Shadows on the Horizon - Prologue

Prologue

The time before times...
Roughly 1,000,000 Years BCE

We called ourselves the Great Pact, a coalition of over ten thousand inhabited worlds banded together for the purpose of furthering knowledge and maintaining peace.
At the position of leadership, was the ancient world of Aerrosis IV, which lay on the outer rim of the Great Spiral Galaxy.
For millennia, we existed in perfect, peaceful balance; then the Great Schism wrought havoc and destruction amongst us all.

It began in a simple enough fashion, a dispute over uninhabited worlds that were rich in resources. The world of Ah'Raezhaar, which had long been desirous of control of the Pact, had placed as many resource rich planets under its control as it could. The Ah'Raezh were without qualm or conscience in their acts of conquest. They had become enamored of the idea of turning the Pact into a Galactic Empire, with Ah'Raezhaar at its center. We, the Caeliar, stood in direct opposition to them. We were determined to see them vanquished at all costs.

Then came the Great War.

Every year that the Great War raged, whole worlds were consumed in fury and fire. After almost a thousand years of the War, the worlds of the Great Pact were almost completely gone. 
As a last effort to protect ourselves and the Galaxy from the threat of the Ah'Raezh, we, the Caeliar determined to collectively ascend to a higher level of consciousness and from that new plane of existence, eradicate the Ah'Raezh completely.
As a collective species, we withdrew to our homeworld of Erigol and set about preparing ourselves for ascension. Mere days from achieving our final goal, we received a message from one of the former slave worlds of the Ah'Raezh.
The Ah'Raezh Empire was fracturing utterly. Ah'Raezhaar had become enclosed in some type of energy barrier that prohibited communication and transport of any form from reaching the planet. When the field had gone up, all but three units of the immense Ah'Raezharyn fleet had been recalled to the massive planet, rendering the Empire powerless.
As the remaining worlds of the Pact freed themselves of the Ah'Raezh who remained on their respective surfaces, we Caeliar withdrew completely from interaction with our former allies. As a species, we had entered a new era, poised on the edge of enlightenment committing ourselves to study and research, with no interaction or intrusion from outside of Erigol.

Yet time and fate have a way of changing plans, no matter how noble they may be. Thus it was that the starship Columbia fell into our lives many centuries later. It was our interaction with the Columbia and her crew that led to our current state of disarray.
During the final stages of our newest study, our Great Work, action from the downed Starfleet vessal disrupted our studies and destroyed the world that was our home.
Therefore we abandoned Erigol, with its fiery destruction and launched ourselves with the humans into the pureness and vastness of Space.

After journeying through the stars for many, many years, we came at last to the world which would become New Erigol, our next home.
From that point, we began to fade. There was much that we no longer remembered. So much of our history, became to us mere myth...and we forgot who we were.

Then there were new humans who came to us, bringing with them those who were Other: Kree, Vulcan, Klingon, Trill, Betazoid and a host of other species who were the far flung descendants of our long ago Pact. Whether they had existed on planets that we had once known or not was immaterial. What they carried was the same sense of unity and singularity of purpose within a wholly diverse form.
Though we were bound by our long-held oath of secrecy and separation, for this new Great Pact, we chose to break with tradition. We 'interfered' with species other than our own, and brought healing and peace to those who had been Borg.
Then we returned to our seclusion, taking some of those former Borg within our collective Whole, as a penance, believing the Borg had been our creation. Yet, in much of what we had forgotten, there were great secrets hidden, even from us...

Shadows on the Horizon - Backstory and assorted details

Data and B-4

In 2379, Shinzon of Remus, the clone of Legendary Starfleet Captain Jean-Luc Picard attempted the destruction of all life on Earth. He was successfully thwarted by the crew of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 E, and specifically by Lieutenant Commander Data, who gave his life to defeat the tyrant.

The Reman Scimitar and The USS Enterprise

In the course of the mission to defeat Shinzon, the crew of USS Enterprise was lead to Kolarus III, where they discovered B-4, a prototype android developed by Data’s “Father,” Noonien Soong. In an attempt to aid B-4 in his evolution into a more complete being, Data downloaded his entire memory matrix into B-4’s positronic brain.

In 2384, during a raid on the Daystrom Annex of Galor IV, B-4 and a handful of other androids were stolen from the lab. After the incident, the USS Enterprise-E was sent to investigate, locking down the planet in the process. Unfortunately for the Federation, the raiding team had already left with the stolen androids. Unbeknownst to the Enterprise at the time, Noonien Soong had been on the planet and was subsequently picked up on facial recognition sensors in the city nearest the Daystrom Annex. Upon learning of this fact, several away teams from the Enterprise were mobilized to intercept the "Soong-type Android", but he managed to evade all of them. Upon reaching his ship in orbit, Soong lead the Enterprise to an abandoned factory full of inactive androids, one which was being reactivated by the Breen in an attempt to manufacture their own Soong-type androids. B-4 had been captured for this select purpose, the Breen wanted to study B-4 in an attempt to copy this into the androids made at the factory. After a short fight, an away team from Enterprise managed to recapture B-4 and the remaining androids, before being beamed back to the ship. This however, was after Noonien Soong managed to fix B-4's degrading mind and "resurrect" Data. This was achieved by removing the memories from B-4 and transferring them into a new android body, specifically the one Soong had made for himself. Thus, Data's memories were removed from B-4, allowing his mind to stabilize and having received an upgrade to his firmware at the same time. After the incident, B-4 requested to be taken back to the Galor IV Annex to assist Commander Bruce Maddox in his continued research of Soong-type androids.

