"Captain's Log, Stardate 51897.07. The Phantom is now clear of the Delta Tomgren sector and back inside Federation space. As per our last communication with Starfleet Command, we are returning to Starbase 7 where the SIC will deal with Dr. Reily and our debriefing."

"As a closing note, all damage the ship has recently sustained has been dealt with in a timely and efficient matter by Commander Guitarrez and her staff. The Phantom stands at full capability. End log."

Captain Xanthus Knight sat comfortably behind the desk in his ready room, listening intently as Vice-Admiral Michael Bates spoke via the subspace communication.

"...no worries, Captain. Doctor Reily's protest won't get further than my report after I dismiss it."

Knight nodded his head politely. "Thank you for the reassurance, Sir."

"My pleasure, Captain," replied Bates. "But I suspect you have another reason for this communication other than to preemptively brief me on the Phantom's repair status."

"Am I really that obvious?" Knight inquired lightly.

"Yes."

Knight winced. Bates wasn't one to mince words. "I was wondering if perhaps we could speak about the Phantom's next assignment."

"I wasn't aware one had yet been assigned, Captain."

Knight continued without acknowledging the Admiral's sarcasm. "Admiral, I think that if our last mission was any indication, the Orion Syndicate is starting to get a little too bold. As I said when you assigned command of the Phantom to me, I want to take the Syndicate down."

"That's going to be no easy task, Captain. I'll remind you once again that the Phantom is not under SIC jurisdiction. But I suspect you already have an idea..."

"I do," Knight offered, "I want to reassemble my old Intelligence Unit and then base them permanently on the Phantom, much as I did with the Monitor."

As was his standard practice, Bates did not reply immediately.

Knight hoped he could sell his plan. "I'm well aware that I've been out of the field for a significant amount of time, but I believe I'm fully capable of catching up, especially so if my team is brought back together. I'd also be picking up with some invaluable insights into the Syndicate that I acquired when I was with the Maquis."

"And let me guess--by this you hope to push the Phantom to full SIC jurisdiction, like you did with the Monitor."

"Err...that's the general idea."

"Then I believe that you and I will get along quite well, Captain," replied Bates with a grin, "Draw up a proposal along with replacements for the team members that have moved on by the time Phantom arrives at Starbase 7 and I'll see to it that it gets acted upon immediately."

"Thank you Admiral. I'll get to work on the proposal immediately then."

Bates smiled and nodded reassuringly. "Acknowledged Captain, Bates out."

Knight promptly changed his chair's position and set to work calling up the SIC Database. He had much work ahead of himself.

Commander Dade Rojc greeted his wife with a gentle kiss after the doors to their joint quarters closed. "Science Department running behind schedule again, 'Nish?"

"You know I don't like that nickname," the Vulcan First Officer T'Senishra responded, half-seriously. "One of Lieutenant Marcad's 'harmless' pranks accidentally encrypted half of the Stellar Cartography lab's main library. I begin to question my wisdom in bringing him onto my team."

"I pity him when Performance Reviews come around," chuckled Dade. He walked into the next room, removing his uniform along the way.

T'Senishra sighed frustratedly and paused as she stared out into space through the window. Absently she placed the PADD she was reviewing on a near-by table and steeled her demeanor. "Dade, we need to talk."

"About what?" he called from the next room. He fidgeted around in the closet looking for a comfortable shirt to put on. Contrary to popular belief, Commander Rojc neither lived in his uniform nor liked how it looked or felt. When T'Senishra didn't respond, he hastily grabbed a loose T-shirt and put it on.

"What's the matter?" Dade asked with concern, emerging from the bedroom.

A frown creased T'Senishra's delicate features. She remained silent as she searched for the right words.

Dade was becoming more concerned by the minute. T'Senishra was normally quite forthright. "T'Senishra, you told me back on Vulcan that even though the nature of our relationship had changed, you didn't want how we related to each other to change. Now come on, don't mince words--out with it."

