Chapter 1
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CHAPTER One:

The crippled frame of the refugee vessel JAVELIN burst from the swirling mass of blue stars that marked the location of the Great Rift. Flames and debris sprayed out around the ship's hull as another vessel from their convoy exploded, struck by Imperial turbolasers just before the jump through the Rift. The JAVELIN was bleeding atmosphere from the deep gash along its side, its own Imperial souvenir.

The refugee convoy had departed from Bothawui a month before. Their journey to the faraway jewel of the Federation was only supposed to have taken a week, but problems had plagued them as soon as they left planetary orbit. Fights had broken out among the refugees when the food and water supplies went bad without warning, and the crews of the refugee vessels had been exhausted from the effort of breaking up the skirmishes when they'd run into their first batch of pirates. Two of the smaller convoy vessels had been lost, but the rest of them had escaped with their lives.

Unfortunately, the convoy had been forced to alter its route several times in case the pirates were pursuing them. By the time they had reached the border of the neutral zone around the Rift, the stolen identification codes the Bothans had sold to the JAVELIN's captain had expired. The Imperial navy's patrol ships had opened fire on the convoy as soon as the codes were given. They had been lucky to escape into the Rift instead of being captured or blown to pieces.

The bridge doors slid open to admit a coughing officer who was covered in soot. Acrid smoke clung to her like a shroud, offending the sensitive noses of the door guards as she hurried toward the captain's chair. "Sir," she rasped, "the hyperdrive's dead." The officer took a deep breath and began to cough. "I couldn't get far enough to fix it. There's fires on the engine decks."

"Fire crews?" Captain Felisar demanded. "We're in Federation territory. I didn't come this far for us to burn up before we got ourselves to a planet!"

She shook her head wearily. "Crews're doing what they can, but we need real firefighters and mechanics, captain." She dragged in a harsh breath and gratefully accepted a flask of water from the feline captain.

"That's not the worst of it." The first officer looked up from his terminal with a grim expression. "The diagnostic readouts show a feedback loop building up. If we can't get into the engine room and replace the power couplings soon, all that the Federation is going to find is our debris cloud."

Felisar hissed, and his coughing officer turned white under her dirty fur. "I want all the passengers moved away from the engine decks," Captain Felisar snapped. "Tell them they're needed on the fire crews." He didn't voice what all of them were thinking-the old junk heap of a ship wasn't equipped with escape pods. "We still have one last hand to play."

"Sir?" his first officer asked cautiously.

The captain was already halfway to the communications station. "The Federation's got to be monitoring this place. Maybe someone's out there who can help."

"Sir, we'll be arrested," his first officer growled.

"We'll be alive," Skat countered before he turned to the officer at the communications terminal. "Open the emergency channels."

**********************************************************************

Captain Marc Xavier straightened his tunic as he emerged from his ready room to begin his shift. Though he had said nothing of it, Marc was battling a distinct and poignant sense of déjà vu. Like two years before, Starfleet had reluctantly ordered the FELIX and its crew to the distant frontiers of the Federation. Their assignment had led them to the very same sector they had explored two years ago; this time, the ship and her crew were to patrol the newly established border between the Federation and the Galactic Empire.

Just as he had two years before, Captain Xavier found himself battling a sense of boredom. The border was little more than a perimeter of automated sensor beacons established alongside the anomaly-the Great Rift-which his crew had helped to create. It did little more than designate which piece of unoccupied nothingness belonged to which government. As he rounded the bridge and took a seat in the command chair, he looked to the other bridge stations in hopes that something of interest would present itself.

"Report?" he asked, swinging his gaze to Ops.

"Same as it was last time, sir. Whole lot of nothing." Lt. Steve Raymond shrugged, and then blinked as the Ops console started beeping softly. The reptile's fingers danced over control surfaces. "Cancel that, I think we're picking up a distress beacon. Hyperwave bands, automated, maybe two lightyears past the crossing on our side."