Within two years, Data had returned to Starfleet and when Jean-Luc Picard was asked to take up the position of Ambassador to Vulcan, Data became Captain of the USS Enterprise.

The Destruction of Romulus

In 2387, the Hobus star went supernova, destroying Romulus and prompting the Nero Incursion.

Romulus' End

The Romulan Star Empire would be shaken to the core by the Hobus supernova, the total annihilation of both Romulus and Remus causing the Empire to splinter into two dueling factions: The "old regime" of fear and deception set up by Empress Sela on Rator III while the survivors of Spock's unification movement, sought to establish a new, more open society for the Romulan people. It would be free of the isolationism and xenophobia that had dictated Romulan policy for centuries. To that end, a new government, christened the Romulan Republic, was established, with its home on New Romulus (formerly Dewa III). 

The Romulan Republic applied for and was granted entry to the U.F.P in 2392

The Borg and the Caeliar

The Borg Invasion of 2381 was the historic attempt by the Borg Collective to completely exterminate the United Federation of Planets, the Klingon Empire, and other allied worlds in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants and to subjugate the remaining worlds in local space. It ended with much of the Collective being dismantled and subsequently absorbed into the gestalt of the advanced race the Caeliar, while large portions of newly assimilated Borg were freed from the collective and saw their Borg implants replaced with highly advanced Caeliar technology.

The invasion left dozens of worlds in the area of the Azure Nebula in utter ruin, decimating much of known space. As a result of the invasion, upwards of 40% of the Federation Starfleet was destroyed, and over 63 billion citizens of the United Federation of Planets, the Klingon Empire, the Romulan Star Empire, the Imperial Romulan State, and non-aligned worlds were killed.

Another notable loss was Federation Fleet Admiral Kathryn Janeway, believed dead at the hands of the Borg. In truth, Janeway's consciousness had been preserved by the Female Q. Janeway was "resurrected" in September of that same year with the help of Q (Junior), who returned her to the USS Achilles which was in the Delta Quadrant as part of Project Full Circle.

The Yndara Five Scandal

Late in the 24th century, the United Federation of Planets was very nearly torn apart by the scandal attached to the planet Yndara Five.

-Journal of Davian Corcorane, reporter for the Federation News Service-
It was in early May of 2398 when an Andorian smuggler, Dalira Th’Mel by name, approached me in regards to a story involving the Federation President. We at the FNS are used to such rumours of gossip. However, it’s a reporter’s life that dictates that we still follow up these tidbits…just in case.

So it was that I found myself on Deep Space Five, waiting for this rogue to make contact with me. I was sitting in the station’s replimat, nursing a particularly unappealing cup of Tarkennan ox stew when the rather short Andorian finally arrived. He was roughly dressed, and appeared to have not slept in several days. I gestured for him to sit and he did so, slouching tiredly onto the uncomfortable bench across from me. He removed a small flask from an inside pocket and took a deep swig. I raised an eyebrow questioningly. He seemed irked at the gesture, and turned sideways slightly and spat. I couldn’t suppress a small grin. The trickster in me always seemed to come out around Andorians and my being half-Vulcan certainly didn’t seem to help with his irritation.

“Did you bring the stuff?” He asked gruffly. I nodded slightly. “Well?” he insisted, his voice low but obviously very tense. Perhaps he hadn’t slept in days. I reached into the small carryall sitting next to me on the rough metal floor and withdrew a pouch. I held it out, but only so he could see it…not so that he could get his fingers around it.

“200 strips of gold pressed latinum: As we agreed…” I shook the bag slightly and raised an eyebrow again. “…if your information is actually valuable.” He eyed the bag with an intense greed and wetted his lips. Inside it occurred to me, that his behavior was more that of a Ferengi than an Andorian.

“Of course.” He said in an oily voice. “I promise you, my information will be positively priceless.” His hands gripped the edge of the table, obviously trying not to grab for the pouch that I held. “In fact,” he said with a sigh while prying his fingers from the table. “If I were not so terribly desperate, I would hold out for a great deal more.”

I laid the small bag on the table right in front of me and took another small bite of the truly atrocious stew; I then looked up at Th’Mel.

“Why exactly are you settling for so little…” The eyebrow came up again. “…if it is so terribly valuable?” Another bite and I stirred the concoction while staring into his silver-blue eyes. “Have you perhaps fallen afoul of some planet’s security forces?” He shifted on his seat, however that could’ve been due to the fact that the benches seemed to have been designed by a particularly vicious sadist.

“Something like that.” He stated noncommittally. I chuckled slightly.

“So,” I said wryly. “You’ve finally found somewhere that doesn’t appreciate your knack for finding good deals on stuff like ketrecel-white and Romulan ale.” I looked at him rather smugly. “It’s about time they finally caught on to your little tricks.”

“Actually,” he said just as smugly. “I don’t deal in that sort of rubbish anymore.” I looked at him incredulously. “It’s antiquities these days.”

“Antiquities?!” I scoffed.

“Certainly.” He said, all wounded pride and ruffled feathers. “I’m a reputable dealer in the stuff. Got a job-lot of the stuff right now that I’m trying to shift.” He leaned a bit closer and I could smell the Romulan ale on his breath, I leant back in my chair.
“What I got right now came from Cardassia.” He grinned broadly. “There’s a lot of antiquities floating around after their big smash up during the Dominion War and then that mess with the Borg a few years back.” He glanced back down at the money bag wistfully. “A smart operator could make hisself a fortune on all the good stuff floating around out there now.” I cleared my throat, but didn’t launch into the tirade I wanted to about Federation Antiquity and Preservation laws and how he was surely breaking every single one in the books. After all, breaking the law was daily fare for creatures like him.

