Star Trek: Mission Delta

[4thdimension]

• Star Trek
• Mission Delta
• Excerpt, Chapter 1
• Katana'clan swept his view across the rocky plateau. White streaks of lightning arched in jagged lines across an obsidian black sky, fat drops of rain pelted his dull blue skin. He sniffed the air, his grip tightening on the klingon batliff that he'd pulled from his fallen comrade's chest.
• He looked down at the Klingon, Bar'al, as his armer laden chest resettled into the mud, his limp body flopping like a children's doll. Katana'clan stepped over the body and headed further on into the misty night.
• "Victory is life". The Jem'hadar growled in way of farewell to the fallen warrior. His night vision provided him with a clear path to the mountain a half kilometer to the west. He proceeded, scanning left and right, constantly. The batliff was pulled toward his chest, blades facing outward. He knew that the Hirogen would prefer to take it's prey by hand if possible.
• The mountain he sought grew nearer and nearer, and then, all at once Katana'clan heard a twig snap behind him, in the same moment he felt his body twisting, the blade of the batliff meeting the Hirogen's metal armer with a resunding clang. For a moment the night was a blaze with sparks, he saw the Hirogen's rough, orange skin wrinkle into a smile. Katana'clan was first to act, he swung the blade at the Hirogens temple in a skillful swing, but the Hirogen was faster. It swung down and away, and the Jem'hadar felt a thick metallic boot in his gut, and felt the larger alien's blade slash across his chest. His blood mixed with the rain, precious tetracil white wasting away in the downpour.
• A part of him registered the wound, a bigger, more primal part countered the Hirogen as it slashed again with the dagger. Katana'clan kicked savagely into the aliens side as the blade went wide. The Jem'Hadar's hand moved for his own blade as he threw the batliff away, the next moment he felt the Hirogen's thick blood spraying on his rough, rigid face. The Hirogen fell back, it's hand groping at the slash along it's thick orange neck. As the large male hit the ground it's hand found the plasma weapon in the mag-lock on it's leg, pulled it out, and droped it again as Kata'clan's blade found it's eye.
• lightning flooded the sky, much closer this time. in the momentary daylight Katana'clan's eyes swept the rocky plateau. To the left, five Hirogen walked in formation toward Ba'rall, the fallen member of the Klingon/Starfleet Joint task force. The Hirogen's large plasma rifles swung back and forth in the air, tasting it, scanning it. Kata'clan nelt down beside the fallen Hirogen, pulled it's plasma weapon from it's mag-lock plate. The jem'hadar ran into the night, toward the mountain. Toward the caves where his superior officer hid, awaiting rescue. The Klingon Special Ops officer dead in the mud was cut into pieces as the Hirogen claimed their trophy in the night.
• The USS Prometheus, flag ship of Star Fleet, orbited a small class M planet on the edge of what had once been Borg space. Captain Geordy Laforge scanned the read out on his tactical display that set nestled between his chair and the chair of his acting first officer, tactical expert on Borg Captain Elizabeth Shelby . His light blue cybernetic eyes didn't miss the tension that tightened her body, nor that of his own.
• "Engeneering, report." The tension, fear, in his own voice surprised him, embarrassed him. It had been many years since he'd been face to face with the Borg, and many years since Star Fleet had even heard from them. The actions of Admiral Janeway on the fateful day of her return from the Delta Quadrant had been profound. Some of Star Fleet's brightest speculated that the Borg collective might have even been destroyed, but as the Star Fleets official probe into that quadrant arrived two days ago, the Prometheus's long range scanners told them otherwise. The Borg were not only here, judging by the number of transwarp trails in the area, they wer thriving. Laforge felt like a man lost at sea, clinging to a plank of balsa wood, with sharks circling. He shook the image off. The promethius was far from a sunken dingy. She was the creme de la creme of the fleet. Her offensive and defensive prowess surpassing even that of the Enterprise and the legendary Defiant class starship.
• "Transwarp drive is on stand by sir." Ford, from engineering reported as required, and Captain LaForge noted the slight edge of fear in his voice as well. La forge stood, taking a few steps toward the towering view screen, and turned to tactical.
• "Mr. T'val, deploy armer." The tacticle officer swiftly complied and LaForge felt the replicated armor sliding into place along the outer hull. The promethious was one of the few vessels to be fitted with the futuristic armer. The Enterprise had proven too large, the defiant, too small. Very few really understood the exact workings of the armer. It was a matter of luck that it had yielded itself perfectly to the experimental Prometheus as well as the Intrepid class. LaForge turned back to the view screen, swearing quietly to himself.
• "Sir?" T'val from tactical inquired. Laforge turned, shaking his head. Shelby shared his concern, she stared straight ahead, toward the dark, bleak planet below. Brilliant flashes of lighting flashed along the surface. Dark masses of cloud engulfed the surface obscuring the rocky surface below.
• "Activate the cloak lieutenant." The vulcan's head turned less than a quarter of an inch to the left, indicating great confusion, or perhaps, more appropriately for a Vulcan, the reaction to an illogical request. With the Prometheus clocked, any survivors on the surface who had managed to salvage scanning equipment from the wreckage of the Dominion convoy vessel would not be able to detect them. Regardless, T'val did as he was told.
• "Cloak activated Captain." The Vulcan intoned from tactical. LaForge nodded toward the view screen, and returned to his seat. He noted with concern the tension he saw in his bridge crew. All except for T'val. The Captain assumed that the feeling was there, somewhere, if he ever cared to dig deep enough to find it. Right now however, he had larger issues then an uptight tactical officer.
• "Scan for life signs." The words stuck in his throat, now that the time had come to say them. Zero hour. Admiral Picard was alive, or he wasn't. It was time to find out.

