Georgetown University: Washington D.C., Earth

Stardate: 54820.3

Crestia straightened the hem of her skirt and took a deep breath. She shifted uncomfortably in one of the fine leather trimmed chairs in the waiting area. Then, she took another look at the stout pair of wooden doors that led to the Dean of Student's office. Crestia went through her prepared speech over and over again in her mind. She knew that he would challenge her and that she had to stick to her defense.

"Excuse me," the Algolian receptionist said waving to get her attention.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Crestia said looking up nervously.

"Dean Vanderhorn will see you now," she answered with a supportive smile from her toothless mouth. Crestia nodded, rose to her feet, and walked over to the doors. Slowly, she raised her hand and knocked.

"Come in," a voice sounded from inside. Crestia pushed down the polished brass handle and stepped inside. She took a moment to admire the stained wood paneling, framed oil paintings, and shelves of books that rose from the floor all the way to the ceiling. A human man in a business suit sat behind a wide, glass-topped desk. He stood up when she entered. "Ms. Crestia," he said politely pointing one of the chairs facing him. "Please, have a seat."

"Yes Sir," Crestia replied trying to steady her voice. She kept her chin up as she walked across the university seal woven into the plush blue carpeting. Vanderhorn watched her the whole time as she lowered herself down to the seat and professionally placed one of her ankles behind the other.

The dean turned to his computer monitor and activated it.

"Your academic record is very impressive, especially considering…" he paused.

"Considering what, Sir?" she said forcing herself to maintain eye contact.

"Well," he stammered a bit trying to find the right words. "A person of your background…"

"You mean a person who grew up as a slave?" she said matter-of-factly. The shocked look on his face made her wonder if she had taken her confidence act too far. Luckily, Vanderhorn quickly returned to the matter at hand.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably before turning back to his terminal.

"That's why I was very surprised when I saw the reports from your professors. Quite frankly, I am shocked that they would have gone along with this."

"It was my idea, Sir," Crestia said sharply. "I don't want them to face any repercussions."

"The rules of Georgetown's Academic Handbook are very clear on this subject, Ms. Crestia," Vanderhorn replied. "I can't just arbitrarily change them for you simply because you are a strong performer."

"Sir," Crestia said moving to her own defense, "In three semesters, I have already completed all of my general education requirements, declared my majors, and earned the support of my advisors. Dr. Uzamshat has already agreed to let me complete my economics honors thesis via subspace and Dr. Byrani thinks that what I'm suggesting could be the most productive undergraduate political science project she has ever seen. The fledging government of the Subik IV colony is being overwhelmed by the influx of refugees of the Romulan Empire. By going there, I could help establish systems and offices that can help generations of people!"

"Plenty of Georgetown students complete a semester or two abroad, Ms. Crestia," Vanderhorn said, "but the fact remains that no one has ever completed the second half of their bachelor's degree as a practicum, period," he said raising his hands. "I'm sure whatever work you would be doing on Subik IV would be very beneficial to a lot of people, but you haven't answered the essential question: 'why should it count as undergraduate credit at a major university?'"

Crestia fished around in her brain for an answer. She was hoping that the letters of support from her professors would be enough to bolster her case. Apparently, she would need something more.

"May I speak candidly, Sir?" she asked.

"Of course," he said leaning back in his chair.

"Why do you think we study economics, politics, or any other subject academically? Don't you think that real world experience is a better teacher than case studies in a classroom or stories in the library?"

"Ms. Crestia," he said smiling, "I appreciate the Socratic Method, but I see what you're doing here, and I'm sorry, I don't buy it.

It is a fundamental principle of our educational system that you have to know the academic foundations of a subject before you a certified to practice them. That's why we have degree programs. That's why we have letters like B.S, PhD, or M.D. You may not see the importance of that now, but I assure you there are many precedents…"

"WHAT PRECEDENTS?" Crestia said throwing her hands in the air. "What precedents for a place like Subik IV exist?"

Vanderhorn was shocked at this young woman's forceful reply.

"Tell me, Sir. I'm interested to hear your answer." She cocked her head to the side. "You're forgetting that the governor of that place is my mother. I know very well what the situation on the ground is and it…is…terrifying," Crestia said pointing a finger at the Dean. "We're not talking about passing out a few copies of "Wealth of Nations," setting up a couple replicators, and calling it 'good.'

Pretty much all of the new arrivals are of different species. Most can't read even read. Many of them have never handled money before. Some of them who have spent their entire lives on plantation worlds don't even know what electricity or running water is. They have to be walked through everything: absolutely everything from a food budget for a family all the way up to how a community legal system works.

Look outside that window, Sir," Crestia said pointing out the large panes of glass towards the Potomac River and Virginia. Earth is one of the most amazing planets I have ever seen. But it looks like you have figured out your problems.

Let the people with letters after their name, stay here and debate grand theories, Dean Vanderhorn," she said not even trying to hide her irritation anymore. "But the people who are gonna help the most on Subik IV are people like me: people who know what it's like to have been enslaved. We say representation is important, right? Well, let those people see someone who has worked past the problems they are experiencing.

Now, I'd like to do that as a Georgetown student and finish my degree. I'll do whatever you want. I'll write weekly reports. I'll download the entire Georgetown library catalogue and read twenty books a week. I'll even let you put me in next year's brochure…but I'm going to Subik IV to help, and you're not going to stop me."

Vanderhorn pursed his lips.

"I know your mother is probably very desperate for you to go there…" he said preparing one last attempt to sway her.

"Actually she wants me to stay as far away from Subik IV as possible," Crestia replied plainly. "She thinks it's too difficult and dangerous near the Romulan frontier. She thinks I should stay on Earth where it's safe. However, I'm tired of playing it safe." Crestia leaned forward and stared right at the dean. "I want to make a difference."

Vanderhorn suddenly felt that Crestia was a student Georgetown shouldn't let go.

"Your professors certainly think you can do this," he muttered. "And you certainly have a way of stating your case with passion, Ms. Crestia. I just hope you know what you're getting into."

"Crsstessras Shma 'Chran Vorata estllh Fortum. Sh'arstan ominnus Ch'rana esshhran," she said.

Vanderhorn looked at her with surprise.

"How did you know I spoke Romulan?" he asked curiously.

"I read your CV to prepare for this meeting, Sir: Georgetown University Class of '49 with a PhD in Classical Vulcan and Romulan literature in '55." Then, she leaned forward with a confident grin. "Since you don't seem to believe I do my research first…"

He fell back in his chair again.

"Vawe, Shrmarm," he said nodding his head. "Charathhann noraema Tayrnot estllh Verokcheen."

"Ch'Tayrnot, Sir," Crestia corrected him. "You have to add the prefix 'Ch' and a glottal stop before modal verbs when they affect a noun in the dative case. Don't worry. It's a very common mistake for non-native speakers to make…even with the letters PhD after their name."

Vanderhorn pushed back from his desk and walked over to a shelf against the far wall. He pulled out a worn, green book entitled, "THE NEW OXFORD ROMULAN DICTIONARY: FIFTH EDITION."

He furiously flipped the pages before coming to a stop midway through the book. He had to read the section twice to make sure. Then, he slowly turned to look back at Crestia and snapped the book shut.

Vanderhorn walked back behind his desk, took a seat, and then starting typing on Crestia's forms.

"I leave your professors the responsibility of setting your distance curriculum and grading scale," he said. "You may have to return to Earth periodically for in-person examinations, but I'm confident that you will be disciplined enough to complete most of your assignments from the Klingon Empire and graduate with the rest of your class on time."