"Hyperwave?" the captain echoed, a brief look of interest in his eyes. Then he shook his head. "There's all sorts of garbage bleeding off of their ‘holonet.' Are you sure you're not picking up a signal shadow?"

"Almost positive, sir." The reptile continued to tweak various controls, refining and filtering the signal. "It's too strong to be a holonet sideband lobe, I've seen those before."

"Give me a full-palette sensor scan of that area."

"Yessir." Steve coaxed the requested information out of his console. "Looks like there's an Imperial fleet located just on the other side of the rift." The raptor's brow furrowed. "They seem to be engaged in battle with smaller craft, sir. Other than standard background noise, the beacons around the border, and a marginally higher dust count, that's about it."

The captain had developed a frown at the mention of the Imperials. Officially, the Federation bore no ill will to the Empire or its navy for their conduct toward Marc and the other officers of the FELIX who had been captured; privately, those officers still struggled with the thought of neutrality toward their torturers. "I assume there's a ship at the origin point of the transmission?"

"Checking . . ." Steve examined the sensor readouts and furrowed his brow. "Yessir, a medium-size frigate and a scattering of smaller ships. I can't get much more than that from this distance."

"Can you clear up the message enough to get an audio signal?"

"I can try, sir." Steve busied himself at his console, running the distress call through an assortment of interference filters before routing it to the speakers on the bridge.

There was a squelch of static, and then a male voice relayed the message. "This is the frigate JAVELIN. Our systems are damaged and we are facing total engine failure. We are escorting a small convoy of transports containing refugees and have come under fire. Requesting Federation asylum. Repeat, this is-kshhhh-" The transmission cut off in a burst of static.

Marc paused, peering through the viewscreen to the vast starfield beyond. "A refugee convoy?" The battle on the other side of the Rift had become crystal clear.

The captain had been briefed on the steady stream of refugee ships that passed over week by week from Imperial worlds, bearing down upon Federation territory in a desperate attempt to reach a new life. Space was just too large for the Imperials to make an effective emigration barrier, but rumor stated that the Imperials hadn't treated the ones they had caught too kindly. Few, if any, escaped once discovered. Here, however, was an group that seemed to have beaten the odds and crossed over despite the Imperials hot on their heels - or was it?

His instincts told him to be cautious - this could be a trap. "There's something fishy about all this. Mr. Raymond, has there been any change in the trajectory of the Imperial ships?"

Steve shook his head. "No sir, they're still dealing with those other ships. If they know about the distress beacon, they're certainly taking their time getting there."

Marc nodded to himself, a plan formulating in his head. "Then we may have a window of a few minutes. Tactical, raise to yellow alert." He turned aside. "Ensign."

At the helm, Ensign Blacktail lifted his head slightly in acknowledgement, though his eyes never left the controls. "Yes, captain?"

"Set a course for the center of that signal, and engage at Warp 23."

The copperhead nodded, entering in the information. "ETA is approximately 5 minutes, sir."

The starship's engines began to glow and the FELIX quickly leapt into transwarp. Xavier nodded to himself. "Tactical, I want you to keep a close eye on that Imperial patrol. I need to know the instant they've spotted us."

**********************************************************************

Xavier looked aside to his chronometer. "Ensign, time?"

"Thirty seconds, sir."

"Tactical, any noteworthy change in the Imperial ships?"

Lt. Michael Haith shook his head. "Nothing yet, captain."

Blacktail spoke up from the helm, hoping his voice carried none of the nervousness he felt. "Captain, we've reached the coordinates. Dropping to impulse."

"Sir," Lt. Raymond called from Ops, "the Imperials are staying steady on their side."

"Good." Captain Xavier allowed himself a wry smile. "Mr. Raymond, see if you can raise the refugees on hailing frequencies."

The raptor nodded and tapped commands into a set of control surfaces. "You're on, sir."

Xavier frowned and nodded. He turned and straightened his uniform reflexively, even though the communication was only audio. "This is Captain Marc Xavier of the Federation starship USS FELIX. We've received a distress call an-"

"This is Captain-ksssh-Felisar."