"My husband," T'Senishra began quietly.

Dade winced at the address; even though they had been married only a few months, that beginning usually meant the discussion that followed would not be about good news.

"I am...concerned...that you have become too emotionally attached to me," she uttered. "Perhaps it was wrong of me to presume you were ready for this advance in our relationship."

Rojc slowly sat down on the couch facing T'Senishra. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

"To date you have addressed me informally in public fifty-seven times, thirty-nine of those occurrences while we were on duty. On thirty-two occasions, you have shown signs of affection towards me in public," T'Senishra continued, "I have also noted a six percent drop in your efficiency while I am on the Bridge and that you have engaged in less training exercises with your security teams. Furthermore you have more and more frequently been avoiding others that have shown past romantic interest in you, such as Melina and Ensign Sto'cha."

Only a Vulcan, Dade mused to himself. "T'Senishra--"

She stopped him abruptly. "Dade, you are compromising your cultural norm and your duties while failing to control your emotion."

Dade opened his mouth to protest.

T'Senishra shook her head. "I realize I do not act like the typical Vulcan, but I am Vulcan nonetheless, Dade. You should know by now that I do not like excess emotion, especially in public. What is more important, your emotion tends to be...infectious"

Dade rubbed his forehead in an attempt to rid himself of the building headache. "T'Senishra, I think you're overreacting."

She shot him something of a glare held in check.

That was definitely the wrong thing to say, Rojc winced.

"I am not 'overreacting'," she replied raising her voice. "I am both aware that Angosians are usually not monogamous and that you have never been in a serious relationship such as ours before. You also once told me that your career is the single most important thing in your life--"

"I lied," he interrupted, "You are the most important thing in my life."

T'Senishra closed her eyes and shook her head, repressing a smile. She should have seen that coming. "Dade--"

"All right, all right, you've made your point. What's your solution?"

"I would like you to undergo Vulcan mental discipline. I believe its effects will benefit you outside of our relationship as well."

"If its that important to you, I'll do it," answered Rojc, "But I still get to call you 'Nish..." He grinned.

Nicot groaned tiredly as he entered his darkened quarters. Rojc's training sessions may be fewer now, but they were just as exhausting as they always had been.

He threw his utility case and towel onto a nearby couch and entered his bedroom, not bothering to undress as he flopped onto the bed. He made a quick effort to re-arrange the sheets and blankets, as he had not made the bed this morning. However, he quickly decided it was futile; Nicot just wanted to sleep.

Nicot had finally relaxed and just begun to drift off to sleep, when he was suddenly re-awakened by a transporter beam grabbing hold of him.

The transporter sequence was unusually quick and in a matter of moments, Nicot had rematerialized...elsewhere. Wherever he had been beamed to, it was completely dark--Nicot could make out no features of the room he was in. Nicot groaned softly--someone was probably just playing a practical joke on him.

He finally became tired of waiting for the culprit of the prank to make himself or herself known and broke the silence. "Computer--lights."

Lights came on, all right, but not as Nicot had expected. A series of powerful floodlights shone directly into his face. He squinted his eyes and with a little effort, finally made out the silhouette of a longhaired woman. "Very funny, Melina, now do me a favor and beam me back to my bed, I don't have time for your games."

"I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else," replied the silhouette. Well, more accurately the voice seemed to surround him. But it definitely seemed to center around the figure.

Nicot further squinted his eyes in a vain attempt to distinguish the identity of the woman. Damn inferior eyesight, Nicot silently cursed. "Well, whoever you are, I'm not in the mood for this."

"Morning shift tomorrow, is it?" asked the mysterious woman, "You're usually late anyway, so what's the worry?"

Nicot was slowly losing patience. He quietly considered his choices before finally acting. He ran full speed at the figure, only to careen off a force field. Nicot hit the ground with a huff--low intensity stun force field at that. He let out a string of Bolian swears before picking himself up off the floor.

"You're not being very cooperative, Nicot."

