Rick Huntington looked over his new quarters. He had a certain standard of living, and this new berth was prime by that standard. Thick carpet, bed, couch, chairs - it was bigger than his past posting...heck, it was bigger then his home back on Earth. Until the Ghidorah was decommissioned this was to be home, for him and his fighters and shuttles.

Rick looked around the rooms, and thought about crashing on the bed. He had a few hours before he had to meet with the Captain. He went to sit down on the bed, but stopped when he remembered that he was still in his armoured space suit.

"Okay, even better - a shower, a fresh set of clothes and a nap", Rick said out loud...

His comm-badge chirped. "Blackfire to Huntington - launch the perimeter squadron. Rig for silent running once you're in position."

He hit his comm-badge. "Roger, Captain. On our way."

"Computer, alert fight crew and pilots. Scramble, ten minutes and counting till launch...no belay that, computer. Five till launch"

Rick hit his comm-badge once more. "Deck Officer Brow, I need the Blackstars running ASAP. Captain's orders. I`ll be on deck in three minutes."

"Pushy bastard, aren't you?", the deck officer remarked.

"Hey, do you want to disappoint a Captain?" Rick grabbed his helmet and a PADD, and ran out the door.

"No-one one wants to disappoint Captain Blackfire." Rick heard the words, but what puzzled him was the true fear there was behind them. For the first time Rick wondered what kind of starship captain this elf Blackfire was. Decker was a prima-donna, but he could be handle that. What was Blackfire really like? And to what ends would she go to if you failed her?

"No we don't want to do that, Huntington out."

He reached the turbolift, and it was empty. "Shuttle bay one!! No stops..." As the doors closed, Rick put on his helmet.

Beth Lanzola groaned when the order to scramble came. She was just about sit down to a good dinner. She had made her great-grandmother's old world pasta, with all the trimmings. Now she raced to get dressed. She had kept a spare flight suit ready, in preparation for such interruptions.

Beth had a prep time of two minutes and seven seconds. For once, she smashed that record, and was ready in one minute and five seconds. She left her quarters and raced to the lift, where a few other members of the flight squad where waiting.

"Come on, move it slowpokes!!! We got a fight to win!!!", Beth yelled. It made the others jump.

The turbolift doors opened. Beth was the last one on. "Shuttle Bay One", Beth called out. "So are you guys ready or what?"

Only groans could be heard as the doors closed.

Mara Riilka, had just stepped out of the shower as the announcement was made to go to battle.

She hissed at the comm system. "Blast, Huntington, could you not find another time for your fool drills?", she shouted. She grabbed her flight suit, knocking over the chair that it was on. Quickly she dressed herself.

Once she had checked to make sure her suit was was locked up and ready, she saw herself in the mirror, with her high forehead ridges, her dark skin, and dripping wet hair. She was proud to be at least part Klingon - then she saw one pointy brown ear was sticking out from behind the mass of black wet hair. She pounded her fist down on a drawer, and it slowly opened. As it was moving she grabbed the first headband from the drawer. It was a bright red, and clashed with everything.

She pulled it over her head, threw her hair back and pulled the headband into place. It hid her ears and part of her forehead, but she had to live with that. She stormed out the door, with her helmet in hand. She only wished someone would try to get in her way.

Rick launched himself out of the turbo lift, at a dead run, and nearly ran over Brow, who had been running to meet him.

"Your ships are prepped, and you're loaded with full weapons. Be careful - I don't want to be cleaning blood out of the deck plates", Brow huffed.

"Got it - no blood on the deck plates." Rick gave him his best killer smile. Brow didn't smile back. He only walked away, muttering something.

Huntington reached his cockpit, and saw the other pilots climbing into their ships. Over the suit's comms he gave the Perimeter order, then he vaulted over the side of the fighter and landed in the pilot's seat. As he strapped in, he informed the others of what he expected to happen.

They all seemed to understand. Satisfied, Rick throttled his fighter off in to space to face the unknown.

