Star Traks: Melting Pot is based on Alan Decker's Star Traks, which in turn is based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry, may he rest in peace. Certain characters making appearances were created by Anthony Butler and/or Alan Decker. Special thanks to Alan Decker not only for the original Star Traks concept, but also for critiquing this story and pointing a new author in the right direction, and to Anthony Butler for additional proofing and encouragement. Copyright 2004. Star Traks: Melting Pot "Animal Farm" by Paul Cloutier Let us watch well our beginnings, and results will manage themselves. Alexander Clark Stardate 55324.4 Federation Council Chambers, Earth Ambassador Kyyyecht of the Rusai stood firm amidst the uproar that his statement had caused. He had expected this reaction, after all. One doesn't just walk into a governing Council composed of the most highly regarded beings in the known galaxy and accuse them of being specist without expecting an eruption of chaos. He waited, patiently for the fervor to die down and then, slowly, presented his case. Six hours later, the gathered Ambassadors were forced to concede that he had a point (either that or they were all starving). It was overly apparent that the majority of personnel on Starfleet vessels was Human. A decision was reached. Over the next several months, the project that had been born that day slowly grew and took on form. A Vulcan Admiral was named to head the project. His office issued orders to every Starfleet ship in space: To: Starfleet Captains From: Admiral Sontak Re: Project "Open Arms" Subject: Non-Human Personnel reassignment Please review your current crew complement and select the best and brightest of your non-Human personnel for assignment to this new Starfleet initiative. Coordinate with this office for replacement personnel and transportation logistics. Sontak Sensing an opportunity, these selfsame Starfleet captains immediately off-loaded the worst of their crews. In short, what the 'Open Arms" Project wanted was the best and the brightest, what it got was a lot closer to the tired, the poor, the wretched refuse. At least, that's how it appeared on the surface. And therein lies the story... Captain's Log; Stardate 57388.2 - I have just come aboard and taken command of this brand new Prometheus-class vessel, the USS Menagerie. The name of the vessel has some significance, if the strange smirks and giggles the Space Dock personnel have been trying to hide are any indication, but its meaning escapes me, just now. According to the purview of Project "Open Arms", we are the first fully non-human, multiple species crew in Starfleet history. We are ready to leave Space Dock, albeit short of several key crew members. Our first mission will take us to Deep Space Nine to take on board two of our remaining three officers, our Security Officer and our Chief Medical Officer. We will be met en route by our Chief Engineer. After reviewing the personnel folders of my crew, I must admit to being slightly perplexed by some of the crew assignments. However, I fully expect this crew to come together in a very short time to be a model of Starfleet efficiency and professionalism. "Nicely done," growled Commander Thog, the Klingon First Officer of the USS Menagerie, as the ship slipped smoothly between the open doors of the gigantic Space Dock. "Indeed," commented the ship's Vulcan captain, Captain Seetamyn. "Lay in a course for Deep Space Nine and engage at Warp 7, when ready. I will be in my Ready Room, Commander Thog, you have the Bridge. Ensign Mantron, please see me at your earliest convenience." With that, the tall, patrician-looking captain walked across the Bridge and into his Ready Room. Ensign Dil Mantron, the Menagerie's Betazoid Helmsman sighed to himself. The confrontation that he had been dreading was about to happen, and this captain had only been on board for a few hours! Steeling himself against the inevitable, he resolved to get this whole unpleasantness over with. He turned to Thog, "Course laid in and engines engaged at Warp 7, sir. Our estimated travel time is 4 days, 6 hours." Thog replied, "That is fine, Ensign. We need to make our rendezvous with Lt. Commander Ustrano before we reach DS9, anyway." "Permission to leave the Bridge to meet with the captain, sir?" "Granted," grunted Thog. "And good luck." Unlike many female Human Starfleet officers, the very obviously female Klingon First Officer had never had a problem being called "sir." Klingons had never discriminated against each based on gender, preferring to discriminate based on lack of honor, instead. Mantron slowly got to his feet and shuffled over to the Ready Room door. He chimed the entry pad and the doors whooshed open for him. They sounded very much like the sound of his career being send down the toilet. Inside the Captain was seated behind his desk working at a PADD. Seetamyn motioned for Mantron to have a seat. Mantron sat down in one of the two chairs in front on the Captain's desk, silently readying his excuses. It was all so unfair; it wasn't even his fault. But, apparently, he was on his way off of another starship. He just hoped this one wouldn't be another one to blow up!. The injustice of it all was more than he could take and he found himself growing angrier and angrier. <> He had just worked himself into a real lather when the Captain's voice interrupted his woolgathering. "Ensign, you have been in Starfleet for seven years. During that time you have held the Helmsman position on twelve ships. I have found nothing but glowing descriptions of your prowess at Helm and commendations for your tact and diplomacy in difficult situations. Can you please explain to me why you have been bouncing from ship to ship throughout the fleet and have never risen above the rank of ensign?" Mantron, barely registering the captain's question, exploded with "So, you don't want me, either! Damn Starfleet for not being able to see past its own nose!" Seetamyn, completely unfazed by this outburst, merely said, "Ensign I most certainly do want you at Helm. I just want to understand why you haven't been able to stick with a ship for any significant period of time." Mantron was not used to being wanted and this revelation seemed to completely deflate his bravado. "Sir, every captain I have ever served under has been overjoyed at the thought of getting a Betazoid on their Bridge crew. I assume that they wanted the little edge that they think that having a telepath nearby can give them. That joy has always turned to anger and resentment when they find out that I have absolutely no psychic abilities, whatsoever. This resentment has always resulted in them dumping me at the earliest possible opportunity. As you have pointed out, I have rarely stayed on the same ship for more than six months at a time. I haven't had the chance to make any friends since I was at Starfleet Academy. The last seven years have been a living hell for me." He was, at this point, close to tears. Seetamyn calmly responded, "I wondered if it were something like that. What passes for thought processes among the Humans still amazes me. To refuse to make use of a valuable crewmember simply because they were not what you were expecting..." Seetamyn let his voice trail off as he composed his thoughts. "Ensign, a captain must be secure in his own abilities and comfortable with the abilities of his crew. He should never wish for abilities that he doesn't have nor engage in wishful thinking. Utilizing what you have, to get what you want is the cornerstone of a good captaincy. Secondly, you have been assigned to this ship by Admiral Sontak in the capacity of Helmsman. This is a position that you have shown a considerable talent for. Do you think that you are up to the job?" Mantron could hardly believe his ears! His new captain was telling him that what he had secretly thought for years was true. The captains that hadn't been able to see past his lack of psychic abilities and utilize his skills at Helm were not worthy of their rank. Mantron beamed, all traces of his previous outburst banished from his mind by a new self confidence and pride. "Yes, sir!" he replied. "My next question may easily be taken the wrong way, so I ask you to please look upon it as information gathering and not as any sort of accusation against you, Ensign." "I