"Thank you, Sir!" Crestia said with genuine appreciation.

"I have a daughter your age," he said turning serious, "and I would be nervous as hell if she was doing this. Your mother is right. You are taking a very hard path, but I know it will be one that will do this institution proud. Good luck and stay safe."

Crestia stood up from the chair and stared right back at him.

"I'm going to the Klingon Empire, Sir. They don't believe in luck."

Sector Z-4: Federation/Romulan Neutral Zone Border

"Hi Mommy!" a chubby-cheeked toddler with a mop of dark hair said waving from two hundred lightyears away.

"Hallo, kleiner Mann. Ich liebe dich!" Annabeth said into her handheld PADD. She was sitting on the couch in her quarters while her wife and son were back in their living room in Munich.

Alex balanced Max in her lap and helped him look at the screen on their end. The captain of the Pershing had just finished a fourteen-hour day of patrolling the Neutral Zone. She had stripped off her hot black jacket and was relaxing in just her red undershirt. On Earth, the day was just beginning and Alex was still fighting to velcro Max's tiny sneakers onto his kicking feet.

"Gr�� Gott!" Annabeth said smiling. "You're so big!"

"And he's getting stronger too," Alex said shaking her head as she finally wrestled the second shoe over his blue socks and fastened it closed. "Aren't you? Aren't you?" Alex said tickling Max's tummy. The little boy laughed and doubled over. He fell onto his bottom and bounced on the sofa cushion. Alex handed him a stuffed targ that Aunt Laria had given him. Max had named him 'naS' and the two were now inseparable.

"How is the new practice going?" Annabeth asked her wife while taking a sip of wine from the coffee table.

"It's a great," Alex replied picking up a tiny knit sweater and maneuvering it over Max's head. "The partners are really excited about having a pediatrician on staff. They can now keep families in house without having to refer children out to other clinics. They're even gonna build a separate waiting room just for me. It's gonna have a play area for the kids."

"You think they could add a minibar for the parents?" Annabeth asked sarcastically.

"I don't think so�" Alex said with a chuckle. "But the best part is I'm staying in Munich now so I don't have to worry about getting to California every day. All I have to do is get this one Grammy and Grandpa's house in Toronto. A seven hour time difference is so much better than a ten hour one."

"Germany has some great day care centers too you know," Annabeth replied. "Plus, that means Max would get some time every day speaking German�"

"Do I detect a rebuke?" Alex said batting her eyes in Annabeth's direction. She then grabbed a tiny leather jacket and slipping it over their son's flailing arms. "We've already agreed that Max will attend primary school in Germany but until then he's going to spend time with my parents. My mother would KILL me if I took away a single minute of her with her grandson just to put him in daycare."

"Yes we did agree," Annabeth said. "However, I'm concerned that our toddler speaks Klingon better than Deutsch. We do live in Germany, Alex�"

"You know who his father was. Maybe it's genetic. In any case, Max and I live in Germany, Beth" Alex said furrowing her brow. "You live in space."

Annabeth sighed. She knew this line of conversation was going to get far worse very shortly.

"I just don't want him to be behind," Annabeth said trying to defend her position before she dropped a bombshell.

"Tell you what," Alex said. "You can speak all the German you want with Max when you're back on Earth in two weeks."

Annabeth shut her eyes. This bad news wasn't going to get better with time.

"About that�" she said nervously looking back at Alex. On the screen, her wife's shoulders dropped.

"Oh no! You are not about to tell me that!" Alex said shaking her head.

"We found out today that Nevsky blew a warp coil and they're going to have to spend three extra weeks in dry dock getting it replaced. It's thrown a giant wrench into the entire battlestarship rotation. Command thinks the easiest way to fix it is that everyone just stays where they are for an extra month."

Alex gritted her teeth and put her hands over Max's ears. He laughed as he had no idea what was going on.

"Funny Mommy!" he said.

"So of course that means the Pershing gets completely dicked over and loses a whole month in homeport?" the doctor said angrily. "I already put in for the time off at work. That burned a lot of bridges considering I'm the new gal!"

"I know, Baby. I know," Annabeth said, "But�"

"And here it comes," Alex said rolling her eyes and reaching for Max's diaper bag. "This is the part where you make excuses for Starfleet."

"I don't set the rotation schedule, Alex!" Annabeth said putting her hands against her chest. "Besides, we're already at Earth twice as often as any other ship in the fleet. Most ships on security patrols are six months in and six months out."

"Dammit, Beth! I wore that uniform for eight years too, you know? I haven't forgotten everything yet. I especially remember the reasons I left."

"I'm sorry," Annabeth said shaking her head and rubbing her eyes.

"Mommy said a bad word�" Max said laughing again.

"Yes, she did, Baby Boy. She shouldn't have." Alex was obviously still very upset. "We gotta go. If we don't make it to the public transporter by 0730, I won't make it back to Europe before I'm late to work. I already don't have a lot of slack considering I fought for that time off," she grumbled. "I love you," she added curtly. Just before she reached up to terminate the transmission, Annabeth shouted out desperately.

"Wait! Can you just hold up Max one more time?"

Alex could see tears forming in her wife's eyes. She nodded and held their son up to the screen. He started furiously waving with one of his chubby arms again. He clutched naS to his chest with the other.

"I love you, Mommy!" Max shouted. "Bye bye!"

"Bye Baby! I love you this much!" Annabeth's voice cracked as she held her arms out as long as they could reach.

"I do love you, Beth," Alex said reigning in her frustration. "I'm sorry. We'll figure it out. We always do."

Annabeth nodded as she gently touched her screen.

"Go, I love you," she said. Alex kissed her fingers and touched the screen on the other side of the galaxy. Then, the transmission cut out. The faces of Annabeth's family were immediately replaced with the seal of the Federation and the words:

"END COMMUNICATION"

Annabeth chucked her PADD across the room before looking out her window. She could just make out her reflection. The four golden pips on her collar shimmered against the backdrop of the cold, lonely blackness of the Romulan Neutral Zone. A few more tears streaked down her face before she reached over and picked up her glass of wine. She downed the entire thing in one gulp.

Villa Tralliakii (Trallian Family Estate): Romulus, Romulan Star Empire

The Trallian family estate rested in a fertile valley surrounded on three sides by the hills of Demia Province. The western edge gently slopped downwards towards the coastline of the Apnex Sea.

Romulus' twin moons, Pirek and Elvreng, hung silently in the sky among a sea of stars. A gentle breeze flowed in from the Apnex and gently rustled through the four hundred acres of kheh. The deep blue stalks of grain were over a meter and a half high. They gave off the rich, sweet aroma that signaled they were ready for harvest. As the crops swayed, the harastu crickets hiding inside the endless rows chirped loudly to signal their presence.

On the southeastern hill overlooking the entire estate, a pair of Reman military boots stepped forward and stopped. Their owner looked across the fields at the towering façade of Trallian's house over a league away. Only one light remained on among the dozens of darkened windows. The cluster of servants' homes peeking out from the northwestern side of building was completely still. The men, women, and families were all peacefully sleeping in anticipation of an early start to another day of productive work.

"My Lord," Vkruk said walking up behind Shinzon with annother Reman officer. "All units report ready."

Shinzon raised a pair of electric binoculars to his eyes and scanned their objective.

"Colonel Shrok," the general said calmly.

"Sir?" the officer said steeping forward.

"Once the perimeter has been established, deploy the commandos to raid the main house. Semachs wants the senator to stand public trial for his betrayal. Then, deploy the main force to obliterate the estate. We'll take his servants alive for questioning, but wipe the buildings from the face of Romulus. By sunrise, I don't want two boards left nailed together or two stones with mortar between them."