The Squad came around, after the first past of the outer perimeter scan. So far there was nothing out here but the Ghidorah and the Fighters.

He wanted to call back to the Ghidorah and report that all was well out here. The order for silent running had been given, however, so he had to wait till the phantom ship showed up.

"Black Leader, this had better turn out to be real, and not another training run." It was Mara - she was a pain at times.

She was highly strung, with a full-blown Klingon attitude that walked or flew in the door ten minutes before she did. When you got past that she was an alright person...if you could get past the fact.

"Black 6, even if it was a test, you still have your orders, now get nice and snug, it look like our guests are going to make us wait."

"Hey, who said you can complain? I got to get back to my cannalonis!! Have you ever had soggy cannaloni?" That would be Beth."Well, have you?" Another one that rubbed you the wrong way if you let her.

"No, I have not", remarked Mara.

The truth was that Rick liked them both. They could fly, and fight like no-one's business. The only problem was the fact that they had a little trouble following one order - to keep the comm free of chit-chat.

"After this, head over to my place, you can try it first hand. It will make you cry." Beth responded.

"Knock it off, you two! We're no good out here if the enemy knows about us."

Rick shook his head. If both of them kept this up, he would go grey. Of course, with any luck they would do something to tick off the Captain and get the whole lot killed off.

The comm-link grew quiet. Rick let his fighter fly straight, letting his hands just rest on the controls. It didn't make sense. He had past this space on the first run, and each time he felt that a ship should be there, yet so far there was none.

There was something here, not just a feeling, but there was something different about this part of space. Rick felt everything grow calm. then his controls went nuts. the reading went off the boards.

Something was right in front of him, something large enough to generate its own gravity pull.

"All fighters pull up and out now!", Rick ordered as he threw his ship into a straight bootleg turn. The other fighters flew off in different directions. The space in front of them rolled on itself, flashes of light pulsed from it. In the middle something took shape. Rick flipped the comm open and relayed it all back to the Ghidorah.

Rick turned his head and looked back on the space as the thing took shape. It was huge - it had to be at least four, no five time the size of the Ghidorah! It looked like it was a dragon, a twisted bodiless dragon head...

Rick flipped his fighter around, this time heading towards the head. He took note that the others had followed him as he took a better look at the ship. It was a dark decaying green colour, with sickly yellow spikes and horns that stuck up all over it, in groups of three. It had what looked like a squinted, half-shut eye, with a ridged brow and nose that would put most Bajorans to shame. Rick tried to get a power reading off of it, but the result didn't make any kind of logic.

As the light show died down, and the dragon-ship became real, Rick called out to his Squad "All fighters, go to Attack Pattern Beta! All weapons stand by."

They followed orders without so much as a comment.

For once he wished he had a warning feeling, that strange tingling in his spine would tell him what to do.

"This is First Warbreed, of the Neverending vessel Great Rage. I speak for The God-Emperor. We wish to establish dialogue."

The Universal Translator took a moment longer than usual to do its work on the alien transmission. The result was chilling in its unearthliness, even for Blackfire, who had dealt with them all - Gorn, Triskelions, even Tholians - yet she stayed calm and in control.

"Evaluations", she demanded, keeping the communications channel one-way for the time being.

Brightsting was up at the tactical console, beside Starsword. "The alien ship is radiating an aura that is in some ways similar to a cloaking device, but its hard to tell if the effect is intentional, or a result of their engine output. Their drive system doesn't conform with anything on record - not even remotely."

***I read energy concentrations that could be power conduits feeding weapons systems, but the pseudo-cloak is interfering with our sensors***, reported the Gilder chief of security. ***I can't say for certain, but they don't appear to be active.***

"Do the aliens know about our fighters?", queried the Captain.

***Unknown, My Lord, but we would be wise to assume they do***, Starsword responded.

This is not the way I wanted to test our new hot-shot pilot, thought Blackfire, but sometimes one just has to step back and let Fate take the reins. And if one can't punish Fate for being cruel, you can at least make your enemy hurt as much as you can before you blow them to atoms.

