever Rojc goes." She paused. "As for me..." Melina trailed off.

Knight lifted his arms up and shrugged. "I understand totally. Both friendship and the Omega Team link."

She shook her head. "No, it's not that really. I can't say I'm actually at a point where I'll choose to follow. Granted there's a great deal of loyalty involved here, but I have my career to think about as well. Nicot'll get his promotion either way, no doubt, whereas if I follow, there's almost no chance I'd advance."

Knight again frowned to himself. "And that ends the entertainment portion of our evening." Xanthus yawned. "I'd like to thank you for your feedback and your honesty, Melina." He took a moment to stretch. "But it's getting kind of late, so I guess I'll call it a night."

Melina wasn't quite sure how to respond. This was exactly why she had avoided the topic the night before--she didn't want to screw up her chances with Knight. She wasn't even sure she wanted to pursue this relationship, especially amidst the latest news--but that could just be Rojc's judgment affecting her. Should she let him go? Ask him to stay? Melina didn't want to seem over-eager. So tough to make the choice with only a few seconds to decide.

She reached out and held Knight's arm. "Please, let's not let work spoil the evening; stay a while longer."

It was all the urging Xanthus needed. "You're right." He lifted his glass. "A toast to the Phantom--may her future be bright."

Melina smiled and toasted. "So what were we discussing before...?"