"And if the servants resist?" Shrok asked.

"I'm a busy man, Colonel," Shinzon replied. "I don't have time to dawdle. If they give you a problem, kill them."

"Understood Sir," Shrok said. "What about the senator's wife and daughters? Do you want them alive as well?"

"What possible use would I have for a spoiled Romulan whore and her two brats?" Shinzon said dismissively. He scanned the perimeter of the house with his binoculars. He noticed an old Romulan figtree in the courtyard. "Once the house is destroyed, hang their corpses from those branches for all to see. We are trying to send a message, after all."

"Yes Sir," Shrok said obediently before stepping away to issue orders to the men. Shinzon glanced over to Vkruk. His old mentor sat silently in the darkness staring out towards the estate.

"What is it, Vkruk?" Shinzon said with a sigh. "Really, your constant misgivings are starting to become a bore…"

"I don't find the prospect of killing women and children as appealing as you seem to…" he said with a chastising tone in his voice.

"No, no," Shinzon said holding up a hand. "Not women and children…Romulan women and children. Just how many Reman children have you seen starved, beaten, or crushed in the mines? Thousands? Tens of thousands? How much suffering has rich Romulan scum like that caused to the people of our world? How many Reman children died refining dilithium or building starships to support the Federation/Romulan Alliance in its imperialist war against the Dominion?

There is a force for justice in this galaxy, my friend, and we…are…it. Trallian's family is just the first of many that will die to balance the scales."

Vkruk clenched his claws and pursed his fangs. He hated to admit it, but he knew that most of his people felt exactly as Shinzon did.

"Perhaps the general has a point," Vkruk thought to himself. "Once Remus is in control of Romulus, once Earth and the rest of the Federation is burned to a cinder, we will have brought peace to the entire galaxy. Perhaps a little mass-murder is justified if it is for a greater good…"

****

Samilla looked up from her needle-point for the tenth time. Her husband was still sitting in an overstuffed leather chair with a snifter of kali-fal. He stared at the massive portraits of his parents hanging on the wall of the sitting room. Trallian's father, in full dress robes, stared down from the frame with a bunch of kheh grain at his side. Even in his own portrait, he wanted his posterity to know he was a proud brewer of spirits above all else. Trallian's mother stared down at the senator with a smile and a handful of vareet blossoms, her favorite flower, grasped in her left hand. Thanks to that woman's efforts, vareet bushes now bloomed across the estate.

Samilla smiled at her fond memories of Lady Sebsta, her mother-in-law. She was one of the kindest Romulans Samilla had ever met. The current lady of the house even kept Sebsta's teral'n beneath her painting as a tribute to the woman who made her feel a part of the family more than anyone else.

"I loved them too," Samilla muttered while putting another stitch into her work, "but alas, the gods took them from us to the afterlife. No matter how hard you stare at their faces, they won't talk to you."

Trallian sighed.

"I can hear my mother's voice every time I smell the vareet from the veranda. 'A Romulan man must be more than cunning,' she used to tell me. 'He must also have the courage to do what's right.'"

Then, he took a long sip from his kali-fal.

"This," he said holding up the glass. "This is how my father talks to me."

"I thought we were saving the 2320 Hors D'Age for Sevon and Sepina's wedding dowries?" Samilla asked while furrowing her brow.

"My future sons-in-law won't miss one bottle," Trallian said taking a dip sniff of the ultra-fine Romulan Ale that would easily go for ten bars of latinum per case on the Ferengi markets. "I was twelve years old when we brewed this batch," Trallian said with a smile. "I can still remember my father taking me down to the vats as the kheh was steeping. He reached into a copper kettle with his bare hands and pulled out a fistful of wort. 'Smell this, Boy!'," Trallian chuckled as he imitated his father's gruff voice. "'Real kali-fal only has three ingredients: the finest kheh, the purest water, and time!" Trallian looked back to his wife. "He always hated what the more commercial breweries were doing by throwing in citrus peels, hochus buds, or carok spice."

"I remember the lectures…" Samilla said making another stich on her needlepoint.

"'If you smell fruit or flowers or spices: anything besides kheh,'" Trallian said going back to his father's voice, "'it means the brewer is hiding something rotten in their vats they don't want you to know about.'" Trallian took another sip from his glass and sucked in a lungful of air to help put down the burn of the spirit. Then, he turned to look right at his wife. "My love, I haven't smelled the kheh in the Romulan Empire for a very long time. I don't think I ever will again."

Samilla put down her sewing and looked back at her husband. She understood what he was implying. In fact, since he first told her about Rellas two years ago, she had been planning her own emergency contingencies.

"I've spoken to my cousin. She can take the girls to her summer home in the Gamiotsystem, but I'm not leaving you alone on Romulus. It would look too suspicious if I left as well."

Trallian took another drink.

"I don't think Gamiot is far enough away," he replied. "It's remote, but still under Romulan control."

The gravity of what Trallian was saying finally hit her. Her lip started quivering as she looked around the room scattered with memories of a life they built together for the past half century.

"How far will they have to go to be safe?" she asked unsure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

"All the way," Trallian said firmly. "And for that, they'll need their mother."

"You don't think they'll need their father?" Samilla replied in shock. "They love you! We all love you! We all need you…"

"If I go, we'll all be hunted. If I stay, you'll have a chance," Trallian said shaking his head. "You don't need me. You're strong. Sevon and Sepina are strong." Trallian lifted his almost empty glass to the portrait of his mother. "This Romulan man also has the courage to do what's right…"

He then savored the last taste of the exquisite kali-fal handed down to him from his parents.

Suddenly, they both heard a loud bang outside the door. There was a terrible screech and the crash of shattering glass. Trallian leapt from his chair and turned to see what the commotion was. Samilla dropped her needlepoint to the carpet

"Marsus!" she screamed jumping towards her husband.

The doors flew open. A Reman trooper was standing there with a disruptor rifle in his claws. Trallian was about to dive between the creature and his wife, when the soldier dropped to his knees and fell face down. The two Romulans gazed at the long throwing spear sticking straight out of its back. Rellas stepped forward and ripped his weapon out of the Reman's armor.

"Hello, old friend," the Gralluscan said slightly out of breath. "We were a bit delayed reaching you, but we're here now. I didn't want you thinking I'm not a man of my word."

A green skinned Orion woman carrying a Klingon disruptor rifle and a pistol wielding Sarcassan walked in behind him. The Orion sprinted over and glanced out the window.

"We gotta go, Boss! If we thought getting in here was hard, getting out of here is becoming worse by the second."

"What is going on?" Trallian demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Rellas replied with a question of his own. "We found out that you've been compromised. Shinzon's soldiers are everywhere. They've already got commandos in the house and more troops are moving in through the fields."

"You came all the way here to save us?" Trallian said in disbelief.

"You have done enough for us ten times over," Rellas said with a nod. "Unfortunately, we really don't have the time to reminisce right now. Seebo!" Rellas shouted out into the hall. Another warrior carrying an automatic disruptor and a bandolier of grenades stepped into the room.

"Oh gods!" Samilla said pushing back from her husband.

"Grass?" Rellas shouted into his wrist mounted communicator. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, My Lord," a voice responded. "I have the ship on the backside of the southern hill, but I don't know how much longer we can stay. The Remans are focused towards the villa, but it's only a matter of time before they find us."

"Alright, we have the senator and his wife heading towards you now with Esrak and Seebo. I'll stay back with Valaa and try to get to the children. If we're not back in fifteen minutes, take off."