"The ship matches the one Starsword received a vision of, from the girl", remarked Brightsting. "There were indications of some kind of war, well beyond Imperial territory - looks like one side's come to visit."

"But is it the right side to welcome?", replied Blackfire. "Wars have a tendency to spill over borders, even if you plead neutrality. Standard procedure is to destroy all intruders entering Imperial space, but I would like to know more, especially if this war poses a threat to the Empire."

***Someone calling himself "Warbreed" doesn't sound much like a peace envoy to me***, Starsword added, with an ominous air of caution.

"Agreed", said the Captain, "but before we do anything, I want a second opinion..."

Blackfire slapped at her comm-badge. "Doctor MacLaughlin; to the bridge immediately."

"It's them", MacLaughlin said coldly as he caught sight of the approaching vessel on a view-screen in the secure science bay. "Gods, don't let that woman start firing at them..."

The scientist all but leapt out of his starting blocks when the order came for him to go to the bridge, leaving Lieutenants Nightsea and Ingotay to watch over the girl, now imprisoned behind the more trustworthy force fields of a Ghidorah holding cell.

In the cell, the elf-Borg stood almost as still as stone - almost, because the tentacles extending from her back writhed and intertwined constantly, perhaps reacting to the approach of the race responsible for their creation and implantation.

Her Borg components were not idle, either. She seemed inactive, but with every moment that passed, the Empire's technology became less and less of a hindrance to her. She had found her way through one Imperial force field already, and it was only a matter of time before she adapted to this one as well.

MacLaughlin paused at the top of the ramp as he stepped out of the turbo-lift, and saw the Neverending ship displayed in breathtaking style on the main viewer. "Remarkable", he murmured, then proceeded down to join the Captain, never once managing to tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Remarkable, yes", Blackfire responded, "but also a potential threat. Doctor, I would appreciate any insights you have uncovered during your study of the girl concerning the aliens' technology."

"I have never seen the like", the Doctor said, apparently daydreaming.

"And it may be the last thing any of us ever see if we do not respond to this intrusion swiftly", said the elven Captain sternly.

"I'm not talking about the ship", MacLaughlin replied. "I mean their technology. A fusion of machine and organism, going far beyond mere cybernetics. They have the answer - I can feel it."

"The answer?", queried Blackfire. "The answer to what?"

"The Soong Enigma", the scientist said, in a detached, reflective fashion. "My last stumbling block."

"I am a starship captain with a potential enemy closing in on me, not a scientist", said the elf sharply. "I need facts, not intellectual discourse. Have you come across anything to give you reason to re-evaluate your previous recommendation?"

"This vessel shows no trace of the Borg 'infestation', and my studies so far suggest that they are the ones most likely to pose a threat to us. Yes...yes, I will revise my recommendation - I believe it is essential that we make contact."

Blackfire had dealt with scientists before, and often found that their squinting down microscopes blinkered them to concerns beyond their studies. "Is this out of scientific interest, or out of genuine concern for Imperial security?"

"Both, but consider this: one does not win wars purely with force, Captain", he told her. "Half the winning comes from knowing your enemy. There are three potential enemies in this scenario, and we know next to nothing about any of them. We will gain more in the way of facts through an exchange of ideas than from sifting through wreckage. I want to talk with these beings, learn from them. I am certain the Empire will benefit from this."

"Scientists", snorted Commander Paxton, quiet until now.

Blackfire's mind was already made up. There was also a third consideration to take into account - the money-making potential of being the first with their foot in the door where new technology was concerned. A ship does not run on glory and discipline alone, she thought. "Open a channel", she ordered. "I'll speak to them. Starsword, keep me constantly alerted to their combat status. If they show signs of aggression, I want to get our aggression in first."

The Captain straightened the hem of her short scarlet skirt, pulled up her glossy black boots, and folded her arms across her chest before giving the nodded signal to open communications. "I am Blackfire, Captain of the Imperial Starship Ghidorah. Be advised that you are trespassing in our territory, and it is only my word that stays our displeasure. We are, however, prepared to enter into dialogue with you..."