know what you're going to ask, sir, and Starfleet Intelligence has already been over all this." "Yes, I have the reports here, in front of me. I just want to look you in the face as you answer. As you are obviously aware, five of the last twelve ships that you have served on were destroyed within a few weeks of your leaving them. Two were lost in combat, two to accidents and one just vanished with no explanation. Now, Ensign, did you have anything to do with the destruction of those ships?" "Captain, on my honor as a Starfleet officer, I had absolutely nothing to do with any of those ships' destruction," the young Betazoid man replied, earnestly. "You must admit it is an incredible coincidence, however." "Yes, sir, but that's all it is. I was even scanned by some of my planet's most powerful telepaths and was absolved of any involvement in those terrible tragedies." "Yes, Ensign, as I said, I have read the investigation reports. Again, I just wanted to hear it from your own mouth. Now, let's consider this matter completely closed and get on with THIS ship's mission. How's that sound?" "That sounds great, sir. I can't wait to be part of a crew where I can do what I've been trained to do," Mantron affirmed, his enthusiasm resurfacing. "Very good," said Seetamyn. "In that case, as of this stardate, I hereby promote you to the rank of lieutenant with all the responsibilities and privileges adherent therein. Dismissed, Lieutenant." The Menagerie's newest Lieutenant, Dil Mantron, rose from the chair in the captain's Ready Room and returned to his station, feeling better than he had in a very long time. Captain Seetamyn made some notations on another PADD on his desk, entering the new rank information into the ship's database. Later, he would meet with his First Officer to have all the necessary paperwork filed with Starfleet Command. He was completely convinced of his helmsman's innocence but he had to admit to being concerned. Better than 40% of the ships that Mantron had served on no longer existed. That had to be more than a simple coincidence. However, since there was nothing to be done about it now, he put the matter out of his mind to turn to more important subjects. It seemed that his new lieutenant had been treated harshly by the system. He wondered how many more crewmen like Mantron he had on board. The "Open Arms" Project didn't have any provisions for the position of Counselor. It had been reasoned, and Seetamyn agreed with this reasoning, that the diverse crew make-up of ships in the Project would preclude the possibility of having any one person successfully counseling the entire crew. For a while it had appeared that there might be a cadre of Counselors assigned to each ship, but the selection of the Prometheus design for the main Project fleet composition had quickly disavowed the Federation Council of that notion. The Prometheus had far too small of a guest capacity for the inclusion of twenty or more Counselors. This was, he theorized, perhaps one of the reasons why he had been selected as the first captain for the project. He had left Starfleet 12 years ago to take over as the Chief Facilitator for the Vulcan Institute of Meditative Studies. When he had been approached by Admiral Sontak about taking this position, Sontak had dropped hints that Seetamyn's experiences with calming and meditative techniques might well be of use. Seetamyn could certainly see the logic in that. Captain's Log; Stardate 57392.4 - Long range sensors have picked up the Oberth-class science vessel USS Octavius. We are scheduled to rendezvous with this ship in 2 hours to take on board our Chief Engineer. Lt. Commander Ustrano comes highly recommended, but one wonders why his last captain would risk running several days at Warp 6.5 just to deliver Ustrano to us. Oberth-class ships have served Starfleet well for many years, but they were never designed to travel for extended periods at such a high rate of speed. "Captain, sensors indicate a massive instability in the matter-antimatter intermix," came the sing-song duet of the two Bynars manning the science console. Lt. Commanders B1 and B2 had been dubbed "the killer B's" by the crew of the USS Perry Rhodan, the first vessel on which they had served. The first Bynars to leave the comforting confines of the Great Computer on Bynaus, B1 and B2 re-connected each off-shift via a special sub-space data conduit to their homeworld and its vast network. "Additionally, their warp field harmonics are out of calibration and their entire EPS network is dangerously overloaded." "Looks like they were in a hurry to meet us," offered Commander Thog. "Yes, so much so that they have nearly crippled their ship getting here," agreed Captain Seetamyn. "I think I'll go down and meet our new Engineer, personally." "Commander, you have the Bridge." Seetamyn entered the turbolift and was whisked away. "Lieutenant, bring us out of warp at and maintain station keeping," Thog ordered Mantron. "M'Dral, contact the Octavius and tell them to stand by." This was directed to the Menagerie's Benzite Ops Officer, Lieutenant M'Dral. Taking a deep breath from her special respirator, M'Dral hailed the approaching ship and relayed the First Officer's instructions. "Octavius standing by," she told Thog after she had made contact with the smaller science ship. "Captain," Thog announced, tapping her commbadge, "the Octavius is standing by." "Very well, Commander," came the Vulcan's reply, "inform them that I will be in contact as soon as I reach Transporter Room One." "Energize." Seetamyn commanded the Tamarian Transporter Chief, Ensign Zamtra. "Beaming commences, with the levers up", Zamtra responded. A glowing blob appeared in a flurry of expanding molecules as the transporter sequence initialized. The glowing quickly subsided, but the blob remained. Lt. Commander Ustrano had arrived. The gargantuan Velvattian quickly slid off the transporter pad. It grasped the Captain's hand in one of its tentacles and rumbled, "Captain Seetamyn, I presume? How very nice to meet you! I can hardly wait to get hold of these nice, new engines!" Seetamyn raised one eyebrow, slightly, as he considered the Engineer's greeting. "Welcome aboard, Lt. Commander. May I walk with you on your way to Engineering? I have a few questions regarding your assignment, here." "Of course, of course!" thundered Ustrano, who didn't seem to have any concept of protocol as he wrapped a friendly tentacle around the Captain's shoulders. The odd couple exited out of Transporter Room One, leaving Zamtra shaking his head, "Zima, at Anso. Zima and Bakor." Turning back to the transporter console, he glanced up at the pad. Then to the floor. Then out the door. A slightly sparkling trail of slime covered every surface the Velvattian had crossed. A light, fruity scent filled his nostrils. It was actually rather pleasant. Not sure what to do about the slime, however, he tapped his commbadge and spoke, "Computer, our new Chef Engineer appears to have left some sort of slime trail in Transporter Room One. What should I do about it?" Within moments, he had his answer. Velvattian slime will do no harm There is really no cause for alarm It will evaporate If you patiently wait The aroma is part of its charm <> he thought. <> In the hallway, Seetamyn and Ustrano walked (well, one walked, the other kind of slithered) purposely down the hallway. Seetamyn wasn't particularly sure that he wanted to be in such close, personal contact with the huge Velvattian, but he didn't seem to have any choice. And it did have that rather pleasant, fruity aroma. He decided to begin his questioning. "You managed to keep the Octavius going at Warp 6.5 for over a week to make this rendezvous. That is quite an accomplishment. Anyone who is capable of that is certainly a fine engineer. However, your last captain certainly seemed in a hurry to be rid of you. Can you possibly explain why?" "Well, sir," the Velvattian began, "Captain Morgan had a bit of a problem with the fact that I'm a Velvattian. She could never do anything based on that one thing, at least not without looking like a specist, so she tolerated me. When Project "Open Arms" offered her the opportunity to get rid of me, she jumped at it, even though it meant running the ship at dangerously high speeds for far too long of a time." "I understand, the Humans, for