"Understood," Grass replied. "I'll have our fighters pulling local security link up with Seebo and Esrak and guide them in."

"To hell with that!" Samilla roared. "If there're Remans in my house, I have to get Sevon and Sepina!"

"We're not going anywhere without our daughters!" Trallian

"Senator, Lady Samilla, there's nothing that you can do for them," Rellas said holding up his hands. "Valaa and I will keep them safe, but right now, you must go or we could lose all four of you…"

"You obviously haven't dealt with many Romulan mothers, have you?" Samilla spit back at him as she turned towards the hallway.

"Listen Lady!" Seebo said, "We're not arguing with you. If Rellas says you go, you go!"

She reached down and grabbed Seebo's wrist. In flash, she ripped his arm away, grabbed him by the collar of his body armor, and flung him five meters across the room into the opposite wall. As everyone was marveling at Seebo's sudden flight, Samilla grabbed Lady Sebsta's teral'n from beneath her portrait. She clicked open the blades and sprinted out into the corridor so fast it was difficult to see.

"SAMILLA!" Trallian shouted desperately as he ran out after her.

"Shit" Seebo groaned as he climbed back to his feet. "I forgot how strong Romulans were…"

"Nice move, dumbass!" Valaa said charging her disruptor rifle. Then, she ran out towards the hall as well.

"Valaa, where are you going?" Rellas shouted desperately.

"To keep them alive! Otherwise we made this trip for nothing!"

Trallian's daughters slept soundly in their side-by-side beds. Their room was on the very top floor of the villa. It was cheerfully decorated with toys, dollhouses, and pictures scrawled with crayon on construction paper. The three-meter tall arched window looked out towards the Apnex. Mora, their Elohsian nanny, had left it open on this rather warm evening so her beloved charges could sleep with a cool sea breeze.

Nine-year old Sevon slept soundly clutching her stuffed set'leth. Her little sister, six-year old Sepina, was curled around her favorite doll. Neither of them stirred when a long, black rope dropped down from the roof of the villa to the floor of their balcony.

One at a time, three Reman commandos slid down and entered the bedchamber. The trio raised their disruptor rifles and quickly spied their targets lying in the darkness. The leader clicked his mouth as he sent telepathic commands to his two soldiers. The first nodded and made his way over to Sevon's bed. He stared down at the sleeping Romulan girl and bared his fangs in disgust. Then, he pointed his razor-sharp double bayonet directly at her chest. He wanted to cleave her heart in two on the first thrust so her screams wouldn't wake the sister…

A mighty kick from the hall knocked the wooden door completely loose from its hinges. It crashed to the ground and caused all three Remans to look up with surprise. Both girls opened their eyes. When they saw the demonic shapes standing over them, Sevon and Sepina shrieked in terror at the top of their lungs.

A flash of grey and green silk dove straight at the first Reman soldier. Samilla spun the shaft of the teral'n around her neck to give the outer blades momentum. Then, she snapped her wrist and let the weapon loose in a mighty strike that took the Reman's head clean off. It dropped to the stone floor and rolled towards the other commandos while trailing green blood behind it.

The second Reman attempted to raise his rifle, but Samilla was already on him. She roared in rage as she used the teral'n to knock his disruptor away. The Reman tried to bring the blades of his bayonet around, but Samilla parried every strike with incredible speed. Finally, she slammed the blunt end of the shaft straight down onto his boot. The sound of crunching bone echoed from the walls as he yowled in pain. Samilla then silenced him by thrusting the three curved blades of the teral'n straight into his chest. When she ripped it free, the resulting hemorrhage covered her from head to toe with green gore. With another twist of her hips, his severed head joined his friend's on the floor.

The Reman squad leader stared at this blood-spattered woman with utter rage in her fiery eyes. Samilla dropped down to her back leg and raised her weapon like a sand-scorpion's tail ready to strike.

"I'm ninety-two years old,"Samilla sneered at him "I've seen things in my life a lot scarier than you. What else have you got?"

He shrieked in terror and turned to run back out the window. Samilla raised her teral'n and heaved it with all her might. The blades slammed into the Reman's back completely impaling him.

Trallian and Valaa arrived in the doorway just in time to see Samilla crush the squad leader's skull with her foot and pull the teral'n from his back. They watched speechless as she stood holding her gore covered weapon silhouetted in the moonlight.

"Ho…ly…Shit," Valaa said staring at the Reman bodies. The floor of the nursery was now completely covered in a deep pool of green blood.

"Mommy!" Sepina cried out. Sevon was still too in shock to speak. She merely sat upright clutching the plush set'leth to her chest as tears streamed down her face.

"My babies!" Samilla shouted sprinting over between the beds. She lifted both girls into her arms and held them tightly. "It's ok. It's ok. Mommy is here and nothing will happen now. You're safe! You are safe!"

Trallian grabbed his chest and dropped to his knees with relief.

"Romula, Queen of Seleya, and the pantheon of your raptor children, thank you. By all the gods, thank you," he prayed trying to catch his breath.

"What happened?" Rellas shouted as he arrived with a limping Seebo at his side. Valaa only pointed to the carnage.

"By Kahless!" the Gralluscan exclaimed. "Who did this?"

Samilla turned to him, still clutching Sevon and Sepina tightly. When Rellas saw the blood-stained teral'n at her feet and her robes spattered green, he made the sign of the tIq ghob.

"When you found you," Valaa said clutching her rifle, "you were doing needle point on a plush couch. Now, you take out three Reman special ops commandos like it's nothing! Who taught you to do that?"

"Before time began," Samilla replied while still holding her terrified daughters close, "Romula, the Raptor Goddess, Queen of the Universe, ruled from her nest at the top of Mount Seleya. For half the day, she would stand guard over her eggs for she loved her children more than all the treasures of the heavens. The other half of the day, she would bring her starry blanket of invisibility down over the world to keep her nest safe and warm as she patrolled the limits of her domain…"

Rellas, Valaa, and Seebo were confused, but thought better than to interrupt.

"Far beneath her holy peak, Vulca'an, the Sand Dragon, Destroyer of the Holy, searched for a way to bring Romula's reign to an end so he could rule the universe. For untold centuries, he plotted and planned, but could not find a way to pierce her cloak of invisibility. Finally, in a fit of rage, he thrust his tail deep into the ground. Fire roared forth, and burned away Romula's cloak of invisibility. The darkness became as bright as day. Vulca'an could see her unguarded nest. He slithered to the top of Mount Seleya and swallowed her eggs whole. Then, he retreated back to the ground.

Romula returned and wept for her lost children. Her endless tears filled the oceans and quenched the fires that Vulca'an had brought forth. She swore revenge.

First, she plucked the feathers from her body so that Vulca'an would not recognize her. However she left two hidden by her long hair to always remind her of her divine, avian heritage."

Samilla lifted her dark hair to reveal her pointed ears.

"Then, Romula ripped the wings from her back. From their bones, she fashioned a shaft. Next, she ripped the talons from her hands and made them into blades sharper than steel."

Samilla picked up the bloody teral'n and held it so they all could see.

"Her creation was the teral'n: the mother spear, first of all weapons. With it, she came down from the heights of Seleya, and found Vulca'an resting. His stomach was full and his eyes were heavy. He did not recognize the creature in front of him, and so he let himself fall asleep. Romula sliced off his head and slit his belly wide open. She rescued her eggs from inside Vulca'an's corpse, and then used his bones to carve the peaks of the valleys of the world."