That deep, slightly gurgling alien voice filled the air again.

"This fragrance is most pleasing. Progress is imperative. Dialogue must be completed before The Metal Swarm become aware of it."

Blackfire glanced ever so briefly towards MacLaughlin. "You mean the Borg?", she asked the alien.

"The Metal Swarm use that name."

It was hard to discern emotion from such an inhuman voice, but the Ghidorah's Captain felt sure there was a hint of what could only be called disgust in the alien's words. "You do not ally yourself with them, then?"

The alien's thoughts were running along different tracks. "Your communicator is required. Once the communicator is prepared, we shall continue contact. Shall you compliment our senses?"

"A communicator? We already have a communications channel open, and as secure from interception as the Empire can make it..."

"The communicator is required for direct contact. Shall you compliment our senses?"

"They want to talk face-to-face", offered MacLaughlin. "Some cultures prefer meetings to be carried out that way."

Blackfire's mood darkened. She did not like the way this encounter was working out, yet she was eager to learn more - especially from members of this "Neverending" race that shunned union with the Borg. "We will contact you shortly to finalise the arrangements", she said, as quickly as she dared without sounding too hasty to break off communications. "Blackfire out."

Blackfire sent to Brightsting to close the comm-channel. "I'm not sending even a Yeoman over to that ship", the Captain declared as the view-screen switched back to a star-field, with the alien ship hovering at the dead centre of the image. "Even a junior officer's mind contains a lot of strategically sensitive information..."

"Who's to say they don't know all that already?", suggested MacLaughlin. "They could have performed mind-probes as they approached."

"They have not", assured the Captain coldly. "I would have sensed it."

MacLaughlin nodded, but apparently not as a gesture of agreement with Blackfire's statement. "There is an alternative - a mind that can yield no secrets, for it contains none."

"If you mean the girl, forget it", snorted the elven woman. "Who's to say they're not here to take her back?"

"That is a distinct possibility, and I don't intend to oblige them", answered the scientist. "No, I have another in mind. Please, Captain, follow me..."

As Dr. MacLaughlin left for the bridge, in a great hurry, he barked a terse order to switch command of this particular area to Lt. Ingotay.  Even though he was by rank and reputation suited to the task, his actual skills and lack of a decent personality made Nightsea wince as Ingotay only shrugged in acknowledgement.

Watching the barely capable and highly distracted Lt. Ingotay oversee the operation to transport the Borg-elf girl to the Ghidorah from the science station, she quietly assessed the obvious dangers. The ability of the automatic safeguards to prevent the drugged genius from making a disastrous mistake seemed questionable.  Nightsea narrowed her blue eyes as potential outcomes ran through her mind.

One possible scenario might be the actual escape of the lethally armed Kal. Thinking it over carefully, Nightsea decided that the danger to the ship and crew in general would be too great for her to allow Kal any freedom.

Stopping the girl would prove difficult however. Physically, a brief touch from the nanoprobe-loaded child would result in an unacceptable risk, while mentally, Nightsea doubted her own ability to remain aloof should Kal send the swarm into her mind.

Alas, as a tool of Ingotay's demise, the girl was unwieldy. However, an opportunity to be rid of him did seem likely to present itself, and soon, given this situation.

His overall carelessness was maddening.  Watching him punch buttons and wander in his own delusions made Nightsea's skin crawl with loathing for the beastly man.

Given that Kal's very presence practically predicted trouble, Nightsea decided at that very moment to strike.  The question of guessing at a timeframe was all that remained.

Again searching the face of Kal for some clues, Nightsea reached into the top of her boot with a hand unseen by Notah Ingotay.

Kal's impassive features still seemed moulded by an ironically single-minded drive to escape. Inside that body, multiple thoughts calculated, strove and desired to be reunited with a hive.  If the implant-imprisoned girl was blamed for Ingotay's death, the execution would perhaps be a mercy.  If she escaped death, perhaps one day the elf within could be reclaimed and cleansed of any wrong-doing while she had been so possessed. Either way, Kal would likely never protest the role.