“All very interesting I’m sure.” I said blandly. “None of this explains why you brought me out here.” I ran a finger over the pouch, taunting him. “What exactly is this information that you’re looking to sell?” He leaned in even closer and began to speak in a low, conspiratorial whisper.

After close to an hour of merely listening, I finally interrupted him.

“You have proof of what you say? I mean, you can actually prove these claims that you’re making?!” He grimaced, and nodded. My mind was positively reeling. If everything he said was true…if HALF of what he said was true…

I couldn’t complete the thought. This could spell the end of the Federation itself. I had to get back to Earth. I had to speak to my editor. After all, Dell Joryn had connections in the Federation, and in Starfleet. But if what Th’Mel had said was true, perhaps the Federation was the last place to go for help. This would require some thinking over.

“How much for all of the information you have?” I demanded. “And I want every scrap of proof that you've gathered. I want to know beyond ANY doubt that you’re telling me the truth!” He nodded slowly.

“It’s the truth.” He shook his head slightly. “The Ancestors know I wish it weren’t.”

-Journal of Davian Corcorane, reporter for the Federation News Service-

When I arrived on Earth, Joryn and I sat down and went through every scrap of evidence we’d been presented with. Based on everything that we saw in front of us, there was only one conclusion: It was all true. Every stinking rotten detail was accurate.

After debating the rightness and complexities of what we were about to do, both Joryn and I decided that the story simply had to be published. The truth HAD to be known.

Federation News Bulletin - June 15th, 2398 – Morning Edition

We at the FNS have recently come into possession of some rather disturbing information. The editors and directors of this organization have determined that through our commitment to honest reporting and reporting without fear or favor, this information must be publicized. We do wish to extend to the more sensitive readers in our audience this warning: Be forewarned that the following article contains very grievous subject matters and graphic descriptions of incidents. We also would like it to be noted that the following is based on an extensive collection of evidence presented to one of our most able reporters.

-Journal of Davian Corcorane, reporter for the Federation News Service-

What followed was an almost verbatim recording of every scrap of information provided to us, by Th’Mel.

It seems that during the strongest reign of the Orion Syndicate (sometime in the mid- 2130s), a group of planets were set up as retreats for the Lords of Orion. These planets were sometimes very distant from each other and were all rumoured to be un-inhabited. They were known as the Sanctuary Worlds.

On these planets, the Lords of Orion were treated almost as gods. There was nothing denied them. There were armies of slaves, ready to obey ANY whim: No matter how depraved or ludicrous. There were substances that were even outlawed in Orion culture, ready to be consumed and indulged in. There were hunting parties arranged, most often using sentient species as the quarry. Whole shiploads of slaves were deposited on the Sanctuary Worlds, on an almost daily basis: Many of them not surviving more than a month; and none of them ever leaving.

In time, as the power of the Syndicate began to wane, these worlds became havens for the members of the Orion Syndicate and for other criminal organizations. They were safe ports, free from the rule of law imposed by the Federation. Where any average pirate or criminal could live the life of absolute luxury and TOTAL power.

It would not be long, before the powerful leaders of the Alpha and Beta quadrants began to hear whispers of these fabled worlds from their friends and acquaintances. Why surely, the policy makers and leaders of these free worlds must yearn for other illicit pleasures. Whether they were cultural taboos, or truly illegal acts, the Sanctuary Worlds came to specialize in them. There was NOTHING that could not be found on one of the many, varied and diverse Sanctuary Worlds.

Thus the snare was laid. The elite and powerful of almost every planet in the Federation and scores without, fell under the thrall of the Sanctuary Worlds. Soon, the Worlds had new supporters. Gone were the Lords of Orion, and the pirates who founded these refuges for vices of all sorts. Their new patrons were the leaders of the free worlds of the Galaxy; especially the leading and guiding voices in the Federation.

According to information provided by Th’Mel, every U.F.P. President going back for over a hundred years (with the two exceptions of Hikaru Sulu and Naniette Bacco), had not only been aware of the Sanctuary Worlds, but had been an active supporter of their existence.

Joining with them were the leaders of over 220 other worlds, as well as countless Celebrities, Diplomats, VIPs and military leaders…even among Starfleet.

As Joryn and I pored through the information it almost became a race, not to see who was ON the list, but who WASN’T. It seemed that only a very, very few notable names didn’t appear on the rosters of supporters. Among those not present, were quite a few of Starfleet’s best and brightest.

In fact, it seemed that the Starfleet personnel who frequented the Sanctuary Worlds were sorely lacking in one way or another. However, many of those who were so lacking still made it into positions of high authority amongst the Fleet…usually due to political influence from another Patron.

It was most disheartening; the entire business.

-Journal of Davian Corcorane, reporter for the Federation News Service-

The day after the revelations were made public, I sat at home in Paris. Just waiting for the call to come that the mobs were besieging the Federation Headquarters, or alternatively that the Federation had sent out a security detail for my arrest.

Neither came.

Instead, at around 13:00, I received a call from Joryn saying that she needed to see me in her office right away. I could tell from the way her voice was quivering that something was desperately wrong.

I made my way over to her office, only two blocks away from my flat, and she greeted me at the door literally shaking with rage. The small framed, middle-aged Bajoran woman was a sight to behold when she was raging as she was now. I always became reminded of a spitting cobra when she was like this. After I calmed her down a bit, she finally explained what had happened.