"Work to stabilize that connection," Marc ordered, straining to hear over the heavy static.

"-refugees aboard. Seeking asylum-heavy damage. Possibly sabotage. Requesting assistance-" The line was broken not by static, but by coughing from the speaker on the other end. "Engines failing. We expect critical-within fifteen minutes."

"Critical?" the captain demanded.

"This is Captain Skat Felisar-" the message began to repeat.

The captain's disposition changed immediately. "Red alert. Lt. Raymond, I need you to scan and tell me how many people are on that transport, and I need that number five minutes ago." He tapped his communicator. "Xavier to Commander Hare, I need you to activate the transporters on all of our shuttle pods, cargo bays and personnel transports-everything we've got. Engineering-Commander Tigris, I want you to prepare an away team to beam aboard that ship. Take whomever you need, just keep that ship intact! We need to buy time to get those people off."

**********************************************************************

Lanna stepped onto the transporter pad as Zannah and Perdia entered the room at a trot. "Thanks for coming," she said, nodding at the two Jedi. They had become a familiar part of her team in the last two years.

The Lemorian nodded back. "Any way we can help."

"I figure we may have 10, maybe 15 minutes to get those engines in order before they go critical. We should be able to get a hold of it, but be ready to move the hell out just in case." Commander Tigris nodded to Dute, who handed Zannah the extra engineering kit he'd been carrying.

The vixen took the case and took her place on one of the free transporter pads. "Got it."

Perdia rolled her shoulders and followed Zannah onto one of the other transporter pads, checking her lightsaber in her hidden hip pocket. "I'm ready, Commander Tigris."

"Let's go." Lanna nodded to the ensign on duty, who activated the transporter. The team rematerialized in a dark cargo hold that reeked of smoke and other things that none of the team wanted to think about. Zannah flicked her ears back and looked around, getting her bearings.

"This way," the Lemorian announced, leading the way into the hallway. Her apprentice brought up the rear as the team filed their way toward the engine room. Both Jedi had come to be respected for their fighting skills on away teams and from sparring with Lanna in the FELIX's many gyms. This was not the first time they had acted as security on an away mission. Lanna's team had long since grown accustomed to the pair's uncanny ability to work in tandem as if psychically linked. More than once it had saved lives.

"The engine room should be over here." Zannah looked around. "I don't think we're alone," she added in a low voice as the door slid open to reveal the engine bay. Lanna's ears lowered a fraction momentarily and she nodded acknowledgement. Her team tensed as well, picking up the wary vixen's demeanor.

The room was an immense pit crisscrossed by catwalks that had rusted from lack of care and disuse. A series of ladders led down to the hyperdrive, engines, and reactor from the circular catwalk that surrounded the area, which was dimly lit by amber emergency lights embedded in the floor and at points on the walls. Down below, the hyperdrive and engines shot streams of sparks into the air. A small fire had started in the pit near the engines.

"There. That's the hyperdrive reactor." Zannah glanced around. "I don't see anyone. Perdi?"

The girl shook her head. "I sense something, but I'm not sure…"

Commander Tigris nodded and waved one of her ensigns forward to take point. The group cautiously made their way across the catwalk towards the reactor.

Dute Wilier looked over the railing edge and gulped. It was a long way down. "Uh, sir?" Dute spoke up.

"Yes, ensign?"

"Someone's down there."

Lanna frowned. "Are they asking for help?"

"Er, no sir. I think she's hurt, or worse."

"We deal with the engine first, ensign."

"Yes sir," the rabbit replied, steeling himself visibly. Lanna cast a quick glance over the railing, spotting a flash of green uniform and fur that may once have been white or grey but was now bloody. As much as she would have like to assist someone, she had a more important job. If the reactor blew, there would be many more casualties than there already were.

Perdia stayed toward the back of the group, smothering a yawn with one hand. She'd been asleep when the refugee ship's distress call had come in.