Katana'clan reached the caves of the shale mountain and fell into it's tight opening. Blood ran from his mouth, plasma exploded behind him. Admiral Jean Luc Picard turned from the ad hoc transporter pad at his side at a speed that belied his age.
"Katana'clan!" The frail human was at his side in a moment, it's soft pink hands feeling along the ridges of the Jem'hadar's head, feeling for a pulse. He could feel the human's eyes boring into the gaping hole in his back. Plasma rifle damage that no amount of white could silence in time.
"Picard....go now." With that, Katan'clan was dead.
Picard was suddenly very aware that the firing had stopped. Hirognen. The Hirogen were outside of the cave, and the Admiral had no delusion as to what they would do if they caught him here. He placed a parting hand on the fallen Jem'hadar, a brave man, and a good star fleet officer. Then, very slowly, he backed into the cave.
His feet met the flat plastic of the transporter pad, very out of place in this cave, and he spoke to the computer, not knowing whether he should expect a reply. As two eight foot Hirogen entered the cave, their long curved blades at the ready, stepping over the body of Commander Katana'clan, Picard dissipeared in a shower of blue light.

"Captain, I'm detecting a subspace signature." T'val called out, his face a solid wall of utter detachment. Nevertheless the import of what he was saying was not lost on Laforge. "A federation transporter signal." Laforge was in action at once.
"All right people, this is it." He was behind T'val at tacticle in an instant, his hand clapping down the stoic Vulcan. "I want that signal traced, and I want to know where the Captain is, now!"
"Captain!" Laforge swung back to T'val, something was wrong. Very wrong. The Vulcan's left eye brow was cocked approximately a half centemeter higher than the right, his fingers pushing firmly into the console. T'val turned towards to the Captain. "Two vessels have entered the system. I have identified them as Hirogen warships."
"Hirogen? Out here?" Laforge restrained himself from checking the Voyager Database himself, instead he made his way back to his command chair.
"Affirmative Captain. Two Hirogen warships, bearing 321. mark 3. They are on an intercept course Captain, presumably toward the planet."
Laforge let out a long sigh, weighing his options. "Have they seen us?"
"I do not belive so, sir. However, there is a chance that they have detected the transport presumably made by Admiral Picard." Laforge scoffed, shook his head and stood again.
"No, not from that range." He turned towards his communications officer, lieutenent Tony Reed. "lieutenent, are they making any communications that you can detect?" Leutinent Reed did not need to check his readings again, he had been diligenetly monitoring the situation.
"Negative sir. No communication whatsoever. They're running silent."
"Here I was expecting to face the Borg after all these years." Captain Shelby spoke up from the commander's chair. Laforge regarded her with a mixture of repulsion and amusement.
"One at at a time Elizabeth." Laforge said. Captain Shelby smiled. Laforge nodded toward leutinent Reed. "Let's see them."
Reed made a few deft movements across the holographic control interface and the ships came in view. They were huge, easily dwarfing the Prometheus. Long and cylindrical, they looked more like the plasma rifles that the Hirogin sported then space fearing vessels. The entire bridge crew watched in silence as the vessels passed by.
"Laforge to transporter room one, I need a lock on Admiral Picard, and I need it now."
"Impossible Captain, through this much interferance. I have a lock on Commander Katana'clan's combadge, but not Admiral Picards. I can tell that the Admiral is not in the immediate area, but that's all. " The crisp Bolian transporter officer's voice was laced with regret. Captain Laforge considered a moment.
"Allright then, Ensign Torbun, beam Commander Kata'clan directly to the situation room." Laforge walked to the ready room without looking back at his bridge crew. He tapped his com badge once. "Senior officers to the situation room now."
The smoldering body of his first officer met him on the other side, his dark crimson blood soaking into the carpet.