Shuddering at the memories of sending to Kal, Nightsea flicked her thumb over the sculpted features of a small dolphin figurine.  The tiny object contained lethal poisons garnered from her years amid the ocean's deadliest animals, and Nightsea selected a setting which would infect Ingotay with a slow toxin, giving her, or Kal, hours in which to enact a moment to cover his death. The man's weight, height and general lack of health had all been taken into account days ago, when some of these particular darts, covered in undetectable poisons, had been loaded into the object.

Recalling the many reasons why Ingotay should die, Nightsea used the silent weapon to shoot the lethal dart into his backside.  The sting from the missile barely made Ingotay shift, he was so absorbed in studying the data readouts from the girl's implants.

For females everywhere, and with no obvious blood on my hands, she thought. Kal or I will soon find a way to cover my killing this officer before Blackfire's addictive substances do the job.  It was just taking too long for him to do himself in with the supply the captain allowed the man. The Captain would certainly not appreciate having this kill snatched from her grasp, so better she does not know of my part in it. Besides, Blackfire could have a new elfin science officer in no time!

Smiling, Nightsea again returned a vigilant gaze to the controls.

MacLaughlin's elven assistants, Varien and Talon, watched with some surprise as the Doctor appeared, with the Captain and Brightsting close behind. It had to be something of the utmost importance to bring Blackfire down from the bridge in a yellow alert situation.

"I'm normally not a believer in fate, Captain", the Doctor said, taking up a station at the main console attached to the mysterious stasis pod, "but my being here at this precise moment strikes me as being the work of some higher power. You see, I think I have exactly what we need..."

The opaque shielding concealing the contents of the pod slid open in response to MacLaughlin's security code. It took a moment for the wisps of coolant vapour to clear, then everyone could see what the Doctor had been keeping secret from even the Captain herself...

The figure sat up, and scanned the assembled faces. "I register individuals not currently on my database", the waxy faced entity announced, in a soulless, eerily mechanical voice. "Updating..."

The "creature" was an unrefined image of a man, hairless and with a pale yellowish synthetic outer covering, sometimes sporting grey patches, in other places revealing internal mechanisms through rectangular holes in the covering on the arms, legs and neck. The cranial casing was exposed on the top and down the back of the head, and underneath the synthetic skin was a smooth, nearly seamless dome of polished metal.

The eyes were the most human thing of all, but even they announced that the body they belonged to was in no way human, having strange, yellowish irises that made the pupils stand out even more than usual, and added to that emotionless, doll-like appearance.

"The child of Doctor Noonian Soong - an nearly perfect android", MacLaughlin announced. "Nearly perfect in that Doctor Soong's research was either left unfinished, or the key work was destroyed before his apparently terminal disappearance. I have been striving to bridge the gap between this and the masterpiece he envisioned, but I must regretfully admit that that gap has so far been beyond my ability to span. Captain, I believe that contact with these 'Neverending' may provide the last piece to Soong's puzzle - if what I have been able to determine about them is correct, based on the sample of their work that we already have."

"The girl", responded Blackfire.

MacLaughlin nodded. "If they pursue the same methodology, they will fill the gaps for us", he said. "I am prepared to risk this, the sum total of my efforts for nearly six years, in the service of the Empire - if it pleases you, Captain."

"A valuable project indeed", purred Blackfire, edging closer, unsettled by the lack of any psychic presence emanating from the machine-man. "Even more valuable if it is fully functional..."

The Captain straightened up, and looked directly at the Doctor. "Prepare your creation, Doctor MacLaughlin. Ensure that we have every possible sensor and recording device hooked up to its sensory systems. If we happen to lose your machine, I want to make sure we make the very most out of that sacrifice."

"I could not agree more", the Doctor replied, and he and his two elven assistants set to work on the android.