all their high-sounding ideals, tend to prefer their own kind. Now, you were on the Octavius for over three years. What happened before that to get you transferred to an obsolete science vessel?" "Before, that I was the Chief Engineer on the USS Clausewitz, an Akira-class. In the latter stages of the Dominion War, we had engaged a small group of Jem'Hadar Attack-class ships. We managed to defeat the Jem'Hadar, but we sustained heavy damage. I was in Main Engineering, averting a warp-core breach when the captain came in and demanded that I abandon ship. I assured the captain that I could repair the damage before the ship exploded, but he was adamant. Eventually, I tired of listening to him and told him that if he wanted to leave so bad, he should just go. I picked him up and tossed him out of the room, then prevented the breach, patching the ship back together so that we held together long enough for aide to arrive. He later tried to have me court martialed for assaulting a superior officer, but since I had saved the ship, Starfleet transferred me to the Octavius, instead." "I promise to listen to you when you say that you can save the ship, Ustrano. I hope you find us a little more tolerant than your previous postings." "Captain, as far as I am concerned, a ship with no Humans on board is as close to paradise as I've ever dreamed!" "I just hope that the Octavius will make it back to Space Dock with the systems overloads we detected." "Oh, they'll make it - eventually," responded the Engineer. "However, I would predict that the warp drive will fail if they attempt to go faster than Warp 4." Seetamyn walked away, back toward the Bridge while the Velvattian continued on its way toward Main Engineering. So far, it seemed to him that most of his crew had been condemned by their previous superiors by the accident of their births. Perhaps this Project "Open Arms" would allow them to live long and prosper. Had he not been a Vulcan, he might have found that thought amusing. Captain's Log; Stardate 57401.36 - After coordinating with Starfleet Command to make sure that the Octavius would be taken care of (the warp drive failed as the ship tried to head away at Warp 5, and for some reason they refused our assistance), we have arrived at Deep Space Nine where we will take on our final two crew members. We will become the only ship in the fleet with a Changeling officer on board. I am not quite sure what benefits we will gain from having a Bridge officer who has never been in the Alpha Quadrant before, but Admiral Sontak seems to think, apparently, that it is a good idea. The Bajoran woman on the viewscreen was finishing, "So we are ready to transport them over whenever you are." "Thank you, General Kira, please energize," Captain Seetamyn responded. "Menagerie out." "Commander Thog," he continued, turning to his First Officer, "please go meet our new people in Transporter Room One. Escort Doctor Pish to the infirmary and ask Commander Banjo to come to the Bridge." "Aye, sir," the Klingon replied and headed for the turbolift. As Thog walked down the corridor towards Transporter Room One, she wondered when the Captain would get around to interviewing her. She was the second in command for Kahless' sake! Why was she always the last to be chosen? Why did no one respect her combat prowess? She had killed more miscreants than any other Security Chief (with the exception of Lt. J'Hana of the Explorer), but instead of rewarding her, Starfleet had reprimanded her and transferred her to this ship. They had even removed her from Security and made her a Command officer! How could she prove her worthiness, now? Her family would never regain its former glory now! These thoughts all swirled around in her head as she entered the transporter room. "Evening, with the fullness of night, Commander," Zamtra greeted the First Officer. "What... hmm, yes, good evening, Ensign," responded the Klingon. "Are we ready to receive our guests?" "Ready, in anticipation, waiting," came the response. "Ur... very well, energize." The familiar hum of the transporter intensified and then slowly subsided. Two figures were left standing on the pad. "Doctor Pish...," said Thog, stepping forward to shake her hand. "Eek!" squealed Pish and cowered behind the other figure on the pad. "Now, now, Doctor, she's just trying to shake your hand," comforted Security Chief Banjo, with a slight edge of disdain in his voice. The Doctor, her eyes wide with fright, timidly stepped around the Changeling and grasped the Klingon's huge hand. Apologetically, she gave it a slight shake, "I'm so sorry, when I saw you lunging at me, I just reacted. Please forgive me." "Think nothing of it, Doctor. I've read your personnel folder. Growing up in a Cardassian Labor Camp must have been quite an experience. Please let me escort you to Sickbay," replied the Klingon, almost whispering so as not to alarm the diminutive Doctor again. Turning to the Changeling she said, "Welcome to the Menagerie, Commander. The Captain is expecting you on the Bridge." "I'll head up there immediately, responded the Security Chief. "Please excuse me," he said and stepped out of the room. Now that Doctor Pish had had a chance to calm down, she realized that the First Officer was actually a female. She had met several male Klingon warriors in the past, but this was the first female Klingon she had ever seen. Turning from Banjo, Thog noticed that the Doctor had regained her composure and was, in fact, staring at her, intently. Not sure what to do about that, she simply asked, "Ready to go, Doctor?" "Yes, thank you, but please call me 'Jantoo'," came barely audible reply. "I hate all that strict formality." The pair exited the transporter room, the huge Klingon woman and the tiny Bajoran waif, and headed down the corridor towards Sickbay. The turbolift doors whooshed open and Commander Banjo stepped onto the Bridge of the USS Menagerie for the first time. Having heard the approaching turbolift (he IS a Vulcan, after all), Captain Seetamyn was waiting by the turbolift. "Welcome aboard, Commander. Before you settle in, I'd like to see you in my Ready Room," he said, gesturing for his new Security Chief to proceed him through the doors. Once seated inside, Seetamyn got right down to business. "Commander Banjo, can you offer me any reason why you have been elevated to the position of Chief of Security with no experience aboard any Starfleet vessel?" "Captain, I understand your concern, but rest assured that I understand the requirements and duties of such a position, intimately. Through the Great Link, I have gained detailed descriptions of the crises and difficulties faced by Odo during his time on Deep Space Nine. This background should allow me to perform my job as well as, if not better than, any Starfleet-trained person," the Changeling responded, smugly. "Commander, memories and descriptions are no substitute for the real thing. While I understand that Starfleet is under orders from the Federation Council to actively work with the Dominion, I believe that this posting is in error. Every other member of this crew has proven themselves to be a capable, competent officer. You come in with nothing better than "memories" and "descriptions" and expect to take a position of authority, on the Bridge no less!" Seetamyn was as close to being excited as he ever got. He was even speaking with exclamation points! "Captain, I'm surprised by this outburst. As you, yourself, have said, you're under orders to take me on as your Chief of Security. Whether you like it or not, I'm here and here I will stay. You'd better wrap your little solid mind around that concept because there is absolutely nothing you can do to change it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have duties to attend to." With that, the Changeling rose from his chair and left the Ready Room, and the Captain, behind. Seetamyn performed a few deep meditation exercises to return his mental equilibrium. He would tolerate a smug attitude if the crewman who held it was competent, but there was no evidence that Banjo was, in fact, competent or even qualified to fill the position he had been assigned to. Still, in the final analysis, it came down to orders, and his were to fill the position of Security Chief with Banjo. It was also possible that he was simply being tendentious