[4thdimension]

Scott Ortiz crept up on the crouching Hirogen, his rifle a mere few inches from the base of it's skull. Scott looked back at the acoustic dampeners he'd installed on either side of the bend in the corridor to confirm that both status lights were still green. The mobile force field prevented sound waves from the battle that was ensuing around the bend in the corridor from reaching the small Hirogen's ears. His nine Marines were cornered beyond, their backs to the dampener. Hundreds of Hirogen vied to reach the Marines, scrambling over the bodies of the fallen. Ortiz knew that the battle wouldn't last long. He'd come to respect this race in his time here, had they not been invisible he knew perfectly well that they would not have made it this far. Star Fleet was underestimating these people, and when he got back he planned to write up exactly what he thought about it. Officially his branch of Star Fleet didn't exist, but he knew that he had to do something. To hell with what the Admiralty thought. They were in over their heads here.
He turned his attention back to the situation, reasoning that soon the aliens would tire of the hunt and simply throw an explosive into the corridor. The only thing between him and the captain now was the sparkling orange force field the alien in front of him had erected. It was crouched on one knee, holding what appeared to be the source of the heat in both arms. A simple, thin barrel attached to a control interface. Ortiz could make out another force field coming from either side of the barrel. He took a step closer, cursing himself as his foot crunched on a bit of debris from the bulkhead. The Hirogen turned, its dark eyes narrowed. It stared for a moment through the Marine, then turned back.
Ortiz pulled Ortega dagger from his knee and set the tricorder embedded in the arm of suit to scan for the frequancy of the force field. A crude device, the Hirogen forcefield generator provided little resistance to the Marine's probes. Regardless, the procedure took ten seconds, time that Ortiz knew Picard didn't have. He pressed the stud on the dagger with his thumb, the blade came online, sizzling with an intense orange brilliance. He took another step forward, The orange force field shrieked as if in protest to the penetration, an Hirogen blood sprayed the walls.
Ortiz turned, alarmed and dismayed to see a Hirogen hunter on the other side of the acoustic forcefield, a Marine rifle in the other hand. He blinked once, dropped his cloak, waited for the Hirogen to see him, and then fired through the forcefield. The field rippled as the Federation beam cut through, vaperizing the Hirogen. His men had just given the ultimate sacrifice, but atleast their commander had the chance to avenge them. Not everyone had the oppurtunity. Taking it however, had been costly. Setting his weapon to it's highest yield had depleted it's charge. Useless, he threw it aside, pulled his phaser, and turned to the second forcefield. He did a quick search of the downed Hirogen, gave up and gripped the handle of the strange weapon. It hung firmly in mid air, supported by the oscillating second force field.
He became keenly aware that by now he may be the only living human on the ship. He stole a glance backward and grimaced as he saw Hirogen fire blasting at the acoustic forcefield. The mobile field generator was no where near resiliant as the one found on a star ship and Ortiz was amazed that it had lasted this long. He turned again to the Hirogen weapon, mocking as it was, hanging from the force field. The Force field behind him began to fail, and the wine of super heated plasma could be heard impacting the tightly oscillating electrons within.
The cries of enraged Hirogen met his ears as well, and as he slid the dagger through the remaining Hirogen force field, bringing down onto the cold alloy of the weapon, a golden sheet of steam welled up form the bridge, forming a powerful vortex. The steam seemed to stagger a moment, then shot toward the barrel of the atmospheric manipulator. He watched in awe as the Changeling ripped the weapon apart like a dog would a plastic toy. The forcefield fell, and the blast of super heated air ate at Ortiz's suit, causing layers of plastic to vaporize. The puddle of protoplasm a few feet away set still for the first time in minutes as the steam coalesced a fell back within it.
The heat within his suit rose by thirty degrees before his on board life support system caught up. He charged the bridge. The protoplasm stuck to his boot, and he nearly lost his balance as it was snapped back. The changeling rose behind him in a tower of golden goo; Ortiz sent his dagger through Picard's force field, severing the Vorta Visor from the plasma rifle. The force field fell, and the Marine slapped the transponder onto the Admiral's chest. A moment later he was gone. Ortiz felt the firm hold of the transporter on himself, panicking, he turned, threw the second transponder to Odo, which he caught with a long tentacle. The next moment he found himself aboard the Stinger, the Founder by his side. Within the mangled bodies of the Nine laid Picard, steamed red, he laid still. A moment later he and the founder dissapeared in the Prometheus's transporter beam. The transponders had worked.
X'tharan stood rigid beside the fallen members of her team. Ortiz placed his had in the Orian's. She turned, tears gleaming from her green cheeks.
"The transponder didn't have time to confirm life sings, it detected hostiles in the area and pulled them all up. " X'tharan remarked, her eyes locked on her fallen comrades, her face blank.
"'Cha, I need you at the helm." Ortiz spoke softly, his words muffled through the face plate. This wasn't the time to get sentimental. They were Marines. Their brethren wouldn't want them to fall here because they'd lost their mold over a few dead bodies. Even as Ortiz heard himself spewing the rhetoric to himself he felt sick. He squeezed her hand tighter, hit the command to dematerialize the face plate. The warm air of the shuttle made his eyes sting, made him feel the wet tears on his own face. "They are avenged." He whispered into her ear.
"No....not yet." She pulled away, slammed a fist into the control on the wall to seal the cargo hold from the flight deck and took the helm. The soft visage of a grieving Orian female fled as she brought up the tactical control screen, punching in the code to activate the transphasic torpedoes.

Odo layed on a biobed in sickbay, the doctor and several nurses buzzed around another biobed somewhere to his left. His body hung loose like melting gelatin, sending limp tendrils of brown goo to the floor. His smooth face drooped and sagged onto the bed. The form of his body seemed to melt and re coalesce. As the rattling ship sent vibrations into Odo's dying mass he kept repeating a single word, over, and over again: Kira.