Zannah leaned over the railing. "I don't sense any life from her-she's dead. Be careful, though. There may be others. Something's clouding our senses. Perdi and I can't tell for sure."

The chief engineer glanced up at the Jedi and gave a slight nod. "Don't worry. We can take care of ourselves." She gave a toothy grin and followed the rest of her team to the core itself. The unfortunate female she'd spotted from the catwalk seemed to have come to a violent end. Part of her corpse was charred, and the smell of burnt fur still permeated the area. Lanna bent forward in spite of herself to examine the body. "What a mess."

Dute Wilier had already stepped forward to examine one hulking section of the JAVELIN's engines, carefully avoiding the sparks and hissing wires that were present in a few areas. He frowned and lifted a piece of loose metal to bring back to the Klingon. "Sir, the metal has been melted in some areas. I've never seen damage like this before."

Commander Tigris stood up before she could get a good look at the fallen refugee. She accepted the fragment and looked it over. "That's not normal damage." She ran her fingers over the warped and melted edges. "It almost looks like someone took a lightsaber to this..."

One of her more junior ensigns, a gazelle, shifted nervously and held his tricorder a bit tighter. "A lightsaber, sir?" He looked up at Zannah and Perdia nervously. The Lemorian and her apprentice were still watching them from the railing, where they would out of the engineers' way dealing with the engines and other equipment.

Lanna fixed the gazelle with a glare. "They didn't do this."

The gazelle gulped and nodded. "Y-yessir."

A slight scuffing sound could be heard from the shadowy area near the hyperdrive as Kim Amethyst moved into position, her eyes narrowed on the stripey one as she carefully thumbed her holdout blaster from ‘stun' to ‘kill'.

Zannah's danger sense flared and her hand slipped to her lightsaber. "Careful, Lanna... I don't think you're alone down there, and I don't mean her." Zannah gestured to the still body. Her attention focused on the FELIX's engineers, the Jedi missed the secondary menace watching them.

Lanna flicked an ear in acknowledgement. Her engineers looked at her and she waved them to continue working on the core. She herself bent to the nearest panel, removed the haphazardly placed cover and began to work.

"Stop," Kim growled, stepping forward a few moments later. She could no longer watch the group messing with her ship. The business end of the girl's blaster was pointed directly at Lanna's forehead. The weapon was the only part of her that was in good repair. The teenager was thin for her height, her face painfully bony. Her clothing was little more than a baggy shirt, threadbare pants, and scuffed boots, all showing patches over patches, and her hair had been cut short by someone who wasn't used to holding scissors. The lioness' ears were flat against her scalp. "Get away from my engines."

The tigress' acute hearing had picked up the scuffling sound and a swift, cautionary arm on the jittery gazelle standing next to her stopped the young man from going for his phaser. The chief gave him a stern glare that clearly said "keep working" before she cautiously turned as the person made herself known.

Lanna arched a brow and stood. The cub couldn't have been more than a teenager. "Your engines are about to go critical, and we're trying to stop that. So put down that weapon and tell us where the adults are."

"They don't know how to fix them," Kim scoffed with all the hauteur she could dredge up. "I do. Buncha jammie-wearin fleeters wouldn't know, either..."

The Klingon snorted and started toward the girl. "Put the weapon down before you hurt yourself, kid. I happen to know what happens when one of your little vessels experiences this sort of power failure. If your engines overload, this ship's not going to be more than a bunch of space rubble." Lanna moved within an arm's distance of the lion cub. "If you don't want that to happen, I suggest you let us get back to work."

"Wha-" the blaster wavered in the girl's hand as she stared at them. How could a bunch of pants-wetting 'fleeters know what was wrong with her engines? "But-that-"

Lanna used the girl's confusion to her own advantage and swiped the blaster out of her hands. She barely glanced at it, pointing the muzzle of it toward the floor. "Where are the adults?" she asked again, eyes darting around the room, looking for more threats.