"Fine," Nicot snapped back, "I'll bite. What the hell do you want?"

"I'm glad you finally asked," responded the shadowy figure with an air of authority. "I represent a certain group of people interested in you and your talents."

"Oh? And who would that group be?" asked Nicot; irritated.

"Section 31."

Nicot's heart began to race. He'd heard of the organization, even before the Federation Council announced a warrant for their arrest for allegedly trying to exterminate the Founders; though even then it had only been whispers. Even though they were little more than rumor, Nicot had always held a healthy respect for Section 31. Nicot struggled to say something. Nothing appropriate came to mind.

"I take it you're familiar with Section 31?" pressed the voice.

"I've heard a little bit here and there," Nicot replied. He was doing his best to mask his obvious surprise. "What makes you think I have any interest in becoming a party to attempted mass-genocide?"

The form chuckled lightly. "Come now, Commander--false bravado is not your specialty. That's more of Commander Rojc's thing, isn't it now?"

Nicot did not respond verbally; he simply scowled.

"Commander, we're well aware that you're hardly appreciative of the bureaucracy you commonly encounter from both Starfleet and the SIC," continued the woman, once again in a serious tone. "We're offering you an opportunity to supersede that bureaucracy and put the full range of your skills to work protecting the Federation."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," answered the woman, "But you don't need to make that choice right now--whatever that choice may be, just make sure its your choice."

"How am I supposed to contact you?"

"As they say, Commander, don't call us; we'll call you." The voice paused. "Before I return you to your quarters, though, I'll make it clear to you now that you may not agree with all of your duties, however."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say that Section 31 has a certain...interest in both Captain Knight and Commander Rojc."

"I won't assassinate anyone for you!" Nicot shot back.

The woman laughed. "I don't believe I ever said anything about killing anyone, Commander. If it helps any, your duties will not entail harming Knight or Rojc, more so a surveillance of them."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid that's strictly on a need-to-know basis," answered the woman, clearly amused at the question.

"I...I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask, Commander. Have a pleasant rest."

Before Nicot could say anything more, he felt a transporter beam again taking hold of him. The transport cycle finished and Nicot found himself back in his quarters. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight...

"Hey Coleman! Look alive!" ordered Lieutenant Jenna Perevoz.

Ensign Sam Coleman nearly fell out of his seat as his eyes fluttered open. "I'm awake!"

Perevoz surpressed a smile. "I suppose you were just resting your eyes?"

"Uhhhh...yeah," he stammered. "I mean, yes Sir...Ma'am...Lieutenant...!"

The rest of the Night Shift Bridge crew stifled laughter. "Weren't you supposed to have the night off, Sam?"

Coleman rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I lost a bet with Sanas."

Ensign Sto'cha shook her head at Coleman. She opened her mouth to chide him as well, but stopped as the OPS console began to beep. Sto'cha read the incoming report before swiveling around to face Perevoz. "Incoming Priority One message from an Admiral T'Lara of Starfleet Command."

Perevoz tapped her comm-badge, "Bridge to all Senior Staff--please report to the Conference Lounge."

Captain Knight stared bleary-eyed at the image of Admiral T'Lara on the Conference Lounge's main viewscreen. The rest of the Senior Staff had arrived in much the same state; only Nicot appeared to be fully awake.

"Captain Knight, I am aware that it is late, so I will be brief. Approximately six hours ago, we lost all contact with the Starship Osbourne. She had just encountered an unclassified phenomena not far from her position near the Talarian/Tholian frontier and was moving in to investigate. The next communication we received was far too corrupted to give us any new information. You are to break off course for Starbase 7 immediately and investigate the matter."

This, of course, fully woke Knight up. "Admiral, Starbase 7 is expecting our arrival. We have pressing matters to attend to."

"I am countermanding those orders, Captain. This mission will take precedence over your debriefing. En route is a full log of all the information we have on the situation."

The rest of the Senior Staff watched silently. None of them dared to interrupt.