It seems, that the first action taken by President Aennik Okeg was to deny everything; which frustratingly seemed to please everyone on the Federation Council. Yet that was more than likely due to their being tied to Sanctuary Worlds as tightly as the Saurian president was. There had been almost no outcry from the populace, and everyone seemed to accept that it was unfounded gossip.

Both Joryn and I agreed that this simply couldn’t stand. And so we decided to get one of her contacts in Starfleet to help us.

After satisfying ourselves that his name was in NO way tied to the Sanctuary Worlds, we contacted Mackenzie Calhoun.

-Journal of Davian Corcorane, reporter for the Federation News Service-

The Captain of the USS Excalibur had first met Joryn when she was working in the Bajoran Militia. They had a brief, but passionate affair. And remained very close friends even after moving on to pursue other relationships.

When Joryn contacted him, he and the Excalibur were on route to Starbase 133, right on the Klingon border. It seemed as if fate had intervened, as Starbase 133 was in the same sector as one of the Sanctuary Worlds.

Captain Calhoun agreed readily to assist us in proving the veracity of our claims. He touched base at Starbase 133 and then set off for Yndara V.

USS Excalibur – Captain’s Log, Stardate 73420.57

Four days ago, I received an urgent message from Federation News Service Editor-In-Chief, Dell Joryn in regards to a criminal state of affairs within the highest ranks of the Federation. After reading through the unassailable evidence of her claims, I agreed to put off the USS Excalibur’s trip to the Raionna system; in order to make an investigation of one of the nearby planets, Yndara V.

I have attached the reports compiled by Joryn, as well as the findings we have made to this Log Posting, which is being submitted to Starfleet Command, the Federation High Council and to every major News Agency in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants.

When the Excalibur arrived in orbit, two days ago, we sent a decrypted hail that contained an introductory message down to the planet below. This message was included in the reports compiled by the FNS, and was designed to bring new members to the Sanctuary Worlds. Though Yndara V is listed as an uninhabited planet and no life signs could be picked up by our ship’s sensors, we received a reply within moments.

A soft, melodious female voice began speaking, though there was no visual component to the message:

“Welcome weary travelers to the Sanctuary Worlds. Here you may forget all of your troubles and cares. For on the Sanctuary Worlds, you have truly found your haven!”

A visual then appeared on the screen. There was a smiling, almost too beautiful man and woman standing in a large well lit chamber, with carved marble walls behind them and a lot of greenery around. They both were very nearly naked, and seemed to accentuate the sensuality of their bodies by every movement and gesture. The man spoke first:

“Greetings Starfleet vessel. You are most welcome to this Sanctuary World. By the introductory code that you have submitted, you have been recommended by His Excellency, Chancellor Martok of Qo’noS. If you seek the kind of diversions that many Klingons prefer, we will be more than happy to provide them for you.” The female then continued:

“Oh yes, the more brutal and destructive the better, according to most of our Klingon Patrons.” She laughed a soft tinkling giggle that caused my skin to crawl.

“In fact,” she said rather breathlessly. “If you’re in the mood now, we’ll be having some slaves drawn and quartered this very hour.” I forced a smile onto my face, and said that that would suit me nicely. I then went on:

“There are some of my crew who are not desirous of bloodsports. What else does this Sanctuary World offer?” The man stood there smiling dumbly as the woman answered laughingly:

“Well, we do tend to specialize in the rougher side of things here on Yndara, but there are a host of other diversions to capture the mind and spirit. Your crew should beam down at once, and embrace the beauty of Yndara, the World of Glory in Pain and Suffering.” There was a sickening animal gleam in her eyes and I realized that this was not a mere woman staring back at me, this was a predator.

-Journal of Davian Corcorane, reporter for the Federation News Service-

When Captain Calhoun submitted his findings along with our own, to the Federation High Council, Starfleet Command and just about every News Agency within the Federation and without, the fallout I had initially anticipated finally came.

It began with the Rigellian Ambassador to Earth, calling a press conference with the FNS and his own planet’s news media, to admit his wrongdoing and beg forgiveness for supporting the Sanctuary Worlds. That very morning, all but thirteen Federation Member delegations left Earth, as quietly and quickly as they could.

The remaining delegations (excluding the Terran delegation) were the Tellarites; the Caitians; the Deltans; the Vulcans; the Arcadians; the Betazoids; the Risians; the Bajorans; the Cairn; the Evora and two relatively new entries to the Federation’s rolls: The Rhulhänii and the Romulans.

Though it had been laid bare that the Sanctuary Worlds long had Romulan support, almost all of those who had lent that support had perished in the destruction of Romulus eleven years before. And it had been proven that none of the current leaders either on New Romulus or in the Romulan Delegation had been connected to the Sanctuary Worlds.

Therefore these would be the powers who gathered together in the cavernously empty Federation Council Hall and decided the fate of over 200 worlds…

-Conclusion-

The Council of Twelve became the centre of a reborn and purged Federation. Under the Leadership of Tha’ar Demys of Rhulh and new, guaranteed clean representatives from the Member Worlds, the Federation stood once more poised to move into the next century with grace and strength.

Though still wounded…she was FAR from defeated.

Shadows on the Horizon - Character Bios and Backgrounds

Character Bios and Backgrounds:

Davian Corcorane

Reporter, Federation News Service

29 Earth years old, as of May 2398

Born on Bolarus IX, in the underwater city of Arinol to parents in the Federation Diplomatic Corps, Davian was raised on-board the Nebula-class USS Pasteur.

Graduated from UC Berkeley with a Masters in Journalism. Served for two years in the Starfleet Press Corps. (attached to Starfleet HQ in San Francisco.) Joined the Federation News Service at the urging of his mentor and former instructor from UC Berkeley, Dell Joryn.