Samilla thrust the end of the teral'n into the floor with enough force to crack the marble.

"That is why all Romulan women learn to use this weapon," she said gritting her teeth. "Because Romulan women don't appreciate it when you fuck with their children."

Trallian ran over and wrapped all three of them in his arms.

"Oh," Valaa said shrugging her shoulders sarcastically. "Is that why the planet is called 'Vulcan?' Cool, learn something new every day. Oh, we probably should go before all the Reman soldiers outside try to kill us again!"

"Enough!" Rellas shouted trying to regain control of the rescue. "We have you all now. Let's get out of here."

"My Lord!" Gras suddenly shouted through the communicator. "The Remans found us! They're jamming all the transporter frequencies. I can't get you out. They're also shooting at us…"

The transmission suddenly cut off into static.

Rellas, Trallian, and Valaa ran out to the window just in time to see a bright flash of heavy weapons fire flash across the southern hill. They could see the Remans laying waste to the brave fighters left guarding their escape route. Then, there was a massive explosion in the small creek bed where Gras and their security skiff were hiding. A fireball rose two hundred meters into the air.

Rellas shut his eyes and looked to the heavens. He implored that Kahless would accept his fallen men and women into his arms.

"Your followers are the bravest men and women I have ever seen. My family will forever be grateful for their sacrifice," Trallian said softly trying to soften the sting of loss.

"As will I," Rellas said with a deep breath.

"My Lord!" Esrak loudly chirped as he ran into the room followed by three other fighters. "The Remans have us surrounded! Their forces are moving in from the west, south, and east. We're trapped!"

Rellas looked down to the fields to see ten dark shapes slicing through the outer edges of Trallian's kheh fields. They were too distant to see in the darkness, but soon the unmistakable sound of grinding metal tracks reached their ears.

"Those are Reman tanks!" Valaa said with a sharp breath.

"Do you have another ship?" Trallian asked. Rellas merely shook his head.

"Why aren't they attacking from the north?" Valaa said.

"The northern hills are almost sheer rock face," Trallian answered. "If you don't know the area, you'd think they were impassable."

"But I'm guessing you do know the area?" Rellas said looking over with a bit of hope.

"We can take the service passages out towards the servant's quarters," Samilla said stepping forward. Her daughters were still clutching the sides of her robes "If we can get through the fields, there's a small draw that will take us through the cliffs unobserved. There are also many caves we can hind in until we can get to Nepor village on the other side. We can find transport there."

"Through the fields?" Seebo said in disbelief. "I don't know if you all are keeping track of the current events, but do you not see the massive front of Reman soldiers down there?

"We have to try!" Trallian spit back at him.

"He's right," Valaa agreed. "We can't just stay here and wait like hlai'hwy for the slaughter."

"Alright," Rellas said nodding his head. "Senator, it's your house. Lead the way."

Trallian turned towards the doorway and declared:

"I'm not a senator anymore…"

By the time Trallian, Rellas, and the rest of their group spilled out the back door and into the servant's courtyard, the villa workers and their families had already poured out of their cottages and were trying to figure out what was happening.

"My Lord!" Sormok, the middle-aged Devorian foreman of the estate shouted running up to Trallian. "What is happening? Who are these people?"

"MORA!" Sevon shouted desperately as she spotted her nanny in the crowd. Sepina cowered next to her sister and desperately held her arms out. The young Elohsian woman pushed her way forward and dove down to wrap her arms around the two Romulan girls.

"They tried to hurt us!" Sevon shouted over and over again.

"Who tried to hurt you?" Mora said rubbing their backs trying to calm them down. Samilla let Mora take her daughters. She then adjusted the grip on her teral'n and stepped next to Trallian.

"They have always been absolutely loyal. They have always cared for us," Samilla told her husband. "Tell them. They deserve to know everything."

Trallian sighed and looked out at the fifty terrified pairs of eyes staring back at him.

"Many of your families have served mine for generations," the senator began. "In some ways, this home belongs to you as much as it does to me. You have tilled the soil, planted the gardens, brewed our kali-fal. My father and my grandfather before him ardently believed that free men and women take pride in their work. Slaves do not. I believe the same which is why you have always been free.

However, as most of you understand, conditions are not the same in the rest of the empire. Millions suffer in the most horrific conditions of bondage." Trallian motioned to the Gralluscan standing next to him. "This is Rellas, leader of the rebellion against the Romulan Star Empire. For two years, I have supported his fight against the government because I believed it was the only chance to improve this country.

But now, my actions have been discovered. The proconsul's forces have come to take me and my family. I thought that by keeping you all in ignorance, I was keeping you safe. I was wrong.

The government has sent Reman shock troops and tanks. Those are the sounds you hear approaching from all sides. That means they intend to devastate all of this." He said longingly looking back to the old house and its idyllic fields."

Trallian looked out at the sea of shocked and saddened faces of all ages staring back at him. Never in his life had he felt so ashamed.

"I beg you, do not run. If they catch you, they'll probably shoot you on sight. You have one chance: betray me. Surrender to the Remans and immediately swear loyalty to the people and senate of Romulus. The rest of us will try to distract them."

There was a long moment of silence. Many of the adults with families nodded and took several steps back. However, a few of the younger servants and farmhands didn't budge. Finally, Sormok stepped forward.

"You were a senator and a member of the Continuing Committee," he said in disbelief. "And yet you still supported the rebels?"

Trallian actually fought back a laugh.

"My friend, don't confuse being among the powerful as having power. I could either have continued to watch the suffering or attempt to do something about it. This was the only way I could see," he said gesturing back to Rellas and his fighters.

"I speak for the free workers of this villa," Sormok said turning to the crowd. They could hear the sounds of the Reman soldiers now less than a kilometer away. "My family has indeed served the Trallians for over two hundred years. My father shared his beliefs with me as well. He said, 'you will never find a Romulan anywhere with more honor than this family. They keep us safe, while most would have us in chains. We are lucky to be here.'"

He turned to look straight at Trallian.

"I also believe the same as my father."

Trallian and Samilla looked back with gratitude.

"Is it the intention of you and your soldiers to fight for our lord?" Sormok said turning to Rellas.

"The only chance we have to escape is to try to punch through to the north hills," Rellas answered. Sormok nodded in understanding. Then, the foremen turned to the other workers.

"I fault no man or woman for wishing to surrender. If that is your intention, gather the children and take them to the fermenting cellars under the barns. You will be safest there away from the house. However, if you wish to stay with me, and continue to serve this family until the end, step forward."

Fifteen stepped forward and gathered around Sormok. Mora stayed at Sevon and Sepina's side.

Sormok then turned to Rellas and Trallian.

"We are yours to command. What is your plan?"

Rellas took stock of the motley crew. The good news was that his force had more than doubled in size. The bad news was they were still no match for an armored assault.

"I'm the new one here," Rellas said with a shrug. "Tell me, what's the best way to go for an evening stroll through the kheh?"

****

The enemy was now less than four hundred meters from the house. Shinzon's tanks were spaced out in a file across the entire length of the field. Their metal tracks groaned and whined as they ripped the ripe stalks of kheh from the ground and churned the soil beneath their hulking hulls. Reman panzer grenadiers marched between the tanks at five meter increments. Each dismount carried a disruptor rifle at the ready. It would be their job to make sure nothing snuck out of the tightening net when the tanks attacked.

The Reman armor officers stood out of their hatches scanning the darkness with their sharp nocturnal eyes. Their vehicles' massive disruptor cannons searched back and forth for any targets of opportunity. Each soldier had an earpiece for their subspace radios affixed to their pointed ear, but the grunts were still close enough that short range telepathy sufficed.