"With all due respect, Sir, I was not aware the Phantom has changed jurisdiction. My understanding--"

"Your understanding is not flawed Captain. I received mission authorization from Starfleet Command only early this morning. Vice-Admiral Bates no longer has jurisdiction over the Phantom. Whatever your pending orders were with him, they are rescinded. May logic guide you and your crew in your investigation Captain. T'Lara out." Admiral T'Lara abruptly ended the conversation without Knight getting a chance to argue further.

Knight simply scowled. He didn't like to admit it, but his vendetta against the Syndicate had become quite personal; this would prove to be an obstacle to his plans. Knight took a deep breath and composed himself before turning around to face his officers. "We have our orders."

Knight abruptly stood up and walked out of the Conference Lounge.

T'Senishra spoke up, "I assume we are dismissed." She shrugged and followed Knight's example.

Knight stormed out of the Conference Lounge and onto the Bridge. "Set course--bearing 087 mark 197--maximum warp," he barked.

"Course set," replied Lieutenant j.g. Senel.

"Engage. Put us at Yellow Alert," ordered Knight. He paused as the ship changed course. "Time to arrival in the Mildan sector?"

"Four hours, twenty-one minutes to arrival."

"New orders, sir?" asked Lt. Perevoz, commanding officer of the Night Shift.

"Yes," Knight snapped. He turned around to look at who had addressed him. "Are you in command, Lieutenant..."

"Perevoz, Sir," she said. "Lieutenant first-class Jenna Perevoz. And yes Sir, I am currently in command."

Knight looked back at the Conference Lounge as the Senior Staff began to file out; seconds later struck by the realization he hadn't actually dismissed them. Ooops. He shifted his gaze back to the pretty lieutenant before him. "The Senior Staff and I will be relieving you and your officers."

Nicot thought to complain, but since he couldn't very well sleep anyhow after his "meeting", he thought better of it.

Guitarrez and Arona entered the turbolift to report to their stations, while T'Senishra, Rojc, Iv'Oor, and Nicot took their seats.

Knight moved to sit down in the command chair, but stopped and headed towards his ready room. "Commander Rojc, I need to speak to you in private."

Rojc stood up, thinking nothing of the request and entered the room as Knight waved him in. Knight took one last look out at the Bridge before entering. "Lieutenant Perevoz," he called.

Perevoz had straggled behind the other Night Shift officers and had found herself waiting for a turbolift to arrive. At Knight's address, she turned her head. "Sir?"

"Take over at Tactical for Commander Rojc, please." With that he entered his ready room, the door closing behind him.

"Aye Sir," she replied uncertainly.

Knight settled into the chair behind his desk and stared absently out the window.

"Uh...Captain?" began Rojc. Something was bugging Knight; he had a fairly good idea what that something was--and what this conversation would be about."

Knight turned to Rojc, somewhat startled before shaking it off and swiveling the chair back around. "I'm sorry Commander, my thoughts were elsewhere."

"Lieutenant Perevoz, perhaps?" deadpanned Rojc.

Knight blinked and looked indignant. "What?"

Rojc smiled thinly. "A joke."

The Captain exhaled and relaxed his posture, though he did not smile. "Speaking of her, how is it I haven't met the commander of the Night Shift yet?"

"Recent transfer--came aboard right before the convoy duty. She's a good officer from what I hear; haven't had much of a chance to get to know her," returned Rojc, "How'd you know she was a Security officer?"

"I vaguely remembered her name from the last crew roster transfer before we set out from Starbase 7," Knight replied. "She has engineering skills as well," he added.

"And here I thought you approved your Bridge shifts personally," confessed Rojc, a bit surprised.

Knight shook his head. "Duty roster puts me to sleep. I leave that kind of detail for my first officer." He paused. "This is really off the topic I wanted to discuss."

"Admiral T'Lara?"

"Admiral T'Lara," Knight confirmed. "Familiar with her?"