Dell Joryn (Uses Bajoran traditional naming method=first name is Joryn)

Editor-in-Chief, Federation News Service

33 Bajoran years old, as of May 2398

Born on Bajor and raised for a short time near the Colash Retreat. Her father was a Bajoran Scientist, specializing in Quantum Field Theory and her mother a human Sociologist, who went to Bajor to study the effects of the Cardassian occupation. After the withdrawal of the Cardassian Union in 2369, Joryn and her mother returned to Johannesburg on Earth.
Graduated summa cum laude from the University of Johannesburg with a Doctorate in Journalism and a Masters in Sociology. Taught at UC Berkeley for two years and then joined the FNS as Editor-in-Chief.

Mackenzie Calhoun (formerly known as M'k'n'zy of Calhoun) was a male Xenexian Starfleet officer who served in the late 24th century and early 25th century.
He was born in the city of Calhoun on the Danteri-occupied planet Xenex in 2334. In time, he overthrew the Danteri and became a powerful warlord and leader, akin to Alexander the Great. He was convinced by Jean-Luc Picard to join Starfleet and he enrolled at the Academy at the age of twenty. 


Calhoun is a multi-decorated officer and longtime captain of the USS Excalibur and her namesakes the Galaxy-class USS Excalibur-A and currently the Regent-class USS Excalibur-B.

Annika Hansen, also known by her Borg designation, Seven of Nine, was a Human female, and former Borg drone, born in 2348.


Annika was assimilated, along with her parents, in 2356, but was later liberated by the crew of the USS Voyager in 2374. In the following years she began to reclaim her humanity, but still preferred to go by her Borg designation rather than her given name. She eventually returned to Earth aboard Voyager in 2377. In 2381, during the Caeliar dissolution of the Borg Collective, Seven's remaining Borg implants were removed, following this her humanity had apparently fully reasserted itself, as she then insisted on being called Annika. 

Tha’ar Demys was one of the youngest Presidents of the Federation when she was elected in 2398. Born on the world Rhule a mere 22 years before, her time as President has been marked by challenges.

If dealing with the outcome of natural disasters like the the Hobus supernova was not enough, as the first presidency post Yndara V, hers has been watched more closely than any other for the barest sign of corruption or dishonesty.

Yet her abilities mark her out for greatness, despite the challenges she has faced.

Chakotay was a Human Starfleet officer and Maquis leader in the 24th and 25th century. Born on Trebus in 2329, he was sponsored in his initial application to Starfleet by Captain Demora Sulu. 

After serving for a time in Starfleet, Chakotay joined the rebel Maquis after his home on Trebus was destroyed by a Cardassian weapon of mass destruction. It was while in the Maquis, that Kathryn Janeway asked him to serve as first officer of the Federation starship USS Voyager during that vessel's harrowing seven-year journey in the Delta Quadrant. Upon Voyager's return, Chakotay rejoined Starfleet and later served as Voyager's captain.

He and Annika Hansen were married in 2390.

Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway was a Human female born on May 20, 2335 in Bloomington, Indiana. 

Already a decorated Starfleet officer, in 2371, she assumed command of the Federation starship USS Voyager, which was shortly thereafter pulled into the Delta Quadrant. She managed to bring the ship and crew back to the Alpha Quadrant by December 2377, and was thereafter promoted from captain to admiral.

Initially believed deceased in the Borg invasion of 2381, Admiral janeway was "resurrected" with the help of Q (Junior) later that year. Admiral Janeway was asked by President Tha'ar Demys, in the aftermath of the Yndara V scandal to take over Starfleet as Commander in Chief.

William Thomas Riker was a Human male born on Earth in 2335. 

He was best known for his service in Starfleet, as a captain in command of the USS Titan from the year 2379 to 2385 and from 2386 onward. In 2385, he was temporarily promoted to rear admiral, during the True Way crisis. Riker had previously served as first officer aboard the USS Enterprise-D and the USS Enterprise-E between the years 2364 and 2379.

Riker has been married to Deanna Troi since 2379, they have one daughter, Natasha Miana Riker.

Deanna Troi is a half-Human, half-Betazoid who most famously served on the USS Enterprise-D and the USS Enterprise-E, as counselor and adviser to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. She would marry and have a child with William T. Riker as well as serve with him on the USS Titan.

Deanna, the second daughter of Lwaxana and Starfleet officer, Ian Andrew Troi, was born on March 29 2336, on the planet Betazed near Lake El-Nar.

Though not a full telepath, since she is half-human, Deanna is an extraordinarily gifted empath.

Shenti Yisec Eres Ree was a Pahkwa-thanh male who served as chief medical officer of the USS Titan in the late 24th and 25th centuries.

One of the first Pahkwa-thanh to join Starfleet, Dr. Ree was a brilliant physician who had published a number of notable papers in his career in medicine.

During Titan's mission to New Erigol, Dr. Ree and Commander Troi became closer and built a bond of trust after he saved her life from her last failed pregnancy. 

The USS Enterprise NCC-1701 F

Shadows on the Horizon - Chapter One

Our Story Begins…

-Chapter One-


June 19th, 2401
Palais De La Concorde, Paris, Earth

Tha’ar Demys was feeling deeply troubled. Her first term as President of the Federation was not going as peacefully or as easily as she had hoped that it would.

When she had been encouraged to step forward and throw her name in for consideration after the interstellar debacle of the Yndara Five scandal; she had felt at least relatively certain that she would be up to the task of leading the United Federation of Planets into this new and peaceful century.