Brow furrowed, Perdia glanced over her shoulder. She'd become all too familiar with the sensation of being watched during her time as a street rat and stowaway in the seedier parts of the Alpha Quadrant. It was that feeling that had washed over her when the team had entered the pit. With a shrug, the young Jedi turned back to the engineers below. Their watcher was probably just another refugee who'd claimed the engine room as their lair, hardly a threat to any of them.

Above the conflict, Zannah chuckled faintly to herself, and then frowned in puzzlement. Lanna had defused the situation with the kid, but her danger senses were still rising. She turned. "Perdi, do you feel-" The Lemorian froze, watching the lupine figure who had emerged from the shadows behind Perdia. In his faded gray coverall, he could have been mistaken for a mechanic were it not for the silvery cylinder he held and the air of menace he radiated. "Perdia, look out!" Zannah's lightsaber ignited a split second after the wolf's.

Her apprentice leaped out of the way with the help of the Force, barely clearing the edge of a catwalk nearly fifteen feet overhead. Her own lightsaber flashed into her hand, the hum of the violet blade echoing in the engine pit below.

Jedi and Hunter stared at each other for a frozen moment, and then the wolf snarled and leaped for the catwalk, going after Perdia. "Oh no you don't!" Zannah growled and made the jump herself. She was not about to leave her apprentice alone to face even a minion of the Sith on her own.

The engineers and their assailant looked up sharply as the hum of sabers echoed into the engine pit. They watched in silence as Zannah made an impossible leap to the catwalks and began to engage the Hunter.

Commander Tigris grabbed the lion cub by her arm and shoved her into a crouch behind a melted casing. "Stay there, and if you even think of touching any of us or those engines, I'll have your guts for dessert," Lanna snarled at her. The other engineers had already begun removing panels from the engine covers to start their work, chancing glances toward the flashing sabers above.

**********************************************************************

Perdia gave a faint yelp and rolled out of the way of the Hunter, slamming her back against the rickety safety rail at the catwalk's edge. "Knew I shoulda stayed in bed today..." she groaned, reaching to her side to grab the saber that had flown from her grip.

Black booted feet crashed down on the catwalk opposite Perdia, and lightsabers clashed just over her head. Jedi and Hunter struggled against each other. He had height, weight, and reach on Zannah, but she had the benefit of considerably more training, and evaded his slashes and strikes with ease, giving Perdia time to scramble to her feet.

The girl stumbled back to her feet and helpfully slammed her elbow right into the hunter's gut, trying to knock him away from her master as she relit her blade. "The hell kind of party is this?"

"A Sith-sponsored one," Zannah growled back. The Hunter's only response was a grim smile and a faint nod. He pressed forward, giving the two Jedi little chance to recover in the face of his attack. Zannah let him push her back, studying his movements and waiting for an opening she could use. She could sense Perdia moving in tandem with her, much as they had practiced over the months they had been aboard the FELIX.

Perdia growled and blocked a swing of the Sith's red-bladed saber from reaching Zannah's head, trying to use her longer reach to force the wolf backward and off the platform.

The wolf darted back out of range of Perdia's saber, executing a neat backflip to the next catwalk up. He smirked and flicked his tail at them in an obvious taunt.

The teenaged padawan didn't wait for her master to give a command; she leaped up onto the higher platform and began fighting the wolf in earnest. She and Zannah had trained relentlessly over the past two years to bring her skills up to speed, and she had no intention of losing all of that to an arrogant hunter intent on killing their engineers.

Her Master was mere moments behind her, landing lightly on her toes before launching another series of attacks on the Hunter. Zannah's acrobatic Ataru style solidly complimented Perdia's more stable Soresu defense, and together they continued to force the wolf back. This Hunter, Zannah noted, was better trained than the ones they had occasionally fought before, perhaps even an acolyte. He had power and style, not just raw force, and was graceful enough to avoid their slashing blades.