[4thdimension]

Jean Luc Picard materialized on the creaking deck of a Dreadnought class Dominion warship, it's smoldering bridge lit dimly in emergency lighting. A dead Vorta hung limply across the only chair, his command visor splayed over his face at an odd angle. The Captain stepped around the command chair, counting the dead Jem'Hadar on deck. Eleven, the entire bridge crew. When he'd been on board this vessel only a few hours before to join Commander Kata'clan in greeting his former superior, the mission had seemed simple.
The Borg had been detected along sector 342, thirteen sectors away from the Federation's first Delta Quadrant outpost, Deep Space 12. Star Fleet ordered a probe deeper into the quadrant, to the last known border of Borg space. The vessels that had attacked the Dominion's contribution to the effort had not been Borg however, and now Captain Picard was faced with the task of eluding a force who could cripple the Dominion's most powerful warship in less time then it had taken the massive ship to enter orbit around this desolate planet.
A bulkhead dematerialized in front of Picard, dissolving into a wall of golden liquid. Picard let out a sigh of relief. "Ambassador Odo." The founder materialized into solid form and gave a gruff harrumph in the Captains direction, moving quickly past the Captain towards the command chair.
"Admiral Picard." Odo said in his gruff voice. There was no time for pleasantries. The Founder began imputing commands into the dimly lite command console, Picard moved to his side. Odo looked up,and then down again, as if he'd forgotten the Admiral was there. "Do you know what hit us?" he asked over his shoulder, slamming his fist into the command console, it had gone black.
"Hirogen." The Captain said simply.
"Hirogen?" The changeling shook his head, the smooth lines of his face wrinkling in disgust. "According to our probes, the Hirogen don't have access to transwarp drive, and their borders are hundreds of light years away." He moved off to check the pulse of the Vorta commander.
Picard tugged at the bottom of his uniform, and followed the Founder to the command chair. he placed his hand gingerly on the Founder's back.
"The Hirogen are nomadic Predators. Either way Ambassador, this isn't your fight. Our primary objective must be to get to the safety of the Prometheus." Odo's hand slid off of the dead Vorta's neck, he turned to the Captain, snorted and turned away again.
"It's my fight as long as Nerys is in this sector, Admiral." Picard nodded, knowing that it would do no good arguing with the Changeling. This was, after all, the reason for the Dominion's assistance in assessing the new Borg threat. Captain Kira Nerys had dissipeared in this sector, after a battle with an unidentified race. A race that was certain to have not been the Hirogen, the subspace signature had been far too alien for that. The Defiant B had not been heard from since. Now, three months later Ambassador Odo had convinced the Federation counsel to pursue the matter, in order to ensure the security of Deep Space 12. Only a handful of Federation citizens new the true reason for the Dominion's generous offer of assistance.
"Ambassador, the Hirogen are here, now, on this planet. The Prometheus is in orbit by now, our greatest chances for finding Nerys are up there." The Admiral Softened his tone, taking a look around the junked battle ship. "Not here."
A Dominion portable scanner on the Vorta's belt beeped once, and then began to reverberate in a steady, deep tone. Picard stared at the scanner, weariness narrowing his eyes, creases in his forehead deepening. Odo threw a Vorta hand weapon his way.
"I'm getting too old for this, you know."
The changing grunted in his gruff way, his hands elongating and solidifying into two serrated blades. " If the Prometheus is up there, now would be a good time for them to." Odo paused a moment to remember the proper term. "Beam us up."

[4thdimension]