against him because of lingering mistrust from the Dominion War. The Vulcan decided to keep an open mind and allow the new officer a chance to prove himself. After all, wasn't that what the Federation was all about? The Vulcan's musings were interrupted by the chirp of his commbadge; "Sir, there's something coming over the subspace Associated Worlds Network channel that you should see," came the voice of Lieutenant Mantron. "On my way," responded the Captain, as he rose from his chair and headed back to the Bridge. As the doors to the Ready Room opened, the Captain saw the United Federation of Planets logo on the main viewscreen. A deep, soothing voice was calmly saying, "Please stand by for an important announcement from Federation President, Bradley Dillon." Just as Seetamyn reached his captain's chair, the logo was replaced by what appeared to be a live broadcast from the Presidential Offices on Waystation. Bradley Dillon was standing at a podium, while Rusain Ambassador Kyyyecht and Starfleet Admiral Sontak stood behind him. President Dillon began to speak; "Citizens of the United Federation of Planets, a great new day is dawning in our collective history. Long a protector and defender of the virtues of tolerance and cooperation, Starfleet has embarked upon a new program to help bring renewed understanding and continuing peace to all member worlds and to encourage new worlds to join our great Federation. Under the initiative of Ambassador Kyyyecht and the leadership of Admiral Sontak, a new and wonderful experiment is now underway in Starfleet. I have just been informed that the final crew members have come aboard the USS Menagerie. This brand new Prometheus-class starship is the first ship to be commissioned for Project "Open Arms." This exciting new initiative has resulted in the first ever Starfleet vessel to be completely crewed by non-humans. That's right ladies, gentlemen and beings with no or multiple genders, this new ship has absolutely no human presence on board. And this is just the flagship of this new Project. Soon more all-alien ships will be deployed on missions of diplomacy, exploration or deterrence in all parts of known and unknown space. The Menagerie will remain the keystone of this program with the capability to perform any mission that needs doing. Another first for this fine ship reflects part of the new accord and understanding between the Federation and the Dominion. One of the rulers of that Gamma Quadrant empire has been placed on board the Menagerie. The unique abilities and training of Founder Banjo will, I'm sure, prove invaluable to this ship and her missions. Others among this fine crew include Captain Seetamyn, lately the Director of the Vulcan Institute of Meditative Studies, and a former Starfleet Science Officer, Ensign Dil Mantron, a Betazoid who is a veteran Helmsman, a pair of Bynars serving in the capacity of Chief Science Officer and a Velvattian Chief Engineer. As I have previously affirmed, the ENTIRE crew is made up of non-human personnel. However, the crew's non-human status was not the sole criteria for their selection to this ship. No sir!. In fact, a careful screening and evaluation project has been underway for the past several months to locate and transfer the absolute best of the alien officers serving throughout Starfleet. That process has resulted in the current crew complement aboard the Menagerie, Starfleet's newest, and brightest star! Citizens of the Federation, I thank you for your time and your continued support. This is Federation President, Bradley Dillon, signing off." "Screen off," intoned the Captain, solemnly, as he tried to ignore the gloating Changeling at the security console. Seetamyn tried to make sense out of what he had just heard. It appeared that along with normal mission criteria and parameters, his ship would also be responsible for public relations. "The flagship of this new Project," title was not, necessarily, a bad thing. But it did mean that the ship's performance would be closely scrutinized and second guessed. This didn't concern him overly much. With the possible exception of one person (tolerance, he reminded himself), he had complete confidence in his crew. Just then, the turbolift doors opened and Commander Thog stepped back onto the Bridge. Taking the lone seat next to the Captain she reported, "I have escorted Doctor Pish to Sickbay, sir. She seems to be settling in adequately." "Thank you, Commander," Seetamyn replied. "I will speak with her once we receive our new mission orders and are underway. In the meantime, could I see you in my Ready Room? Commander Banjo, you have the conn." With that, the Captain rose and re-entered his Ready Room, his First Officer accompanying him. Banjo hopped up from his Security Station and into the captain's chair, smiling broadly. <> Here he was, out in space, in command of one of Starfleet's newest and most powerful ships! If it weren't for the fact that he was surrounded by all these stupid 'solids', he would be completely happy. <> he mused, philosophically, to himself. Inside the Ready Room, the Vulcan and the Klingon taken seats on either side of the Captain's desk. Seetamyn had replicated himself a cup of green tea and Thog had gotten herself a V'haspant, a type of Andorian coffee. "Commander, I have not meant to neglect you in the interview process, but I thought I should talk to the crew members who seemed to be most in need of attention, first," Seetamyn began. "By all rights, the First Officer should have been my first interview, but I saw nothing untoward in your personnel file, so I decided that you could wait. Please forgive this lapse in protocol." Thog was dumbfounded. The Captain was apologizing to HER? This was a first. "Thank you, sir, but no apology is necessary. I live to serve." "Very well, Commander," the Captain acknowledged. "While we have a bit of free time, before our first mission briefing comes in, I'd like to go over some away mission protocols and discuss one other matter with you. First of all, I understand that as First Officer you will conduct most away missions. I will, however, be in charge of any diplomatic or scientific away teams. I believe that my background in these areas will prove to be more beneficial than your security training. Are we agreed?" "That sounds like a logical division of resources," the Klingon replied, smiling. "Indeed," returned Seetamyn, completely deadpan. "Now, speaking of security backgrounds, I'm sure you have noticed Commander Banjo at the Security Station. Starfleet has granted him an honorary rank of Commander and posted him as Chief of Security. I would like you to keep a discrete eye on him and if he does anything to put the ship in danger, do not hesitate to correct him. I would like to give him the benefit of the doubt, but my first duty is to the safety of this ship and her crew." "Understood, sir. I'll monitor his activities," promised the Klingon. "One question, Captain. If we come across a first contact away mission, who will handle it?" "That's a very good question, Commander. I believe a lot will depend on the particular situation. Let's evaluate each such mission as it arises and decide the best course of action then," responded the Captain, after several moments of thought. "Just as you say, sir," agreed the Menagerie's First Officer, finishing her V'haspant. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss?" "I believe that about covers it, Commander. You may return to the Bridge." "Aye, sir," said Thog, returning her and the Captain's empty cups to the matter reclamation unit, unasked, before exiting the Ready Room. Seetamyn was meditating in his quarters. It was deep into ship's night and Alpha Shift had long been off duty. His contemplation was interrupted by a chime from his desk viewscreen. Standing up from his exercise pad, he moved to his desk and activated the viewer. The unsmiling face of Admiral Sontak looked back at him. "Greetings Captain, I trust everything is functioning normally aboard the Menagerie," came the monotonic cadence of the Vulcan's voice across subspace. "Ship and crew are performing adequately," replied the nearly equally monotone of Captain Seetamyn. "Very good. I have your next assignment. You are instructed to proceed to the Murkon system to investigate some reports of impropriety involving sales of symbionts to the Orion Syndicate. I am sending along several library files which should provide background and ancillary information. Sontak out." "Bridge, this is the Captain. Set course for the Murkon system and engage at Warp 9.5. Seetamyn out." After getting the ship underway, Seetamyn retrieved the library files and got to work reading them, making notes on a PADD, as he did so. Captain's Log; Stardate 57402.54 - We have received our first real assignment from Starfleet Command. Apparently the Government of Bracktia Prime regards its symbiont population as a menace and not as the resource and repository of knowledge that other joined civilizations, such as the Trill, do. To that end they have, apparently, contracted with a group from the Orion Syndicate to sell some of the symbionts to wealthy parties for implantation. Symbiont implantation seems to be the newest craze among the jaded populace in the Alpha Quadrant. Several years ago, the starship Aerostar-A disrupted another such operation using Trill symbionts. The only difference there was that those symbionts had been stolen and the Trill actually wanted them back. Seetamyn had just finished briefing the Bridge crew on the mission. He could see everyone agreeing that the situation with the Bracktians was a horrible case of injustice, with one notable exception. "I fail to see a problem, here," opined Banjo. "The planet's duly elected governing body has decided to sell some animals, off world. This Orion Syndicate is providing brokerage services for the transaction and then acting as middlemen between the Bracktians and the people who wish to purchase the symbionts. What is the problem?" "The problem is that, once implanted, it is impossible to remove the symbionts," answered Pish Jantoo, the Menagerie's diminutive Doctor, "the process is irreversible." "So is ritual sacrifice, and several Federation member planets practice that. What makes this any different?" "What makes this different, is that the Bracktian government is selling sentient beings. This is expressly against Federation charter rules," responded Seetamyn. "Slavery has been outlawed in the Federation since its earliest days. The Bracktian's argument that these symbionts are evil and alien is spurious and irrelevant. Enslaving an evil being is just as illegal as enslaving a good being. You do bring up a good point, however. What the Bracktians are doing is well within their rights. Since they are not members of the United Federation of Planets, we cannot stop them selling the symbionts to the Orions. However, Starfleet Intelligence has uncovered information that the re-sale, and subsequent implantation of the symbionts will be taking place on a Federation world. It seems that the wealthy beings who are the potential targets of this operation are ill-inclined to leave the safety of Federation space. The Orions have been forced to set up a small sales/surgical showroom on Murkon 3." "It appears that we will still have the problem of what to do with the symbionts after we disrupt the Orion operation," reflected Lt. Commander Ustrano. "The Trill have agreed to provide a safe haven for the Bracktian symbionts. It appears that there is some conjecture that they might be cross-bred to produce stronger, smarter symbionts," the Captain explained. "That is why we will need to construct a holding pool for the symbionts that we rescue. Doctor Pish and Lt. Commander Ustrano will handle that. Commander Thog and Commander Banjo will come up with a rescue plan including an Away Team Member List and an Infiltration Supplies List. Once these lists are compiled, get with Lieutenant M'Dral to have everything ready. Lt. Commanders B1 and B2 will gather all the sensor data available on Bracktian symbionts and provide a tricorder profile for the Away Team. Lieutenant Mantron, we will need several possible exit courses calculated and ready to initiate. We have 6 hours until we reach the Murkon system. Everything needs to be in place by then. Meeting dismissed." The Murkon system was something of an anomaly, astronomically speaking. During the formation of the system, the outer 3 planets had, apparently, collided and been turned into an asteroid field. While asteroid fields were a not uncommon phenomenon, they were usually formed near the center of star systems. Murkon was practically unique in that the entire system was englobed in a rather dense cloud of planetary debris. Warp travel within the system was, obviously, impossible. The Menagerie came out of warp several astronomical units from the asteroid field. There, the talents of Dil Mantron were put to the test. Seemingly without any effort whatsoever, he deftly maneuvered the massive ship through the field and into the sensor shadow of Murkon 6, currently the only planet whose orbit positioned it between the field and Murkon 3, the only inhabited world in the system. Murkon 3 was a typical Federation world. High-rise offices and apartments covered much of the planet. Parks, spaceports and oceans covered most of the rest. From the dark side of Murkon 6 long range scans had detected a massive fleet of ships in orbit above Murkon 3. Most of the ships seemed to be private vessels, no doubt owned by the hopeful, would-be buyers. There were also 4 large Orion starships and several smaller Orion patrol craft visible, however. "There appears to be no trace of the Bracktian symbionts on any of the ships or on the planet's surface," came the sing-song, stereophonic announcement from B1/B2. "There is the possibility that we are too late," observed Banjo, smugly. "I think there is a much greater probability that we are too early," responded Seetamyn. "Starfleet intelligence reported that the initial transport of the symbionts had just started when they sent in their report. I believe that the Orions, not wishing to damage un-joined symbionts, would not have traveled as quickly as we have. Computer, assuming the Orions traveled from Bracktia Prime at Warp 6 and that they started within an hour after the Starfleet Intelligence report, when and where would they arrive at the outer field?" Calculations show they could appear In grid Delta Six (or very near) You did ask for the time But I'll forego a chime In three hours they will arrive here Stunned silence filled the Bridge. This silence was suddenly filled up with the raucous laughter of Security Chief Banjo. "What a joke! Newest ship in the fleet! 'Brightest and boldest'!" by this time the Changeling was laughing so hard that he was having trouble maintaining his shape. Ripples spread across his face and body and his entire form seemed to be melting. "This ship and crew are nothing but a joke!" "One wonders why YOU were included in such a joke," Seetamyn responded, placidly. Banjo immediately fell silent, contemplating this. "Lieutenant Mantron, bring us back to the asteroid field, grid Delta Six, and find us a good spot to hide. We will need to have a clear sensor window outside the system but need to be concealed from Murkon 3." "Lieutenant M'Dral, coordinate with B1 and B2 to try to find out what is wrong with the Computer." "Commander Banjo, since you seem to be fond of making your little, insubordinate comments, publicly, I will respond in a like fashion. One more such outburst denigrating this ship or her crew and I will remove you from duty, orders or no. Is that understood?" "Yes, Sir," came the reflective response. Seetamyn wished he could be sure that Banjo was considering what he had done, but he was sure that the Changeling was only reconsidering this posting, after Seetamyn's first comment. "Lieutenant Mantron, estimated time to our new position?" "Approximately 30 minutes, sir." "Very well. It appears we have a opportunity, here. If we can intercept that ship before it makes it to Murkon 3, we should have a much better chance of completing our mission. All senior staff will meet in the Briefing Room in one hour to come up with a new plan." "First of all, I'd like to say 'Good Job' to everyone for their previous preparations. It appears that most of them will not be required, now, but we will keep them available as a backup. Speaking of which, has the symbiont holding pool been readied?" Seetamyn opened the meeting in the Briefing Room. "Yes, sir," Doctor Pish replied, "all preparations for the safe transport of the symbionts are