The Jedi pushed him back to the edge of the catwalk, certain the fight could not last much longer. He could only go up so far before he would run out of platforms. There was one left above them. The Hunter kicked out hard, catching Perdia in the chest and forcing her to stagger backwards a few steps. He slashed a heavy power cable that dangled in his way with his lightsaber and leaped for the next gantry, Perdia hot on his tail.

**********************************************************************

Kim yelled and scrambled out of the way as a heavy power cable crashed into the spot where she'd been sitting. Commander Tigris spared the cub a glance, still bent to her work. The power couplings beneath her hands had been melted beyond repair.

"What all did he do to this junk?" she demanded.

Ensign Wilier blinked and reached for his tricorder to take readings, but the underfed refugee beat him to the punch.

"He melted the couplings with his saber, and the circuit's fused. You can't just wave a wand and fix it. Kytlar tried, and look what happened to her."

Ensign Nonamé looked at the body of the vixen they'd found, the color draining from his face.

"If you even think about fainting," Lanna snarled, jarring the ensign.

"Um, sir," Dute interrupted. "She's right, sir. I have the readings."

Kim sniffed and drew her knees to her chin. "Of course I'm right."

Commander Tigris yanked a damaged wire from the casings and tossed it to Nonamé. "We don't have time to replicate new ones and have them sent from the FELIX. The component we need is too complex." She snorted and wiped grease from the engines on Dute's sleeve.

Dute looked at the chief blankly. "Uh, sir…"

The Klingon ignored him, a determined gleam in her eyes. "We can delay it, if we're lucky. Maybe even contain the explosion." She glared at her engineers. "You know what to do with these garbage scows, get to it."

"But that wolf-" the gazelle started to protest. Lanna cut him off with a growl.

"Zannah and Perdia will deal with him. That's their job. Let's do ours."

**********************************************************************

Zannah followed Perdia's leap to the gantry, catching herself at the edge of it. A stray slash made her jerk her head back, momentarily unbalancing herself. The Hunter took notice of her moment of weakness and flung out a hand at the older Jedi. Zannah stumbled sideways from the Force push, cracking her head against a support. Suddenly dazed, the Lemorian paused to shake her head and took a step backwards... over open air.

With a yell the Lemorian vanished over the side of the gantry, tumbling into the hyperdrive pit below. Disorientation prevented her from slowing her descent more than a fraction with the Force before she slammed hard into one of Lanna's engineers, bearing the other down to the deck plates.

"Keep working!" Lanna barked at her engineers, ignoring Nonamé's groan of pain and the unnatural angle of the fallen Jedi's limbs. "We have to stay ahead of that power failure, or we're all dead."

"Zannah!" Perdia reached out, trying to aid her master before the Lemorian could fall too far, but the Hunter was two steps ahead of her. The pommel of his saber slammed into her temple, sending her crumpling against the unsteady rail.

The wolf spared a glance for the fallen Jedi, and when he determined she would not pose him any threat in the immediate future, sliced the girl's arm with a vibrodagger. He then withdrew a black, palm-sized device from his belt and roughly pressed it to the cut. The wolf watched the device's screen process the blood sample. A moment later, he nodded in satisfaction and fished a second device from his belt.

**********************************************************************

The captain's pacing led him to the Ops terminal. "What's the situation with the refugees, Lt. Raymond?"

Raymond didn't glance up from his console, tapping controls sporadically. "There's eight thousand of them on board that transport, sir. We're not going to be able to get them all."

Marc's frown grew. "We can tow them to Antares if the engines don't fail... how is Commander Tigris' team doing?"

"I can't be certain from here, sir. Too much interference directly around the core for communications to get through. No change to the transport's engine emissions so far."

The captain nodded. "Keep me posted. Is there anything you can do with the transporters?"

The raptor thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Not from this end of things, sir, but Commander Hare said she was working on it when she checked in."

He nodded. "Work on getting a fix on our team, lieutenant. I want them out of danger as soon as possible." The captain tapped his commbadge. "Xavier to Commander Hare. Cyber-we're running out of time. If there's anything you can do with the transporters, do it."