Geordy Laforge stood in shocked horror at the situation room door. Kata'Clan was clearly dead, his mid section burned and molten, forming a two foot hole in the Jem'Hadar's body. Slowly the Captain of the Prometheus headed backward, into the bridge. Tapping his com badge he found his voice. "Transporter room one, emergency site to site transport. Commander Kata'Clan to sickbay."
Shelby stood from her station in the center of the bridge, slapping her com badge. "Security team one to the bridge." T'val moved to the situation room, gently moving around Captain Laforge as commander Kata'Clan dematerialized before their eyes. Laforge turned to Captain Shelby. "I'll be in sickbay, you have the bridge." As the turbolift doors closed behind him, she found herself once again wishing to be up against the Borg. Anything other than the unknown.
Laforge stepped into sickbay to find that Doctor Gorthux had already pronounced his first officer dead. He stepped up to his friends ruined body, studying the burn marks, the gaping hole.
"Hirogen weopans." The Denobulan Doctor stated in a flat voice that said he expected Laforge to ask the question. "massive damage to the anterior armor plating. I'm sorry Captain. There was nothing to be done." Laforge nodded.
"I know Doctor. What I don't know is what happend down there. Is there anything you can tell me?" The denobulan shrugged and moved over to a holographic imaging tank in one corner of the room, telling the computer to display a foreinsic map of the Commander's body. Laforge moved over to stand with the Doctor, and the Denobulan proceeded.
"We can see, here, and here." He said, pointing to great slashes that resolved out of the burn marks on Katana'Clan's body. "These slash wounds were incurred before the plasma damage." The doctor turned away from the screen, looking at his Captain, considering how to phrase what he must say. "From the looks of this Captain, I have to tell you, it is apparent that he was hunted in a manner consistent with Hirogen tactics." Laforge looked down at his dead friend, looked up again.
"You mean he was chased to exhaustion, then gutted."
Doctor Gorthux turned to face Laforge. "There's something else sir." he turned back to the holographic display and pointed to an orange read out above the swirling photons that represented the Jem'Hadar. "The scan has revealed blood from Bekk Bar'al, and skin cells from Admiral Picard on Commander Katan'Clan's skin and uniform. I can tell you for certain that he was within a few feet of Admiral Picard within the last hour."
Laforge felt a chill, he felt sick. His friend of more than 15 years was down there somewhere, among the most fearsome hunter the galaxy had ever produced. he had to admit to himself that Picard might already be dead.
"If you need me Doctor, I'll be in transporter room one."

[4thdimension]

Details for this work in progress:
Title - Star Trek: Mission Delta
Author- Tommy Charles
( e-mail address removed for security reasons )
Spoilers - Briefly mentions NEM, but does not spoil anything.
Rating- PG-13

[4thdimension]

(BTW, this story is PG-14)

The hunters made their way along the dark corridor, their plasma rifles honing in on the single life form on the alien bridge. The dark carpeted deck was littered with bodies, all nearly identical to the prey who had succomed in the cave. Very worthy prey. It was a shame that the crash had been so severe. Now there was only the weak human, hardly fit for the hunt. Four hunters closed in on the bridge as twenty three more continued to search the large vessel for salvageable technology, anything to teach them more about this new prey. The value of knowledge was not lost on the Hirogen.
Toros, the Alpha, made a sharp move with his right hand, and the group fell to the deck. The door to the bridge was dead ahead now, debris and blood littered the entrance.

What could be seen of the door beyond the two foot line of sight that the jammed door provided seemed to be empty. Trox, a young hunter, inexperienced, called out to the Alpha in their sub vocal range of communication, asking why the pack had stopped. The Alpha turned and pointed the rifle at the youths chest, screaming for him to be silent. It was foolish to assume that the human did not have equipment that could hear their speech.
Toros input his orders into the console of his rifle; they would charge in 30 seconds, trox in the rear. The youth hung his head in shame. Inexperience could prove fatal if Toros allowed them to make the mistake of underestimating the prey. The Hirogen who had dealt with the Janeway human years ago had learned that lessen painfully.

Five seconds to go, and the pack formed up. Toros in the lead, followed by Sor and flanked by Coros, the hunter who had made the first kill on the Klingon with the prey's own weapon. With such an honorable trophy, Coros would soon become a threat to Toros, but for now, he was needed in the group.
Two seconds to go and the pack braced to charge, so caught in the frenzy of the hunt, having the prey pined down that they failed to notice that the view into the bridge had been obscured by a flowing golden form. The next moment Toros felt sharp metal running through his throat, below his face mask, the proto-plastic limb went on to impale Sor behind him. The limb was retracted in a flash and a sun hot poleron beam struck Toros in the chest. The last thing he saw was the human's face, from within the bridge. At least he'd been killed by a male.

Coros hesitated. It would have been a quick end to the hunt if he'd fired the plasma rifle into the bridge. Instead he stood there, marveling at the golden life form that their scanners had not detected. He met it's eyes, there was a sense of motion from the new prey, then his vision shifted wildly, and a moment later his head met the floor followed by his huge body.

As if caught in a catastrophic domino effect, Trox, the youngest of the hunters, stood and stared dumbly at the liquid prey. The demon who had just killed the Alpha, and Betas, with nothing more than his own freakish body. Trox ran down the corridor, several minutes later emerging on the surface, he vomited onto the hard dark surface of Valrush, the Sacred Hunting Grounds. They had all thought themselves blessed when the strange vessel had pulled into orbit, now, he wasn't so sure.