"Negative enemy contact," one of the Reman dismounted squad leaders thought to his platoon leader riding in the turret of a nearby tank.

"Understood," the officer sent back to him. "Continue to advance and report."

Out of the darkness, the squad leader suddenly saw a saucer-like object ten centimeters across fly from a dense patch of kheh to their front. It landed directly in the path of his platoon leader's tank. It took a split-second for the squad leader to register what it was, but by the time his brain cried out in all directions, it was too late.

"An anti-matter mine! Stop! STOP!"

The platoon leader turned to his dismounts precisely as the tracks of his vehicle rolled over the mine. An enormous explosion echoed through the night. The tank was blown completely apart. Its turret shot twenty meters in the air as it rode the giant fireball.

The Reman infantry turned towards the patch of kheh and raised their rifles, but Seebo had already drawn a bead from another row with his pulse disruptor. He pressed the trigger and let loose a long stream of green blasts. His shots tore the Reman infantry to charred pieces and they collapsed into the furrows dead.

The other infantry screeched and shouted as they dashed towards the flaming hulk. Two other nearby tanks turned sharply and began traversing their turrets toward the origin of the shots. As their vehicles swayed and lurched into the sharp turn, they didn't see the two field hands crawling towards them through the mud.

"Light them!" the two men screamed before each throwing a glass jug on top of the armored turrets. Each vessel was filled with a mixture of harvester lubricant and raw high-proof Romulan Ale. A flaming rag in the neck completed the welcoming gift. The impromptu fire bombs hit at the same time. They shattered against the metal roofs and sent a curtain of flame against the vehicle commanders in the hatches. The Reman officers screeched in pain as the pale, gray flesh was roasted off their bodies by improvised napalm. One dove from his vehicle to the ground only to be crushed by the treads of his own tank. The second officer dropped down into his turret and set off an explosion when his flaming limbs contacted the disruptor cannon's power packs.

Another tank two hundred meters away panicked. Its gunner slew his big gun over and started firing wildly in the direction of the burning tanks. The fusillade blew huge chunks of soil and pieces of Reman dismounts into the air before setting the fields around it alight.

The advance towards the villa halted immediately. The infantry ran in five different directions trying to ascertain where the attack was coming from. The telepathic noise was deafening to everyone within mindshot as officers lost control of their men in the ensuing chaos.

****

"WHAT IS HAPPENING!?" Shinzon roared from his observation post on the hill. He may have called himself a Reman, but the human clone couldn't hear the telepathy echoing around him. Vkruk was holding his claws over the side of his head. Even the old man's experienced mind couldn't handle the screaming and shouts from the other Remans.

"They're being attacked," he said trying to focus on the more useful messages. "They don't know where it's coming from! There's automatic disruptor fire. They can see armed fighters moving through the kheh, but they're moving too fast to get a count…"

Shinzon cursed loudly as he grabbed his subspace radio. He screamed at all his forces through the radio:

"This is General Shinzon! Continue to push forward. Tank commanders, do not fire laterally! Keep your cannons forward and engage any target you see. Infantry, regroup between the tanks and watch for squirters! If anyone escapes through the net, I will have every single one of you executed for your failure!"

****

Seebo dove through a kheh furrow and landed next to Rellas. Valaa, Esrak, and Trallian were beside him. Trallian and Samilla and Mora held the girls tightly trying to keep them calm and moving. Sevon and Sepina were shaking from head to toe with fear, but somehow their legs still moved forward.

"Three tanks destroyed and about thirty infantry dead! We have them confused for now," Seebo said quickly changing the power pack on his disruptor. "Sormok has his people with ours taking cover in the rows. We're working to keep them pinned down, but it looks like they're starting to reform. My Lord, you need to go now. Get out of here while you have a chance!"

"We can't just leave them," Valaa said desperately looking back towards the battle area. She saw R'yigar, a loyal comrade since Daxos, stand up in a furrow forty meters away. He was guiding one of the villa's servants. Each had a plasma grenade in their hands. R'yigar let his fly at a nearby tank. The servant threw at the infantry beside it. Both bombs exploded. The Reman infantry were killed, but the tank was undamaged. It fired its main cannon right in between them. In a deafening flash, both men were carried to the afterlife.

"We're getting cut to pieces!" Valaa screamed.

Shinzon's threatening guidance was working. The Remans were indeed reforming. An infantry squad fired their rifles at a patch of grain holding another trio of rebel fighters. The tank next to them opened up with its turret mounted machine disruptors and mowed down the entire area.

"No!" Esrak shouted. "That was N'char, Chirba, and Brox!"

The Reman infantry ran over to check the kills, but one of the fighters still had a surprise left. Chirba, a former field worker freed from Jahandra II, pulled the pin on his last grenade. The revenge explosion cost Shinzon another squad.

"They're dying so that these folks can live!" Seebo shouted while pointing at the Trallians. "We don't have time to argue! I'll clear a path. Follow me!"

"Valaa, he's right!" Rellas shouted. He grabbed her and pulled. Soon the entire group was diving over muddy furrows, puddles, and thick stalks of kheh on their way towards the northern hills.

A Reman tank caught the signs of their movement just off its front right corner. Its turret slewed over and pointed its gun right at the fleeing group.

"FOR HOUSE TRALLIAN!" A voice screamed out through the night. The senator and his wife looked over. Sormok dove out of the kheh directly in front of the looming metal beast and pulled the pin on a plasma grenade. The kind, old foreman didn't know where to throw the bomb, so he did the only thing he could think of. He held it to his chest and dove right between the tracks.

"NOOO!" Mora shouted just as the explosion ripped through the light armor of the vehicle's belly. The shockwave produced a secondary explosion as the ammunition went. Another fireball lit up the night sky.

Nearby infantry heard the Elohsian's shouts and began firing their rifles blindly in her direction.

"AHHHH!" she screamed as they found their mark. Mora fell to the ground with a gaping wound through her chest. Sevon and Sepina shrieked as Rellas, Seebo, and the other rebels all returned fire.

Samilla crawled over and held the women's body in her arms.

"Mora!" Samilla said with tears streaming down her face.

Sevon and Sepina begged and pleaded for her to get up.

"Mora, I'm so sorry. This is all our fault!" Samilla howled.

"No it isn't…" the Elohsian said reaching out and taking the little girls' hands one final time. "Keep them safe, I beg you. I always loved them….I always…" Her head fell to the dirt and she was gone.

"Senator!" Rellas shouted as his disruptor took out another Reman grenadier. Valaa scored another kill, and then a long burst from Seebo's pulse disruptor finished off the rest of the squad.

"My loves," he said grabbing his wife with one arm and his daughters with the other. "My loves, we have to keep moving!"

"Mora, get up!" Sevon pleaded while she still reached for her nanny's hand. "Mora, please get up!"

"We can't just leave her here!" Samilla shouted. "She's our family!"

"Yes she was, but she's dead!" Trallian pleaded. "We will be too soon if we stay here. If you respect her wishes, we have to go!"

Samilla choked back her tears and helped her husband carry the girls. Both Sevon and Sepina were now bawling uncontrollably.

The Remans were fast regaining the upper hand. Tanks with infantry support were fiercely firing across the field. Hundreds of disruptor shots sizzled through the air. They mixed with the tremendous booms from the tank cannons which were fast obliterating all that stood in their way. The other groups of fighters and servants fired whatever hand weapons they had left. The brave souls managed to take down a few more scattered infantryman, but one by one each fell with great valor.