After all, there had been no active conflict in all of Federation space since the failed Borg invasion of 2381. While there had been challenges of one sort or another it seemed nothing she couldn’t handle. However, two years into her Presidency, it seemed like everything was determined to go wrong.

Old allies were threatening to turn into new enemies, while old enemies were fast becoming dearly trusted friends.
The Klingon Empire was almost constantly saber-rattling these days. With the Remans in tow, the Klingons were stretching the old boundary lines of the Khitomer Accords and seemed to want to go even farther. Meanwhile, the Romulan Star Empire had almost overnight become the central supporting pillar of the Federation Council.

The overwhelming goodwill that had seemed to permeate most of the Galaxy after the resolution of the Borg problem in 2381 appeared to evaporate with the downfall of President Okeg. The revelations that had come out had tainted so much of Starfleet’s past actions for the last hundred years or so that it might take decades for the U.F.P. to recover.

And unfortunately Tha’ar didn’t have decades. As of this point, she had roughly two years left. If in that time, she hadn’t made a difference and caused some change for the good, she would be finished.

All of these thoughts had weighed on her mind as the morning of June nineteenth had dawned. Everything had looked rather grey and dismal, matching her mood perfectly. It was one of those few rainy days in a Parisian Summer, where the clouds gathered overhead, and the populace sweltered down below. Around 11:00, Tha’ar stood gazing out at the gathered clouds. 

She was encased in her private office on the fifteenth floor of the Federation Headquarters building, where the temperature was perfectly maintained at 62°. It was a little too cool for most humans but perfectly suited to her Rhulhänii physiology. She had never loved this office half as much as the smaller and more intimate one located in the Federation’s “other” home of San Francisco.

Perhaps it was because San Francisco reminded her so much of her homeworld of Rhulh. The cool grey days, the misty coastal setting, even the traditional architecture; all recalled the glorious city of Ayrha, Rhulh’s global capital and the city of her birth.

Tha’ar shook her head slightly; wishes and hopes for what one could not have were a waste of time. She could recall her Mentor teaching her that in what seemed a wholly different life.

She stepped away from the large windows and their disappointing view and returned her attention to the PADD she had been reading. It was an account of current negotiations between the Klingon embassy here on Earth, and the Federation Science Council. The basic argument seemed to stem from the Klingon Empire attempting to lay claim to several research stations based in Klingon space. Though it was true that the research stations were once Klingon, they had been offered to the Federation as research outposts by Chancellor Gowron, many years before. This, of course, was the Science Council’s defensive argument; however the Klingon government and the current Chancellor, V’KeSh, were having none of it.

Tha’ar sighed, and brushed a loose strand of shimmering silver hair out of her eyes. This wasn’t about the stations. Tha’ar and the Klingons and everyone else concerned knew that this was the case; though all were loathe stating it so openly.

The Klingons had been making arguments like this for the last few years; ever since the Romulans had been granted entry to the U.F.P., in fact. Tha’ar knew that this wasn’t a mere coincidence.

She moved back to her large, Ovax crystal desk and sat down behind it.

She greatly feared that these two old enemies could not, in the long run, live side-by-side as friends. She feared as well, that it would be during her service as President that the flames of war would reignite.

Having reached the end of the rather dry recitation of the lack of progress made in the negotiations, she laid the PADD down on her desk and sat back and sighed once more.

Her door chimed.

“Enter.” Tha’ar stated her voice soft and smoky with a light musical note to it.

The doors slid open and her Romulan private secretary, Tau’Pryn entered. Tau’Pryn too was a spot of trouble. Not from the young lady herself, of course; Tau’Pryn was the heart and soul of efficiency and discretion: A truly ideal assistant. The problems arose because of her heritage.

The young Romulan woman had been raised on a Federation World, the youngest child of some of the Star Empire’s earliest defectors. This had not silenced her critics. There were a host of Klingon claims that covered everything from being a spy for one of the Romulan Noble Houses desiring to gain favor with the U.F.P. President to being the secret Praetor of Romulus, to her being the love-child of Selene Mahktor, the Romulan-Klingon pop star.

In truth, Tau’Pryn was one of Tha’ar’s dearest friends, and nowadays, one of the very, very few whom Tha’ar trusted.
The young woman brought in a small stack of legal size PADDS and deposited them on the President’s desk.

“Madarne President, these are the last of the forms and letters that need to be signed.” she said briskly.

“What are they?” Tha’ar asked rather tiredly.

Tau’Pryn ticked them off on her fingers. “There is a Trade Agreement with Pyrhus II; they wish to exchange dilithium for Federation replicator technology. There is a Non-Aggressions Pact between the Federation and Algus Prime; Algus Prime is between Federation and Tholian Space. There is also a letter of Congratulations to be sent to the Nimbus IV Colony on their Bicentennial and a letter of Commendation to Arrelianus for their induction into the Federation.”

“That’s fine,” Tha’ar said rather distractedly. “Has there been any word from Dr. Moynihan, about the Klingon situation?”

Tau’Pryn’s ridged Romulan brow furrowed. “Not as yet, ma’am. Perhaps they’ll have made some progress by this evening.”

Tha’ar sighed once more, deeply. “We can only hope, I suppose.”

Stardate 76174.75

USS Istanbul – London Class Transport Vessel

Commander Annika Hansen felt the slight tingle and hum of the transporter, and as the pale blue shimmers faded around her she found herself on the small bridge of the USS Istanbul. The bridge was deserted and dark; all of the ship’s systems, including life support, were shut down.

As Annika made her way to the main systems display on the rear wall, she had a fleeting thought of gratitude to the Starfleet Corps of Engineers who had developed these new EV suits that fit like a second skin. As she integrated her tricorder into the MSD and brought emergency power online, her two away team members were busy running scans through their engineering and science tricorders respectively.