[4thdimension]

"What Happened back there Torbun?" Geordy Laforge was a laid back and well liked Commanding Officer, he always had been. But when his first officer gets beamed into his ready room instead of sick bay when he has a two foot hole in his chest, he feels that he has to put his foot down. With two Hirogen War Ships sharing an orbit with him, his old Captain and close friend lost on the surface, and the Klingon exchange officer probably dead as well, Captain Laforge was not in one of his better moods.

He figured he'd might as well add the fact that the Dominion's good well gesture had just been detected through the planet's hellish atmospheric interference in a smoldering heap on the surface to the list as well. The Captain hated the dominion, just as everyone did, but he liked Odo well enough. Goodness knows he's the only one keeping a leash on those things, he thought. It didn't help either that scanning the surface for anything smaller than a shuttle was proving impossible.
"Sir, there was no way to know what condition Commander Clan was in at the time of beam up. All I could get a lock on was his com badge, and even that was shaky." The Bolian was nearly whimpering, but Laforge did not allow that to temper his resolve.

"I understand that Mr. Torbun, but what I need you to understand is that it is your job to inform me when something is simply impossible. Transporting like that could have left Clan that way with or without Hirogen help." The bolian held Laforg's gaze until the Captain looked away. "Return to your post."

Captain Laforge left the transporter room in favor of heading to the turbolift instead of watching the Bolian shuffle back to his station. He remembered a simpler time, a time before the war.
"Oh, Data, we really need to burn the midnight oil on this one." Talking to his dead android friend was not something that was particularly conductive to his solving this problem, so he spoke to the computer instead as the turbolift doors closed behind him.
"Shuttle bay one."

[4thdimension]

Captain Picard holstered the Poleron weapon and stepped around Odo, taking in the carnage. He scanned the corridor ahead of them and then knelt down, testing the weight of the Hirogen Plasma Rifle. Suprisingly light he hoisted the weapon easily. Staring down at the control console, he dared not attempt touch the device. This vessel was likely swarming with Hirogen by now, he reasoned.

"An amazing performance Ambassador." Picard said over his shoulder.
"It's amazing the things you learn in the Link." The changling called from within the bridge. "The main communications node is destroyed. This ship is useless." Picard stood and returned to the bridge, maneuvering the plasma rifile around the door frame. He noticed that indeed, all control surfaces were now black; no power anywhere. "I don't suppose you have anymore of those portable transporter pads on you?" The Captain shook his head, that had been a one time trick. An experimental field tricorder, capable of replicating several materials and tools had been the saving grace that had saved Picard from the Hirogen blade before. Unfortunatly it now rested on the cave floor, or had been scooped up by a curious hunter.
"Unfortunately not, Ambassador." He scanned the bridge, and as his eyes fell for the second time on the Vorta's command Visor a smile spread across his face. " But perhaps we don't need it."

Odo nodded his understanding. "I'll guard the door."

[4thdimension]

The tubolift doors opened on a shuttle bay that was hosting a sight that most star fleet officers would find very alien. Not so for the Captain of the flag ship of the fleet. Star Fleet Marines had become a matter of survival in the post Dominion War Federation yet very few could confirm their existence. A dozen men and woman dressed in hard black battle armor were sitting on the fins of the Dela Flyer class shuttle that was the center piece of the bay. Tom Paris's design had so impressed the Star Fleet Corps of Engineers that they had patitioned Star Fleet to produce it in mass. This particular shuttle was obsidian black, fitted with a clocking device, and sported a full compliment of transphasic torpedoes.

As Geordy entered the room the Marines snapped to attention, the light gleaming off of the silver star fleet insignia brazened on the chest of each marine. Geordy was never really comfortable in their presence, and though he would never say it to the admiralty, he disliked having them on his ship. He found himself pining more and more for the days of simple space exploration. A time of a more innocent Star Fleet. Now though, as he prepared to send these men into battle, he was glad that hostile away missions were no longer conducted by Officers of any rank.
"Good afternoon men. Your orders are simple. Locate Admiral Picard." Laforge raised a small triangular device to eye level. "Place this on him and activate it." He paused to let it set in. Not that he thought that these men and woman were less than intellegent, but because he needed them to understand how important this was to him. "Once Picard's transponder is activated, all of yours will be activated too, and we'll beam you all out."
Laforge stopped talking, the Maurine's formed up, saluted in unison, and filed into the shuttle.
"God speed." Laforge said to their backs. Once the hatch was sealed Laforge turned toward the door to find Elizabeth Shelby watching him with a look that said she disagreed with his choice of action. Laforge held her gauge for long enough to cause her to shift her gaze, then walked through the shuttle bay doors. This was hard enough as it was, Laforge reasoned, he couldn't afford to second guess himself. He didn't get far down the corridor before Shelby was on him again.
"Geordy, you just sent those men to their deaths." It was a statement of fact, not an acusation. Laforge put his fingers to his temples, felt the small scars that marked where his visual impulse translators used to be implanted on either side, and turned, letting his fatigue and worry show to Elizabeth. His guard was down, and Elizabeth realized that he wasn't making any hasty decisions here. "I'm sorry Geordy. It's just. It's just you know the odds. These Marines are outnumbered, damn, atleast a thousand to one." Laforge scoffed, walked past Elizabeth toward the shuttle bay doors and came back before replying.
"You know what Elizabeth? Actually, with the size of those things it's probably two thousand to 1!" He was upset, flaying his hands around in ways that made Elizabeth worry. "How long can we sit here in orbit, hoping for that atmospheric disturbance to clear up with those two ships out there?" Elizabeth took a step back, shook her head and looked down. "Look, Elizabeth, I'm sorry, but Admiral Picard, Jean Luc Picard is down there." He jabbed in the general direction of the Hirogen vessels beyond the bulkhead. "He may be a superior officer to you, and under these circumstances the loss of one officer may be acceptable to Star Fleet to avoid a conflict on official first contact, but not to me." Laforge paused, turned toward the shuttlebay doors. "He's family."