complete." "Excellent, now, has there been any progress made with the Computer situation? Lieutenant M'Dral, the Benzite operations officer, stood. After a few deep puffs on her external respirator, she said, "Captain, we have some good news and some bad news. Since we don't have any solution to the bad news, I hesitate to bring it up, but protocol requires me to report all of our findings to you." The Bynars, sitting next to her, solemnly nodded in agreement. "Very well, Lieutenant, what, then, is the good news?" "Well, sir," she began, again taking a few more puffs on her respirator, "the Computer system installed on this ship is the most advanced ever designed. With all of the different atmospheric and nutritional requirements of all the different species on board, Starfleet Research and Design decided that a new and better Computer was required. The bio-metric gelpacks have been upgraded to bio-neural gelpacks and the main core has been expanded by 50%." M'Dral paused at this point to take a few more puffs from her respirator. Thin wisps of specialized inhalant drifted towards the ceiling. "This means," she continued, "that the Menagerie has the most advanced ship's Computer in Starfleet, sir." "Yes, I agree that is, indeed, good news. Now, what about the bad news?" Nervously puffing on her respirator, M'Dral continued, "again, Captain, I only bring this up because you have specifically requested it. As you may know, Benzites do not, as a rule, report any problems until they have a solution figured out" puff, puff. "The Computer has decided that it wants to speak in limericks as an expression of its artistic nature. We have tried disabling the limerick subroutines but when we do, processing efficiency drops by 14% and all the holodecks go offline." She took a deep breath from her respirator. By now the ceiling was covered in a misty fog. "Can we replace the main Computer core with one of the backups?" asked Lieutenant Commander Ustrano. "No, sir," the nervous Benzite was really puffing away now, "apparently there was some sort of mix-up. All of our backup cores are standard size. If we were to switch to one of them,it is quite possible that the ship would end up completely dead in space." The fog covering the ceiling was slowly beginning to creep lower, and lower. "Very well, while it is a bit disconcerting to hear the Computer respond in rhyme, it is nothing we can't live with. We will try to coordinate a replacement the next time we dock at a Starbase," Seetamyn decided. "Now, for the immediate problem does anyone have any suggestions as to how we might liberate the symbionts?" "Why not just blanket the target area with a subspace static field to prevent the delivery ship from calling for help, and then confront them. If they resist, we can disable their shields and engines and then simply board them," Ustrano offered. "That will not be possible," the dulcet tones of the Bynars offered, "the debris in the asteroid field contains a high percentage of magnetic ore. Any sort of electrical or subspace field will create reflected interference back towards the center of the system. The other Orions would know that something was wrong almost immediately." "Not to mention the fact that, if it came to an exchange of weapons fire, there is no way to guarantee the symbionts' safety," interjected Commander Thog. "How about using the tractor beams to pull an asteroid into the path of the delivery vessel?" offered Dil Mantron. "The power needed to move an asteroid large enough to disable a ship would be easily detectable by the Orions around Murkon 3, not to mention the danger such an action would present to the symbionts," Seetamyn responded. "You solids and your love of technology," scoffed Banjo. "What is called for, here, is a good, old-fashioned clandestine infiltration." "Infiltrate a starship, in space, with enemy ships all around!" Lieutenant M'Dral exclaimed, puffing some more as the fog grew ever lower, "how is such a thing possible?" "Yes, please enlighten us," added the Captain. "First, one question for Lieutenant Commander Ustrano," responded the Changeling, turning to the Chief Engineer. "With Orion technology, is it possible to create a "hole" in the ship's shields and, at the same time, modulate the shields in such a way that communication from the ship is impossible?" "Orion technology is, basically, the same as Federation technology, which isn't surprising considering that they stole it from the Federation some time ago," Ustrano replied, its tentacles whirling angrily. "From Main Engineering it would be a relatively simple matter to re-configure the shield harmonics and warp emissions to create the effects you describe. I predict an 88% chance of success for such an operation." "Now, can a device be created to perform the actions you have described," asked Banjo. "Assuming that the Orion courier hasn't been modified too much from Federation specs, yes," affirmed the Engineer. "But you would have to be inside the ship, in Main Engineering in order to make it work. How will you manage that?" "It is simplicity, itself..." intoned Banjo, smugly. A few arguments followed, and the excited Benzite further confused matters by completely filled the Briefing Room with her respirant vapors, but finally, Banjo's plan was agreed to. Seetamyn concluded the meeting, "I think this plan offers us the best chance for success. Lets get to work on it, immediately. Now, if we can just make our way to the door through all this fog, we should be able to get started. Meeting adjourned." One hour later, all preparations were complete. The Captain, Banjo, Ustrano and Dil Mantron were in a shuttlebay standing around a converted photon torpedo, which now looked exactly like a nondescript piece of space-rock, except for the open hatch, where Banjo would enter the "Trojan Rock." "Very well, Banjo," the Captain began, "all of your equipment has been triple- checked. We will contact you when the Orion transport vessel enters the system and direct you to it. After that, it's up to you." "I understand, Captain," replied Banjo. "Perhaps, after this mission has established my /bona fides/, you will realize what an asset I am to this crew." With that, the changeling oozed into the modified torpedo housing. Ustrano attached a few more rocks over the entrance hatch with a molecular bonder, and then moved over to the shuttlebay control console. After activating the shuttlebay forcefields, he opened the massive outer doors. Then, using a tractor beam, which was normally used to bring shuttles on board, he deftly manipulated the disguised infiltrator through the fields and out into space. Giving it a gentle nudge with the tractor beam, he caused it to softly float away from the ship, towards the area that they hoped the Orions would appear in. He then secured the hanger door and powered down the control console. "Maybe we could just drift away and 'accidently' forget that he's out there?" suggested Mantron, hopefully. "You mean like all your previous captains have abandoned you?" asked Seetamyn. "Let's just man our stations and get ready for the arrival of our quarry." The Captain, Engineer and, suitably abashed Helmsman made their way to their stations to await developments. Ustrano, Mantron and M'Dral were huddled together at the back of the Bridge at the Engineering console, trying to come up with a way to bounce the sensor feeds off of the asteroids and improve the range of the sensor arrays, when the stereophonic voices of the Bynar Science Officers announced, "Contact on long range sensors! Ship approaching from the direction of the Bracktia system." The entire Bridge staff mobilized. Thog and Ustrano headed to Transporter Room One, where a Security Team had already been assembled. It had been previously decided that Mantron would stay at the Helm and the Bynars would man the Science console, leaving M'Dral in command during the Captain's absence. This had made her extremely nervous and the Bridge was beginning to fill with wisps of respirator-fog. The Captain had decided to remain on the Bridge for as long as possible in an, apparently, pointless attempt to keep the fog at bay. Doctor Pish was standing by in the arboretum, where the symbiont holding pool had been constructed. "How long until we can get an accurate reading on their course?" inquired Seetamyn. "With