Lieutenant Dworkyn, her engineer cleared his throat and Annika turned.

“Commander,” He sounded slightly distracted by the scan he was running. “I’m not picking up any active systems anywhere onboard.” He glanced up and then focused again on his engineering tricorder. “If I could get down to Engineering I could bring main power online. We can then activate the rest of the ship’s systems.”

“In that case, Lieutenant,” Annika said returning to the MSD, which was now glowing with a light blue and amber light. “Let’s divert the emergency power to the turbolifts instead of the environmental systems.” The young blue-skinned Bolian nodded and moved over to the bridge turbolift as Annika’s hands moved over the LCARS interface, allocating power to the ship’s turbolift system. The turbolift doors slid open and Lt. Dworkyn entered and set out for Engineering, four decks down.

Annika then turned to Lt. Capra, a young and attractive un-joined Trill. Before she could speak however, the auburn haired, curvaceous lieutenant pre-empted her commanding officer.

“Commander,” the girl’s voice was strong and yet velvety soft. “I’m still picking up the trace amounts of oedon radiation coming from the transport deck two levels down.”

Annika bit back the reprimand that sprang to mind, and instead said rather coldly:

“Very well, lieutenant. Take the bridge jefferies tube and see if you can find the source.” With a satisfied smile that was dangerously close to a smirk, Capra departed.

With a sigh born of frustration with young Starfleet officers in general, Annika turned back and surveyed the Istanbul’s darkened bridge.

What had happened here? Where was the ship’s crew and the colonists they had been transporting? Why was a fully functional ship merely floating dead in space? She shook her head slightly and turned back to the MSD.

They had detected the derelict vessel two days before. USS Voyager, under the command of Captain Chakotay, had been in route to Arus V when long range sensors picked up the London class transport ship, powered down and seemingly adrift.

When Voyager came upon the vessel and began running more in-depth scans of the craft, they found no clue as to why it had been abandoned: All ship systems were in working order; there had been no distress signal; all of the ship’s escape pods were still in place. And there were no lifeforms onboard. 

At first the assumption was that the Istanbul had met with some unknown disaster that had killed off all the crew and passengers. However further scans had shown no bodies or biological remains, therefore a small seed of hope remained that all of them had made it off the ship alive.

After deliberating with Voyager’s senior staff, Chakotay had decided to send over an away team. There had been no question of who would lead the mission, as First Officer; it was Annika’s place to go. Though, as had happened every time in the past, when Chakotay looked at her and told her to assemble her team for the away mission, he seemed almost to hesitate. Annika knew that like each time before, his love for her and his trust in her seemed to war in his mind. He knew in his heart and soul that she would do what was needed, but the fear that she might not come back to him was always present as well.

As the senior staff members were filing out of the briefing room, Annika had stood next to her husband and lightly brushed his hand with her own. Chakotay had looked down at her and smiled. It was enough.

Annika chose the Assistant Chief Engineer, Cosmaar Dworkyn, a truly brilliant mind, though an extreme rarity among Bolians; Dworkyn was shy. Her science officer was also brilliant, if rather difficult to handle. Lt. Adzara Capra was the niece of Jadzia Dax, who after being thought dead for over twenty years had been discovered deep in the Gamma quadrant, preserved in a kind of stasis by the Bajoran “Prophets.” Annika had no love for Capra; in fact she downright disliked her. Yet her talents and her creativity were unrivaled on Voyager, and Annika would not let personal feelings interfere with the mission at hand.

Therefore at 0700 hours the following morning, Annika, Dworkyn and Capra had beamed over to the deserted transport ship.

Annika had checked in with Commander Jai Nakamura and reported their limited amount of progress about an hour in. She had combed through the Istanbul’s logs and found nothing out of the ordinary. 

The last log entry had been just over three days ago. It was standard fare for a Federation transport ship. The Captain had reported on their progress toward the Megara system and had noted that engineering was having trouble maintaining warp 9.5 (the London class’s maximum warp) and so it would take them more than the scheduled two weeks to reach Megara.

Annika had wondered if the ship’s destination could have had anything to do with the current situation. After all, Megara was one of only three systems settled by the Romulan Republic since its entry to the Federation.

There had been a lot of opposition to any settlements proposed by the Republic, but so far it hadn't broken out into violence.

Annika left the ship’s conference room where she had been perusing the logs and returned to the bridge. They were making a small amount of progress in getting the ship back in working condition, though so far they had discovered nothing to explain the disappearances.

So far, Dworkyn had managed to get main power back on and he was running diagnostics in Engineering to see if he could determine whether a possible or perceived problem there had caused the crew to abandon ship. Capra had discovered the source of oedon radiation to be several large empty containers, more than likely used to transport oedon weaponry back when the ship was a troop transport. Capra had then requested permission to go to the ship’s miniscule sickbay to see if there were any records of a medical crisis onboard. Annika had bristled a bit, but agreed.

Annika glanced up the ship’s chronometer. The last report from either Dworkyn or Capra had been almost forty minutes ago. Annika tapped her small combadge.

“Hansen to away team, please report.” Silence. Annika tried again.

“Hansen to Lt. Dworkyn, report.” Still nothing.

“Hansen to Lt. Capra, report!” Still only silence answered back.

Annika raised her left eyebrow, surely her team was not so engrossed in reports that they would fail to answer their combadges. Something was wrong. She tapped her combadge again.

“Commander Hansen to Voyager.”

“Voyager here.” Jai responded, her voice soft and fluid.