Elizabeth walked over to Laforge, placed a supporting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Geordi. He means allot to all of us." Here she paused and placed herself between Laforge and the bulkhead, staring him directly in the eyes. "But Star Fleet can't afford another full scale war."

"I won't leave him behind Captain Shelby." The bitter cold of his voice shattered any hope she had of this not becoming personal. She stared after Laforge as he made his way to the turbolift. 'Alright Laforge', she thought, 'we do it your way for now'

[4thdimension]

"Dammit!" Picard swore at the Vorta Visor. His com badge lay beside it, a standard issue tricorder in one hand, scanning both. The readout told him once again that not only were the two energy sources incompatible, attempting to sync them would result in an explosion.
Odo paced beside him, the Plasma rifle at the ready. The Vorta's scanner was silent at it's masters side, for now. Every few seconds Odo would glance at it, waiting for the deep baritone to announce the approach of more hunters.
"How much longer?" Picard didn't look up.
"As long as it takes I'm afraid." Another pass of the tricordor revealed nothing. No new ideas, no new information. "I need Mr. O'Brian here." The changeling Harrumphed beside Picard, glanced at the Vorta scanner.
"O'Brian is a fine man, but I think he would disagree with you." Picard smiled, passed the tricorder over the com badge.
"I think your right Ambassador." The tricorder beeped, signifying that it had completed it's scan. Picard shook his head, placed the com badge back on his chest. "This is no good. I can't amplify the signal, and I can't use the Visor either." Picard walked to the bridge door, saw the dead Hirogen and turned around, staring at the plasma rifle resting on Odo's arm.
He moved to the rifle, ran the tricorer over it, then the Visor. A few moments later the tricorder gave him the readout he'd been hoping for. A sixty percent compatibility in way the the two devices stored and output energy.
"I need that rifle." Picard took the rifle from Odo, moved over to a dead control console to the left of the control panel and placed the rifle along side. Running the tricorder along it's leangh once more he found a control hatch a few inches below the trigger. He turned back to Odo, smiled, and pointed at the hatch.
"Of course." Odo said. Closing the distance to the rifle he caused his hand to morph into eight small tenticles, the golden rivers of protoplasm nestled into the microscopic space between the frame and the hatch, and Odo pulled. The dark metal surface below revealed several indecipherable glyphs highlighted in golden light.
"Well." Picard said with a sigh. "this doesn't help much." He leaned against the wall, letting the tricorder fall to his waist.
"Shouldn't the computer be able to translate it?" Odo asked. Picard shook his head, wiping beads of sweat from his brow.
"No, there are no references to Hirogen written script in the federation database from which the computer can build a translation matrix." He wiped sweat from his forehead again. "It's getting hotter in here." Odo looked around, moved a step closer to the entrace to the bridge. Only shadow could be seen from his vantage point. He took another step closer, keeping his voice low.
"I hand't noticed." He pointed to the door, and just then the Vorta scanner began letting out it's deep trill.