Finally, two Reman tanks moved around to trap Rellas and Trallian's group between them. As the senator saw the two armored leviathans closing in, he looked to his family, and then to Rellas.

"Give me some grenades," he said trying to steady his voice. "And take care of my children…"

Rellas grabbed the senator by the collar of the robes.

"The Romulan Star Empire has made enough widows and orphans," the Gralluscan said with iron resolve. "I will not be responsible for making three more. Stay with your family and live well. Valaa!" he said turning to the Orion. "Stay with the Trallians and get them out safely. Esrak, Seebo, and I will distract them."

Seebo looked to Esrak. In a moment of tova'dok worthy of the ancient sagas, they both said much without a single spoken word.

"Rellas…" Esrak said calmly. "Your fight doesn't end here. Senator Trallian himself said the answer lies at Hobus. Valaa and you are strong enough to go on alone. We aren't. Thank you for showing me what it is to live without fear."

The Reman tanks were less than forty meters away.

"He's right, Sir," Seebo said. "We can't let the Remans think they've won. Go to Hobus. Finish this fight."

"Good luck and take care," Valaa said trying to keep her emotions down. She knew there was no point in arguing.

Before Rellas could argue, Esrak grabbed two grenades from Seebo's bandolier. He roared as loudly as he could, jumped to his feet and charged straight at the left tank. Seebo raised his pulse disruptor and charged towards the right one.

Rellas' mouth dropped aghast as he watched his last soldiers charge straight into death with heads held high.

"May your glory light the way to paradise…" Rellas whispered as he grabbed Trallian and started running as fast as he could. Valaa grabbed the women and followed.

The Reman soldiers were so shocked to see two men charging them, they momentarily froze. Esrak raised a disruptor pistol and managed to shoot two of them in the chest. The left tank's commander desperately tried to swing his pulse disruptor over, but Esrak pulled the pins on both grenades and let them fly. They landed right in the commander's open hatch and exploded. The tank went up in a ball of flame.

The Remans on the ground opened fire with their rifles. They gunned Esrak down with three furious bursts.

"FREEDOM!" Seebo shouted digging his heavy automatic weapon against his hip. He fired his entire power pack while running at full speed. His shots cleaved the remaining soldiers nearly in half. The second tank's commander managed swung his pulse disruptor over and opened fire. Two burst passed through Seebo's chest.

The fighter stumbled as he felt the searing energy shred in his organs, but he had enough momentum to make it three more meters before collapsing. As his vision slowly went dark, he saw the bulk of the tank start to roll over him. Seebo forced a final grin as he picked the last two grenades off his bandolier. Then, he pulled their pins.

"I'll see you in hell…"

A massive explosion engulfed the vehicle in flames…

****

The Trallians reached the northern hills on the edge of the fields. Sevon and Sepina were no longer crying. A strange numbness had set in. Less than an hour before, they had been sleeping peacefully in their beds. Now, they had nothing left in the galaxy except shredded clothes covered with mud and blood.

"Valaa, check the path ahead. We're right behind you," Rellas said softly emerging from the kheh. She nodded and moved out into a narrow valley between the two cliffs.

Rellas gave the Trallian family one last brief moment to look back on their collapsing world. The four Romulans gazed back to see the four surviving tanks reach the villa a kilometer behind them. Instantly, the four turrets roared to life. Their main disruptors were set for maximum yield. The Villa Tralliakii, a proud home which had stood for over half a millennium, was reduced to ashes in less than sixty seconds.

"Our house is gone," Samilla whispered as she still grasped Lady Sebsta's bloody teral'n in her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a quiet prayer to their ancestors. "We failed you."

"No," Trallian said pulling his wife and daughters into his arms. He planted a kiss on each of their foreheads and held them tightly. "That was just a building. House Trallian is still lives on…"

Starbase 12: Gamma 400 Star System, Federation/Romulan Neutral Zone Border

"Attention please," an announcement echoed through the arrival lounge. "Starfleet Space Mobility Command Flight 8762 from Tellar Prime is now arriving in Bay 6. Checked luggage and cargo may be collected at Baggage Pad 17.

Remember, station security is everyone's responsibility. Please report any suspicious baggage, unauthorized personnel, or non-humanoid alien phenomena to law enforcement personnel immediately. If you 'see something, say something.' Thank You. "

Katie squeaked a little bit as she jumped up from her plastic chair.

"Relax there, Lexington," Daredevil said rolling her eyes. "You just saw him like three weeks ago."

"He's my husband. I love the guy, ok?" Katie said defensively. Annabeth chuckled.

"Did I ever mention how cute you two are?" the captain said cocking her head to the side. Katie blushed as she turned towards the main airlock.

A few minutes later, the doors parted and Phil walked out carrying his Starfleet duffel. He was still dressed in a black flight suit.

"Ahhhhh!" Katie shouted as she ran over and leapt into his arms. Phil grunted and dropped his bag as his wife planted a kiss on his lips. "Hey you," she added with a grin and a wink.

"Hey, Katie Bug," he smiled squeezing her tightly and kissing her again.

"Welcome back, Sab!" Daredevil said slapping him on the shoulder. "Alright, let's see it!"

Phil grinned as he reached into his chest pocket and pulled out his brand new Starfleet ID card. It now proudly displayed the words, ""MASTER FLIGHT INSTRUCTOR CERTIFIED."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Daredevil said happily. "You can finally fill out the paperwork for our next qualification."

"With pleasure, Dee," Phil said.

"Now, I don't want you to get cocky," Daredevil cautioned. "Just because you went and graduated 'Top Gun' doesn't mean you're a better a better pilot than I am. I mean, I got the trophy in my class."

"Right…" Phil smiled and shook his head.

"Though it is true," Daredevil said suddenly pursing her lips. "Trophies don't mean everything…"

Phil looked over. Something in the tone of her voice caught him off guard.

"Godfather still calls me from time to time," she continued innocently. "He had some interesting things to say about you this last chat. To be honest, I'm a little surprised you came back at all …"

Annabeth suddenly looked concerned.

"What exactly do you mean by that, Number One?" she asked furrowing her brow.

"She doesn't mean anything, Ma'am," Phil said pulling Katie close to him again. "I'm right back where I belong now."

His wife rested her head on his shoulder.

"Ok…" Annabeth said nervously changing the subject. "Well, I let you go play with the other fighter pilot kids and you come back still wearing pajamas," she said pointing at his flight suit.

"Don't worry," Phil replied. "My regular uniforms are still in my closet on Lady Blackjack."

"Welcome home, Phil," Annabeth smiled back a bit reassured by his answers. "Well done. I'm glad to have you back behind the helm. Lieutenant Moran just doesn't have your touch."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Phil nodded.

Daredevil grabbed the duffel bag and led the Lexingtons back towards the Pershing. Phil didn't take his arm off Katie the entire time.

"Now," Daredevil continued. "Katie and I were planning on cooking you a traditional English dinner to celebrate your return, but halfway through we realized that English food is terrible. So, we made you enchiladas instead…"

Phil chuckled.

"That's ok. I love Mexican food…"

Annabeth watched them walk away for a few moments. She sighed as she saw a married couple back in each other's arms while happily laughing with an old friend. The captain reached down and started gently rotating her wedding band.

It would be another half a year before she could hold Alex and Max like that. There was no telling the next time that Dan and Laria would be in the same part of the galaxy as her again. She briefly considered asking if there was enough food for her to join the party, but finally accepted that it would be just her and her replicator again that evening…

Proconsul's Chambers, Ki-Baratan: Romulus, Romulan Star Empire

Semachs grinned from pointed ear to pointed ear as he walked over to a sideboard for a bottle of kali-fal and two glasses. Shinzon brooded a few meters away with his arms crossed over his purple and gray armor.