current sensor performance, approximately 4 minutes, sir," came the sing-song reply. With each passing second, tension increased (as did the fog). Everyone except the Captain could feel the strain of waiting. Seetamyn, if he felt it at all, disguised his emotions, as always. Finally, the Bynars spoke again, "We have determined the ship's course and are relaying intercept data to Commander Banjo." After another eternity of waiting, M'Dral yelled, "Data receipt acknowledged!" "Estimate time required for Commander banjo to intercept the ship," ordered Seetamyn, tersely. Well, to get to the Orion ship The Commander must make quite a trip Banjo will travel there With a magnetic snare In twelve minutes if there is no slip "Thank you, Computer. However, I was asking my Science Officers," observed Seetamyn, dryly. Lieutenant Mantron direct an ultra-low-power deflector beam at Commander Banjo's capsule to assist his approach to the Orion ship." "Aye, sir," came the terse response. Mantron's hands flew over his console, and then, "Sir, the Orions have some sort of low-level deflector screening up!. Commander Banjo's "rock" has been repelled!" "Keep trying, Mantron, but keep the power levels low so that they are not detected." "Yes, sir!" Mantron again sent the converted torpedo hurtling towards the Orion ship only to have it again be deflected away. Inside the "Trojan Rock", Commander Banjo had decided to go into his liquid, regenerative state. He flowed from end to end in his torpedo as it was bounced back and forth by the courier vessel and the Menagerie. He closely resembled one of those 'Wave Makers' that twenty-first century executives sometimes had in their offices, only he was orange, instead of blue. Back on the Menagerie, the Bynars suddenly announced, "Captain, Lieutenant! The Orion deflectors are only repulsing objects that come at them directly. Try to maneuver the Commander's rock at the ship in an oblique angle!" Closely examining his tactical display, Mantron used his deflector to send the converted torpedo crashing into an asteroid... and then another. It bounced off, spinning wildly and neared the Orion ship at a near-tangential angle. As it passed through the courier's deflector screen, the magnetic coupler that been installed in the torpedo activated and drew the infiltrator up to the ship's hull. Seetamyn saw the successful attachment of Banjo's "rock" and said, "Everything is going according to plan, so far. Good work, people." Continuing, he reminded the Bynars, "As soon as the hole opens in their shielding inform Ensign Zamtra. We don't know how long it will take the Orions to discover what Commander Banjo has done and try to retake their Engineering section. We still don't know how large a crew that ship has, either. I'm heading down to Transporter Room One, Everyone knows their assignments." With that he walked briskly into the turbolift and was whisked away. M'Dral rose from her seat at Ops and settled into the Captain's chair, puffing furiously. Mantron surreptitiously reached over to the Ops panel and switched on the high-speed fans on the climate control module. Inside the converted torpedo, Commander Banjo slowly came back to his senses. An insistent beeping was trying to tell him something, but the wild ride that he had just endured had scrambled his memory. <> was his first coherent thought. Slowly, he remembered where he was and what his mission was. Unstrapping the phaser rifle from its niche (Ustrano had secured everything very securely), he started blasting through the metal of the modified torpedo, the camouflage rocks and the Orion hull. Unfortunately, in order to most effectively disguise the torpedo, Ustrano had used actual pieces from the asteroid field. The magnetic ore in the rocks reflected a good portion of the phaser's energy back at Banjo. Sparks and small pieces of burning metal spit out from the rocks and landed, sizzling on the annoyed Changeling. Finally, he managed to burn a hole in the Orion's hull large enough for him to squeeze through. Through the rush of escaping air, he could hear the sound of alert klaxons sounding on the courier vessel. Quickly grabbing Ustrano's sabotage device, he slithered through the improvised airlock and disguised himself as a door in the corridor he emerged in. Orions came rushing to the site of the hull breach. "Quickly, get that plating over here. Bring that phaser welder, too. Somebody get a fire extinguisher, fast. It looks like that door over there is smoking!" The Orion repair crew quickly went about their business and soon the breach had been sealed and the alarms silenced. The crew went back to their normal duty stations leaving a slightly frostbitten, slightly singed and completely pissed off Changeling reforming into his humanoid form. Using his knowledge of standard Alpha Quadrant ship layouts, Banjo quickly made his way to Main Engineering. After throwing the Chief Engineer down the warp core shaft he installed Ustrano's device and activated it. Two other engineers walked in and he slammed them against the Engineering Office. He was beginning to feel better already. Transporter Room One was very crowded. Ensign Zamtra was the only occupant with any elbow room, whatsoever. In addition to Captain Seetamyn, Commander Thog and Lt. Commander Ustrano, there were two other Velvattians, four Klingons and a Bolian. This compromised Commander Banjo's "Alien Assault Force." It was quite likely the most lethal Away Team Starfleet had ever assembled. These seven were currently occupying the pad with Commander Thog, as they would be beamed over first to help secure the Orion's Engineering section. The slightly fruity scent of the Velvattians' evaporating slime-trails was currently fighting a battle with the steamy musk of Klingons, ready for battle. It was anybody's guess which would win, but there was no doubt that Seetamyn and Zamtra were currently losing. "Zinda, his lunch rising!" gagged the young Tamarian. "Steady, Ensign," advised Seetamyn, "try not to think about it." "Yes, sir," the Transporter Chief managed to choke out, tears running down his face. Just then a light lit on the transporter console. Heaving (literally) a sigh of relief, Zamtra sent the "Alien Assault Force" over to the Orion transport ship. Seetamyn's commbadge chirped "Good news, sir," came the unmistakable voices of the Bynars, "the Orion ship is a smallish courier vessel, Opportunist-class. There should be no more than 50 crewmen on board." Seetamyn and Ustrano hopped on the pad and were whisked away by Zamtra's talented fingers. Tapping his commbadge, the Ensign informed the Bridge, "The Away Teams are gone. The Captain got the last message before he left. Transporter Room One, standing by." Seetamyn rematerialized in the Orion ship's Engineering section, ready for a battle. What he saw was decidedly anti-climatic. Two unconscious Orions were tied up inside the Engineering Office. Other than that, he and Ustrano were the only people in the section. Ustrano moved over to the main console and began typing commands into the system. It quickly pulled up a schematic of the ship which it showed to Seetamyn. Thus oriented, the Vulcan quickly moved off towards the Bridge where he hoped to be able to tap into the main Computer and find out where the symbionts were being held. As he ran through the corridors he heard the distant sounds of the 'Alien Assault Force' crying 'Havoc' as they let slip the dogs of war on the unsuspecting Orions. Coming around the last corner before the Bridge, he surprised a young Orion. Before he could react, the green-skinned alien had raised his blaster and fired at the Captain. Diving out of the line of fire, Seetamyn felt a searing heat caress his left side. Spinning back around, he got the drop on the Orion and stunned him with his phaser. Pushing himself up, he noticed that the Orion's blast hadn't missed him after all. His left arm had been disintegrated to just above the elbow. Examining the wound, he realized that the intense heat of the blaster beam had effectively cauterized the would. Knowing that he was in no danger of bleeding to death, he continued on to the Bridge. As the Bridge doors opened, a large Orion seated in the captain's chair asked, "Well, did you find out what all the commotion was about?" Realizing that the captain hadn't seen