[4thdimension]

Master Sgt. Scott Ortiz ran his Ortega dagger through a tricouple sharapener, the harmonic laser humming with each pass. The cockpit of the Stinger was bathed in red light, full red alert status. Nothing new to Scott Ortiz. The Marine sheathed his dagger and turned to face his troops. He had no delusions about what they were up against; he harbored no resentment towards the Captain of the Prometheus either. Battle is what he was out here for. Star Fleet Academy had bored him to tears, and when he was approached by the cloak and dagger group Section 31 to join this outfit he'd been more than willing. He hadn't been surprised to learn of the existence of Section 31, but he had been shocked to learn the true number of Officer casualties stemming from the Dominion war. He fully agreed That Star Fleet needed a rougher exterior. As for the Hirogen, this was just another alien race who had crossed the wrong Star Fleet Marine.
"ETA is two minutes." Lance Corporal X'theren announced from helm. "Now Clearing Prometheus shuttle bay, cloak active." Ortiz stood up from his seat behind the helm and leaned in to he view screen. Kilometers away, one of the huge Hirogen warships became visible as the Stinger dived into the planets thick atmosphere.
"Very good Corporal." He turned to the ten men behind him, addressed them all. "This is going to be a sting operation. No use taking unnecessary risks. We go in silent, we hit hard." He waited for his men to acknowledge his orders then continued. "We're outnumbered, out gunned. But we have something they don't." Ortiz pointed to the softly glowing blue triangle on his wrist, the portable cloak system interwoven into their armer would allow them to remain invisible and fire at the same time. "This is a done deal boys, now lets go show these orange bastards who's in charge in the delta quadrant!" Shouts and oorrahs came up all around Ortiz, and he allowed himself a small smile as he watched the relish in his men's eyes. 'Piece of cake', he thought.
"Dominion Dreadnought on screen Sgt." The slight waver of the Corporal's voice as she made her report revealed her apprehension. Ortiz turned, his mouth falling open as he took in the site. He felt his stomach react as the full meaning of what he'd signed up for hit him. All along the scorched ground beside the great behemoth vessel Jem'Hadar had been strung together in rows, their ruined bodies stripped of armor. Some of them had clearly been gutted, others decapetated.
"They probly all died in the crash, what sport is there in that?" Ortiz said to himself in disgust. Corporal Gates pushed up behind him, jockeying for a view of the carnage.
"Yeah, what's say we go teach those bloody bastards some manners?" Gates cried, slapping Ortiz on the back. Oriz's smile returned as the Marines behind them roared their approval. He turned to them, motioning for silence.
"Confirm that Picard isn't among them." He said to X'theren. X'theren ran her green fingers over the controls in smooth arcs, her innate Orian sensuality not muted even through her battle armor.
"Confirmed." She replied.
"Very good. Now, how many Hirogen are down there?" Another moment, a few more smooth gestures. Then, without warning her hands came to a halt, she turned her sparkling green eyes on Ortiz, her face losing all of it's former charm.
"Thousands sir." Her words came in tight bundles, tumbling over one another. "Hundreds of thousands." Ortiz shook his head in disbelief, this couldn't be right. A Hirogen habitation in a sector swarming with Borg transwarp signatures? Ortiz had been prepared to take on a few dozen, maybe as many as a few hundred, given their cloaking technology and superior fire power, but not an entire population. He stood there, looking out at the Hirogen milling around on the hull of the fallen Dominion Dreadnought for what seemed like a long time. What could he do, he reasoned, but follow his orders?
"That's not all sir." X'theren continued, her voice incredulous. "I'm reading several kilometers of subterrainian structures. I'm getting Kazon life signs, and Talaxian; several other non Hirogen the sensors can't identify."
"Can we contact the Prometheus through this interference?" Ortiz asked X'theren, already fairly sure he knew the answer.
"Negative sir." Ortiz swore under his breath.
"Any sign of Picard?" He asked. X'theren nodded, a small smile breaking free of the mask of dread.
"Thought you'd never ask." She tapped a command on the helm and a section of the Dominion ship began to glow in a soft blue light. "he's on the bridge with the Founder." Ortiz slapped her on the back and lifted his helmet over his head, securing the black hardware in place.
"Good work Corporal. We just have to get to Picard, attach the signal amplifier and get the hell out of here." He turned to the rest of his troop. "Men, remember the Spartans."

[4thdimension]

Hirogen Hunter

[4thdimension]

Trox held the atmospheric manipulator at eye level, watching as the bulkhead and bridge door blurred in the heat ahead of him. Waves of super heated air radiated out of the tip of the manipulator, sweat dripped from the young Hirogen's brow. He shifted his weight, watching with nervous trepidation for the golden flowing being, the changeling who'd killed his entire troop.

Perhaps the heat would cause the demon to melt, Trox thought with joyful anticipation. Irregardless, Trox knew what it would do to the human. A few more minutes and the room ahead would begin to melt around it, the plastic control panels would boil, the metal would creak, and the humans flesh would be reduced to cinders.