**********************************************************************

Cyber slipped behind the controls to the transporter that had beamed Lanna's team onto the refugee vessel, summarily relieving the officer there of her duty.

"Sir?" The kangaroo looked bewildered and more than slightly insulted. "I just started my shift an hour ago, I can efficiently handle the system."

Commander Hare glanced at the other officer apologetically, but only for an instant. "I'm sorry, lieutenant, but we don't have a lot of time and a fully biological mind simply can't process what I need to do that quickly."

". . . Sir?"

Cyber didn't bother explaining any further, but pointed a finger over at the isolinear service cabin near the far wall. "I need you to recalibrate system's J-25 and J-27 to accept continuous input through the pattern buffers. It'll make it possible to beam people up faster."

The kangaroo was frowning and shaking her head, clinging stubbornly to the controls. "With all due respect, commander, you can't do that. The phase inducers aren't designed to handle that level of continuous energy input. Not to mention the pattern buffers would reset themselves the instant their safety capacity was overburdened."

"Not if you force-input the rematerialization subroutines to keep ahead of the pattern flow."

"What?" The other officer was indignant. "The only way to do that is to manually monitor and reprogram the beaming instructions as it's being read by the computer. No-"

"-purely biological mind can handle it, not at that speed." Cyber turned and considered the transporter operator seriously. "That's what I said at the beginning of this conversation. Now will you kindly recalibrate those chips? That's an order."

The kangaroo swallowed and took a step back. "Aye-aye, sir." She quickly made her way across the room to make the necessary changes to the system, and within a few minutes the transporter chamber powered up again, shimmering down to reveal another group of refugees from the endangered engine decks.

The guards and medical officers present quickly escorted everyone off the pad and separated the able bodied from the injured, ferrying them quickly to nearby triage units down the adjacent hall. As soon as they stepped off, the transporter system engaged again, and another group of people materialized.

"Don't let a bottle-neck form," Cyber called from the transporter station, her eyes fixed on the lines of scrolling code as they flashed across the console. "If you need to, move everyone into the recreation center in Section 25. I can't afford to have this room clogged with people."

**********************************************************************

Lieutenant Raymond leaned forward to examine an update that flashed across his console. "Captain," he said some uncertainty. "It looks-according to our status update we've evacuated more than 90% of the refugees who are near the danger zone. We should have gotten only 50%."

That comment brought Marc to his feet and he stepped down to the forward control area, looking over Steve's shoulder. "What-that can't be right."

"I sympathize, sir," he said as he keyed in confirmation again. "But I've asked the computer three times and it insists that we've got only 217 more people to beam up."

"Check sensors to confirm."

"Aye si-"

A hail to the bridge interrupted Raymond's reply. "Transporter room three to bridge." It was Commander Hare.

Marc looked up. "Yes, commander? What's going on? Our status boards are telling us we've got just over two hundred people left aboard in the projected radius of the explosion. That's not possible."

"It is, sir. I tied together the-there's really no time to explain it. I'll be able to beam up Commander Tigris' team as soon as I re-establish transporter lock. It should only take a few more seconds for the radiation to clear."

Xavier nodded. "Well whatever you did . . . good job."

"Energizing now."

As Cyber spoke, a bright flash shimmered across the viewscreen and sensor alarms started to go off at the tactical station. Captain Xavier's eyes caught the flashpoint of the explosion and his eyes widened as he watched the JAVELIN ripped apart from what looked like a catastrophic core overload.

Everyone seemed to pause at once as they watched the glowing fragments of the frigate spin apart wildly through space, tossed in a hundred different directions by the force of the ship's detonation.

"I-I don't get it," Steve Raymond said, pulling his eyes away from the viewscreen to re-check the sensor logs. "The radiation levels were dropping!"

But it was as if Marc didn't hear him. "Bridge to transporter room three . . . did you get them?"

An uncomfortable silence followed. Cyber spoke, almost reluctantly, and Xavier could already tell what her answer would be from her tone. "Negative, sir."

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