"Would you care to join me in a drink? I think this particular brand is about to become quite hard to find," Semachs said before rotating the bottle's label toward Shinzon.

VILLA TRALLIKII SPECIAL RESERVE

2ND YEAR OF THE REIGN OF HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, EMPRESS VEXARIA (2367)

V.S.O.P. KALI-FAL

AGED 10 YEARS IN Y'GORA WOOD BARRELS ON THE PLANET ROMULUS

160 PROOF

"I only drink Romulan Ale when I have something to celebrate…" Shinzon growled.

"Are we not celebrating?" Semachs asked incredulously as he filled both glasses to the brim. "There are no signs of any rebel activity anywhere in the Star Empire. The last remnants of the slave army lies rotting in charred fields just across the sea from where we stand, and the greatest traitor in the history of the Romulan state is gone. I have to admit, Shinzon, I'm impressed."

"We didn't find Trallian's body in the ruins of the villa!" Shinzon countered. "He could still be alive!"

"So what if he is?" Semachs said dismissively as he took a sip from his glass.

Shinzon angrily furrowed his brow.

"Forgive my confusion," he spit back, "but I thought the entire point of the operation was to capture and execute him!"

"Maybe at first," Semachs mused, "but you've given me something much more valuable than another corpse."

"And what is that?" Shinzon asked annoyed.

"You've given me a symbol: a cause to rally the entire empire around!" Semachs said triumphantly. "Trallian is now so much more than just a normal agent of sedition. You see, now we have evidence the slave revolt didn't happen because of any fault of the state. The Romulan government is still without fault."

Shinzon scoffed.

"How exactly to you figure that, Proconsul?"

"Now, we can state the revolt happened because there was an ultimate betrayer of our sacred ideals. This serpent slithered his way into the very heart of our government because of the most vile and treacherous of words forced on us by our alliance with the Federation during the war: 'reform,'" Semachs soliloquized with a series of grandiose hand gestures. "Through the inexhaustible efforts of our officials, we routed the traitor and crushed his rebellion. However, if we say he's still alive, we can say he's still a threat.

If we don't clamp down on dissident protests, Trallian could place his minions back in the government. If we reduce surveillance, Trallian could restart the insurrection. If we allow Federation treaty monitors into our country, Trallian could use them to pass information to our enemies! Trallian…Trallian…Trallian…"

Semachs walked over and held up the second glass towards Shinzon.

"The possibilities are endless. You just gave me the exact thing I needed to seize a firm grip on power for the next century. You have my gratitude, Shinzon, and I don't give that easily."

Semachs looked him straight in the eye. The general knew he had no choice but to accept the proconsul's gesture. Shinzon took the glass and stared down at the blue spirit.

"I suppose we will be hearing the name 'Praetor Semachs' very shortly?" Shinzon snickered.

"Of course not!" Semachs sneered. "The praetor is always the first to be blamed when something goes wrong. However, the proconsul: the hard-working executive behind the man in charge, is always looked on with favor. I just need a person stupid and narcissistic enough to both want the job and do what's he's told…"

"You know, Trallian could actually be dead," Shinzon mused. "I would hate for that little fact to ruin your new scapegoat's usefulness…"

"Alive, dead," Semachs shrugged, "Maybe he'll appear in the Federation or the Klingon Empire. Maybe he'll rent a two-bedroom flat on Fereginar. Maybe his scorched bones are moldering in the ground beneath his obliterated estate. It doesn't really matter. I don't need Trallian in the room for him to cooperate with this." The Reman general laughed and held up his glass with perfect false enthusiasm.

"To the Senate and the People of Romulus, Proconsul," Shinzon toasted.

"Long may they reign," Semachs replied triumphantly before they both drank.

Nepor Community Spaceport: Nepor Village, Romulus

Trallian and his family concealed themselves in the cramped space between a pile of rusted cargo containers and the outside wall of a hanger. Sevon and Sepinia were wrapped in two blankets stolen from the laundry bin of a nearby passenger shuttle. Samilla still watched over her children with the teral'n in her hands. Trallian sat in the dirt with one arm around his wife. He stared at the metal wall in front of him. Valaa, wrapped in a cloak lifted from an unoccupied office, kept watch looking outward. Suddenly, Rellas appeared and stepped into the hiding place.

"It's arranged," he said opening an old nylon bag and pulling out a loaf of bread and some fruit. Samilla immediately put down her weapon and broke off two pieces of the loaf. She handed one to each girl. The children started devouring the food. They hadn't eaten in almost twenty-six hours.

"The shuttle has a cloaking device and should have enough range to get you out of the empire. They're fueling it now," Rellas continued. "Then, the ground crew will take their evening meal break for exactly thirty minutes. What happens during that time, who knows? Are you sure you can fly?"

"I travelled a lot as a younger man," Trallian replied. "I know my way around a helm console."

"I still don't know how you can be so persuasive to non-Romulans, Boss," Valaa said. "They'll catch hell for letting a shuttle get stolen."

"True," Rellas said. "But it's a very useful skill in my line of work. Besides, if you convince them it's to make a Romulan's life harder, they're a lot more willing to cooperate."

Valaa laughed. Samilla did not.

"I cannot thank you enough," Trallian said. "We're all alive because of you."

"I can say the same thing to you," Rellas replied putting his hand on Trallian's. Then, the Gralluscan turned to Valaa. "It's still not too late. There's nothing left for you to prove. You can go with them."

"Are you still going to Hobus?" the Orion asked him.

"Of course," Rellas answered. "I promised Seebo and Esrak I would."

"Well, you're not going to face whatever's there alone. That's final," she said sternly.

"It's not too late for you either," Trallian said. "Rellas, you can come with us too. You can go to Subik IV and live the rest of your days strong and free in the Klingon Empire."

"No," Rellas said turning back to Trallian. "That is not my destiny. However, if you ever see Lucretia again, give her my best regards."

Trallian nodded.

"And if you ever see the Son of Tigranian," Rellas added. He reached into his pocket and handed Trallian a PADD. "Please give him this."

The former senator inhaled sharply. He knew what this meant: Rellas didn't expect to ever return from the Hobus system.

"I give you my word, I will find him," Trallian said placing the PADD into his robes.

"Sevon, Sepina," Rellas called out to Trallian's children. The girls looked over to the tall Gralluscan. "I wish you both health and long life. Know that your father is a man of honor and your mother is a brave warrior. They will always have my respect. Qapla'."

Samilla stood up and slowly walked over to Rellas. She looked him straight in the eyes. He expected her to lash out. He expected her to accuse him of destroying her family, her wealth, and her name. He was ready for that. Instead, she merely leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. This kind act caught him by surprise.

"I know you don't believe in our gods," she said softly, "but I pray they will watch over you all the same. Thank you."

"And I pray that Kahless will guide you as well," Rellas replied.

Then, Rellas and Valaa turned and disappeared. The Trallians were left alone. They had lost their villa. They had lost their name, but they hadn't lost each other. The family spent the final moments on their home planet in each other's arms eating a stolen meal of stale bread and bruised osol fruit.

Trallian looked down at the hunk of blue loaf in his hands. Then, he held it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. A smile crept across his face.

"What is it?" Samilla asked concerned.

"I can smell the kheh," Trallian whispered as he looked into the faces of his wife and daughters. "I can finally smell the kheh again."