"I am," replied Rojc, nodding his head. "You aren't?"

"I've been buried under paper work for the last six months," remarked Knight, defensively. "If they don't give me a reason to know them, all the other admirals are pretty much the same to me."

"Well, I know what you're thinking and the answer is forget about it now and save yourself the trouble," declared Rojc. "Nechayev, Haden, Jellico, and Shanthi made her apart of the command structure after Leyton's attempted coup on Earth--unanimously, I might add. She has an exemplary record and a lot of friends in high places."

"Well Bates has that same group supporting him, doesn't he?" inquired Knight.

"Jellico and Bates are not on friendly terms," answered Rojc. "This is completely above Bates and out of your grasp, Captain."

"Ambassador Tripsa of Andor owes me a favor or two--"

Rojc shook his head, amazed at Knight's stubbornness. "Let me put it in perspective--when I exposed the Gossimere clone last year, Council Member Channing wanted T'Lara to take over Intelligence, even though, like Gossimere, she has no affiliation with the department. Bates used his markers to get Nechayev, Haden, and Shanthi to line up behind him instead--vote: three to two."

"Damn it, Dade! I was all ready to go after the Syndicate again." Knight rubbed his temples, trying to calm the headache he was now feeling. "I know its not something I usually ask of you, but what's your advice in how to deal with Admiral T'Lara?"

"Don't piss her off."

Knight shot Rojc a dirty look. "That's not helpful."

"That's all there is to say," responded Rojc. "For a Vulcan, she's got a horrible temper. Someone I know tried to go over her head and ended up on Earth at the Department of Planetary Operations--behind a desk. He's just lucky the Dominion War came along or else that's where he would have sat for a good long while."

"And while Phantom is busy elsewhere, the Orion Syndicate re-strengthens," spat Knight.

"Raimus is out of the picture, Captain--Chadwick and his team apprehended him shortly after the incident at Farius. All the reports I've seen recently suggest the Syndicate took a beating during the War, and we're not even sure who's all responsible," Rojc declared, "The fact that they had a tie at Telerais V was an anomaly."

"Raimus was set up," uttered Knight. He looked directly at Rojc. "Someone in the Syndicate leaked the information about the Syndicate's movements on Farius. In the fallout, Raimus gives up his closest contacts in a plea bargain."

"Who in the Syndicate has that kind of cunning and managed to survive, yet remain completely unknown to Intelligence?" scoffed Rojc.

Knight glanced out of the corners of eyes, surveying the Ready Room as if he suspected someone to be watching their conversation. "I don't have any proof that would hold up in court," began Knight quietly, "But I know where the new Syndicate Enforcer is--on Zakdorn."

"Zakdorn!?"

"One of the few races with the tactical cunning to pull off that kind of plan," Knight returned, "Additionally Zakdorn is one of the few places believed immune to Syndicate activity, so there's no one looking there. Trust me, Dade--I've been analyzing Syndicate activity for years."

Dade pursed his lips and rubbed his chin. "If you're really that sure of this, you should pass your findings along to Chadwick--"

Knight interrupted, with a wave of his hand. "When Karl was my XO, he and I didn't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things..." Knight trailed off. "He and I were friends, but that's changed." Knight stopped, unwilling to tell Rojc why he believed their friendship to be dead. Hell--, Knight sighed; he couldn't even admit the incident even took place to himself. A cold chill ran down his spine.

"I don't know," said Rojc, referring to Admiral T'Lara. "Talk to Bates, see what you can figure out, but I doubt he can help you."

Knight regained his composure and leaned back in his chair. "Well, thank you for your advice, Commander. Dismissed."

After Rojc had left, Captain Knight was left in his memories. Revenge wasn't a noble concept, but revenge against the Syndicate was the only thing on his mind at the moment; he simply had lost too much, been caused too much pain by the Syndicate to give up this easily.

Knight wasn't sure what he was going to do, but damned if he was going to let the bureaucracy interfere.