“Commander, I seem to have lost contact with Lieutenants Capra and Dworkyn.” Annika’s face was now drawn with concern, though her voice didn’t betray it. “Can you give me their locations.”

“One moment, Commander,” Jai answered. Half a second stretched into infinity, then: “Lt. Dworkyn is still in Engineering; Lt. Capra is on transport level three.”

“Transport level three? Capra left level three and went to sickbay almost an hour ago.” Annika’s voice was starting to tighten with stress.

Jai came back: “That’s what our sensors are showing. Perhaps there is some kind of EM field that’s preventing the lieutenants’ communicators from working.”

“Perhaps,” Annika said quietly. I’m going to head down and see if I can find out what’s going on.”

“Understood.” Jai’s voice then grew a little quieter. “Be careful, Annika.”

“I will. Hansen out.”

June 19th, 2401
Starfleet Headquarters, The Presidio, Earth

Admiral Kathryn Janeway strolled through a beautifully maintained garden under a sun-drenched azure sky. She was admiring the Erphaxian lilac and the stunningly beautiful hybrid roses from Gammelus IX, slightly overwhelmed by such incredible beauty condensed into such a small piece of space and time. Ever since her sojourn with the Female Q, Kathryn quite often found herself waxing poetic. Though she retained no tangible memories from that time, she knew beyond the shadow of any doubt that the experience had changed her, and changed her for the better.

From the first moments of her "resurrection," she had felt herself filled with a greater sense of purpose and drive than ever before.

The next few years had seen her quickly take up the life she had left behind when the Borg had taken her early in 2380. After working with Project Full Circle, she had returned to Earth at the insistence of Admiral Leonard James Akaar. After proving to Admiral Akaar that her "death" had not adversely affected her, Kathryn was reinstated at her former rank and title. 

It was several years later, after the debacle that was the Yndara V scandal, that newly elected President Demys had asked her to take up the position of Commander in Chief of Starfleet. With grim determination, Kathryn had agreed.

Since then, she had done her best to return Starfleet to its core values and ideals. Even when that meant removing old friends and colleagues from positions of prestige and authority. After Yndara V, the U.F.P., and Starfleet as its perceived military arm had lost almost all credibility. Kathryn and President Demys had worked tirelessly to rectify this, and they had made a fair amount of progress.

However, the mounting tension between the Romulans and Klingons was now threatening to negate all of the steps forward that had been taken. If the current situation wasn't diffused, war was the most likely outcome. Janeway and Demys were both determined to avoid yet another war at all costs.

Kathryn had already seen the loss of too many lives; she had seen too much suffering; far too much destruction. If only everyone could see the beauty that she now perceived in the simplest things, perhaps then, the sentient species of this galaxy could see the beauty in each other as well. A small sigh, then her attention returned to the plant life around her, and in particular to some exceptional specimens of Aldebaran Orlu flowers.

It was five minutes to midnight, when Tha’ar was urgently roused from sleep by Tau’Pryn. As she came awake, she noticed the girl’s tear-streaked visage and knew that something had gone desperately wrong.

She quickly got out of bed and dressed as Tau’Pryn, still weeping attempted to explain what was happening.

“Madame President,” She began. “Roughly forty minutes ago, we received word from the colony on Praxirus IV that they were experiencing some kind of medical emergency.” Tha’ar knew that Praxirus IV was the chief settlement location of the former Borg Collective. “Starfleet Medical had two ships in the vicinity,” Tau’Pryn seemed to be collecting herself; she brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks. “So the USS Alexander Fleming and the USS Isis set out for the colony. When they arrived…” her voice broke again. “When they arrived, they found thousands dead.” Tha’ar looked up sharply as she and Tau’Pryn stepped from her private quarters into the turbolift that would take them upstairs to the Presidential offices.

“Thousands!?!” Tha’ar asked incredulously.

“Yes ma’am.” Tau’Pryn was weeping again. Tears were flowing unchecked down her face. “The entire colony was wiped out.”

Tha’ar stumbled against the wall of the turbolift and Tau’Pryn reached out to stabilize her. She felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. The world seemed to be fading; everything was turning grey. There was a loud buzzing noise in her ears; she could barely make out Tau’Pryn’s face as the young Romulan woman knelt over where she now lay on the floor of the turbolift. Then the world, mercifully, went dark.

San Francisco, Earth

Admiral Janeway was just settling in for a quiet evening at home when the message came in from Starfleet Command. She ordered an immediate emergency transport from her house in the Garden district to the Presidio, ten miles away. When she beamed into the pandemonium of the Crisis Center, she was handed four PADDs by one of her aides. Each of the PADDs detailed an occurrence of former-Borg colonies that were now starkly empty of life.

The most disturbing report was the one from Captain Fr'eff of the starship Lw'kanzaa. The Galaxy class vessel was in orbit around the newly colonized planet of Danos III, and they had an away team on the surface, helping the former-Borg colonists to set up an energy relay service. One moment, the colonists were working with the Starfleet personnel, completely involved in the task at hand, the next moment they were scattered like fallen leaves. They were all dead.

Admiral Janeway read on how that there had been no struggle, no perceived problem. They were there hale, healthy and whole and then they were not. Katherine sighed deeply and looked up at the controlled insanity that surrounded her. It was obvious that there were more reports coming in all the time. Every settlement that they contacted was either wiped out save for a few that had never been assimilated or there was no response (and that amounted to the same thing). Katherine felt her strength ebbing from her.

So much loss of life, it was beyond all reason.

Janeway took charge of the situation and began to bring a true sense of order to the controlled chaos around her.