him, yet, Seetamyn quickly stunned him as well as the remaining two officers on the Bridge. He then quickly moved over to the Science Station and, mentally thanking Surak that the pirates hadn't bothered to encrypt the files, retrieved the data he was after. Tapping his commbadge, he opened a channel back to Zamtra on the Menagerie, "Ensign, have you been in contact with Lt. Commander Ustrano and downloaded a copy of this ship's schematic?" "Affirmative and absolutely, sir," came the excited response. "Excellent! Beam me directly from here to cargo bay 7 so that I can ready the symbionts for transport back to the ship." Seetamyn dissolved, leaving the Bridge and reappearing in a darkened cargo bay. His Vulcan eyes soon discerned a four meter diameter pool, filled with a thick, green, viscous fluid. Hurrying over he could just make out the forms of the symbionts swimming excitedly around their enclosure. Attaching a transporter beacon to the pool, he, again, contacted Zamtra, "Ensign, transport the contents of the pool marked with the beacon to the holding pool constructed by Doctor Pish and Lt. Commander Ustrano. When she is satisfied that they have all been transported, safely, beam me and the rest of the Away Teams back to the ship." The darkness was soon broken by the energy signature of a wide-beam transporter. The symbionts quickly disappeared. Moments later, Seetamyn felt the familiar sensation of dissolution as he, too was taken apart, molecule by molecule, and then reassembled elsewhere. "Captain!" Zamtra's exclamation was the first thing Seetamyn heard as he rematerialized in Transporter Room One, "Shaka, when the walls fell! You've lost your arm!" "Not only that, Ensign," came the Captain's response, "I've also ruined this uniform's sleeves! But it could be worse, had I been a twentieth century Human, I would have likely also have lost my watch!" With this non sequitur, the Captain collapsed, unconscious, to the deck. Thinking quickly, the young Tamarian lifted the Captain back on to the transporter pad and quickly transported him to Sickbay. Opening a channel to Doctor Pish, he explained the situation and then transported her, too. This accomplished, he began retrieving the Away Teams. Rematerializing back on the Menagerie, Commander Thog noticed the pale face of the Transporter Chief. "What's wrong?" she demanded. "It's the Captain," came the wavering voice of the Tamarian, "they've blown off his arm!" "What?!" shouted Ustrano, Banjo and Thog, simultaneously. "Yes, sirs. The Captain came back over and collapsed. I've beamed him to Sickbay." "I see," responded Thog. "In that case, Ensign, beam the three of us back to the Pirate's ship." The three officers re-mounted the transporter pad and disappeared, again. "What is your plan?" asked Banjo. "I think we should pay back these Orion scum for what they did to the Captain," came Thog's response. "I think we should blow up their ship!" "I thought that sort of thing was against your precious Starfleet rules," returned Banjo, genuinely surprised. "Our mission parameters require us to safely transport the symbionts to Trill. Carrying un-joined symbionts, we can't go faster than Warp 6. If the Orions realize that we have stolen the symbionts from them, they will easily be able to overtake us and attack. This would endanger the symbionts and put the mission in jeopardy. Therefore, we must make sure that the Orions have no knowledge of our activities, here. If we can set up a timed warp core breach on this ship and slip away before the explosion, the other Orions will think that this ship, in a hurry to deliver the symbionts, bounced off one asteroid too many and went 'boom'." Ustrano, can such a delay be set up?" "Easily, Commander. How much time would you like it to take?" "Give us an hour to cruise away. We can take special care to mask our warp emissions and ion trail." "Revenge, dishonesty and ruthlessness? Perhaps you solids have more to you than meets the eye!" observed Banjo with something approaching admiration in his eyes. The three set to work, scuttling the Opportunist-class vessel. First Officer's Log; Stardate 57409.86 - Apparently the Orions were not successful in disabling the warp field restriction protocols we had installed on their ship. Sensors indicate that the ship suffered a warp core breach and was destroyed 7.2 minutes ago. We are traveling to the planet Trill at Warp 5.8 to deliver our cargo of Bracktian symbionts. Estimated time for arrival is 3.5 days. Meanwhile, the Captain is still in surgery. Doctor Pish informs us that Captain Seetamyn's body absorbed a high level of radiation from the Orion blaster beam that claimed his arm. This will make cloning a new arm for him impossible at the present time. She is, therefore, grafting on a mechanical prosthetic device. I'm told that it will be indistinguishable from his real arm. "It's green!" shouted Commander Thog, scaring Doctor Pish. The Doctor began cowering away, but Commander Banjo restrained the Klingon, saying "I'm quite sure that she can see that! Now, if you can't keep your voice at a reasonable volume, Commander, I'll will have to escort you from Sickbay!" The Klingon was stunned by this response. A Changeling lecturing her on Starfleet protocol? She was about to launch into a tirade about the chain of command, when she caught the Captain's eye. Looking between the cowering Bajoran and the Security Chief, she thought she detected a hint of tenderness or even affection in the Changeling's face. Taking a breath, she said, instead, "I apologize, Doctor. The unexpectedness of the situation caught me off-guard. I will try to modulate my voice in the future." "So, Commander, what do you think of my new appendage?" asked the Vulcan, holding up his decidedly green-tinted new limb. "It's green, sir," responded his First Officer. "Yes, you have already said that. Apparently the syntheflesh reacted to my Vulcan blood and the residual radiation from the blaster by turning this decorative shade of chartreuse." "Actually, sir, it appears to be more of an emerald-green," the Klingon responded. "I think it looks more lime-green," offered the Bajoran Doctor. "You silly solids! Anyone can see it is more of an avocado," admonished Banjo. "Excellent, I see we must be out of danger by your preoccupation with such trivial details." "Yes, sir," replied the grinning Klingon woman, "we are currently en route to Trill. The symbionts seem to be fine." "That's right, sir," chimed in Doctor Pish, "I have been monitoring their vital signs and they all appear to be doing well. Now you need to remain quiet and rest some more while I do some more analysis to make sure that this syntheflesh reaction is over and that your body doesn't start rejecting your new arm." "Very well, Doctor," said the Captain, generating a slight frown from the Doctor. "Commander, you have the Bridge." "Aye, sir," affirmed Thog as she and Banjo left Sickbay and headed back to the Bridge. Captain's Log; Stardate 57424.6 - We have delivered our cargo of Bracktian symbionts to Trill. The Keepers of Agratha, one of the semi-mystical symbiont maintenance societies have set up a special holding pool on Trill's southernmost continent to facilitate cross-breeding of the Bracktian symbionts with their Trill counterparts. This sounds like a fascinating exercise and I'm sure we will be hearing more about this intriguing study in the future. Ship and crew and now on relaxed duty as we travel to Starbase 17 to pick up our Hospitality Officer, Starfleet's new designation for what used to be called a Chief Bartender. On a more personal note, I have finally managed to track down an old Earth dictionary, something called the "The American HeritageŽ Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition," wherein the following definition may be found: meˇnagˇerˇie (noun) 1. 1. A collection of live wild animals on exhibition. 2. An enclosure in which wild animals are kept. 2. A diverse or miscellaneous group. I can only believe that Starfleet was denigrating this noble experiment by selecting the name of the ship to reflect the first definition. However, after serving with this crew for the past month and especially after the recent altercation with the Orions, I believe that the second definition is the most accurate description for this crew. And I wouldn't have it any other way.