The forcefields on either side of the manipulator trapped the heat in, hugging the bulkhead to either side. The forcefields constant electrostatic sizzling made Trox feel ill at ease and the heat distortion made it difficult to watch for the changeling. Sweat stung his eyes as the ambient heat in the corridor behind the forcefield rose slowely despite it. Yet the Hirogen knew that what was a small discomfort to him, would feel like the jaws of death to the human. Trox imagined they prey's flesh cooking in the oven he'd created. Perhaps he would be made Alpha of his own troop for this.

[4thdimension]

Scott Ortiz materialized on a great plateau of dark gray lava, the Dreadnought class vessel dead ahead. He tensed as his head's up display chirped, several red icons popping up on the topographical map in his view screen. He breathed heavily, condensation momentarily blurring his face plate. Ortiz dropped to one knee, drew a bead on the nearest target, and fired.

The blue transphasic phaser beam penetrated the Hirogen's armer, cut through it's body. The Hirogen flew backward, the hole in it's midsection widening as the beam continued unabated. Ortiz released the trigger as the dead alien hit the ground. He stood, waiting for a reaction from the Hirogen force, fearing that the attack wouldn't be detected. He needn't have worried.

As Lance Corporal Gates materialized and his head's up display began ticking off the presence of Hirogen hunters in the area one by one his suits lateral sensors detected a transphasic burst to the west. His own target was much farther away, patrolling the very edge of the huge Dominion ship, apparently unaware that one of his brethren had just been cut in half. Gates was sure that would soon change. He tapped the side of his face plate, the sensors taking this as the instruction to increase magnification. The Hirogen was tall, approximately eight and a half feet. Gates was glad that he wouldn't have to get close. He began to run, his anterior tractor system erasing his tracks from the ground behind him as he went. As far as the Hirogen were concerned, he didn't exist. Yet.

Brian McCormick was the closest to the Dominion vessel at touch down. He checked his sensor read out to see that Ortiz and Gates were already on the move. He shifted his view downward, settling on the communications icon. Three seconds later Ortiz answered.
"McCormick?" Ortiz's voice was strained, as if he was running at great speed.
"I'm reading over one hundred Hirogen on the vessel now sir, have you picked that up yet?" McCormick heard Ortiz grunt, and a moment later heard the high pitched wine of his Phaser rifle.
"Yeah McCormick, look, I'm a little busy here!" An explosion sounded through the com link, it sounded like it had gone off feet from Ortiz's position. "The cloak is working fine, they don't know what hit em! Converge on my position, relay that to the rest of the team. Input instructions to charge the infiltration point upon convergence. Ortiz out."

McCormick looked to the right for a moment until the Order Confirmation icon blinked green, telling him that he had relayed his understanding to Ortiz. He began to run east, the servos in his legs doing most of the work for him, he covered the distance quickly. The marine came upon a boulder, behind which crouched two Hirogen hunters, their plasma rifles moving in unison, attempting to lock onto an unseen target. Each time the blue phaser fire appeared out of no where the Hirogen would pull the rifles to their eyes trying to draw a bead, then the phaser fire would appear from another position. One of the hunters stood, pulled a blade from his leg, and charged.
Two seconds later a second blue beam torched from thin air to the right, catching the hunter dead center. The Hirogen still crouching behind the boulder tapped a stud on his plasma rifle and began talking in rapid, unintelligible sentances. McCormick toggled his phaser rifle to stun, and fired at the back of the Hirogen's neck. He thought of the gaping hole in the Dominion ship becoming highlighted in his head's up display and his suit made it so. A moment later his team mates began to glow in a steady pulse, he was closing on them. Ten blobs of blue converged on a single point in front of the Dominion ship.

The Star Fleet Marines looked form one to the other, then around the plateau. Hirogen ground transports careened over the hill to the west, dozens of Hirogen hunters trailing close behind from all directions. Air transports screamed over head, and a moment later the ground around the marines shattered into debris. They ran toward the breach in the hull, phaser rifles at the ready.

[4thdimension]

Admiral Jean Luc Picard rolled away from the scorching deck plating towards the smoldering carpet. He estimated the temperature to be beyond one hundred and twenty degrees. Heat stroke was imminent, and more pressing was the fact that Odo had become a bubbling pile of protoplasm on the deck, golden tentacles jetting outward and falling back again. Picard reasoned that it must be several hundred degrees hotter on the other side of the forcefield he'd managed to erect through a clever combination of the Hirogen plasma rifle, the Vorta Visor, and the federation tricorder. Picard didn't know how long the Ambassador could survive that heat, but he knew that he himself did not have long. While the impromptu forcefield generator protected him from the primary blast of heat, the temperature was creeping up in his small section of bridge, already he felt unconsciousness threatening.

[4thdimension]

Hirogen Casualty. Hey, it happens.
Picture is copy write Tommy Charles, all characters in this story are property of Paramount.