'Captain's log, stardate...um, stardate Friday morning, about tenish. It's now only a few weeks till the new Compromise is launched... um, well the old Compromise, but with new bits stuck... hang on, I mean the new ship which was the same as the old ship only with new old bits stuck on...

'What? Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Carmen. The refitted Compromise. That's the one. Anyway, it'll be launched in six weeks time, but till then we've got an assignment to go to Kolbe and preside over a special ceremony. This is going to be our first assignment since the old Compromise... um, the new... um. Since the accident.'

The runabout Kournikova was finally ready for launch. Most of the crew had taken what Euan referred to as their sweet time getting themselves organised and into the ship. Even though it had been two years since they'd been on the Compromise, there were still some things which never changed.

'Thanks for lending us Lieutenant Welles, Mac,' he said to the captain of the Excalibur. 'I didn't anticipate us losing our old pilot like that, so a good conn officer is a definite find.' Privately, Euan smiled to himself. He'd got through a difficult sentence without stuffing it up.

Captain Calhoun shrugged. 'Let me have her back in one piece and I'll call it even,' he said. 'I'm sort of surprised you're leaving early, though. Isn't the dedication ceremony on Kolbe in two weeks?'

'We have to go by Vulcan to pick up Ratbat.'

'I see. Well, are all your crew ready to leave?'

'All except Graham. Where is he?'

The medical officer sauntered into the shuttlebay. 'You know, Euan, I'm gonna miss it here. There are so many interesting people to do on this ship.'

'Graham, get on the runabout and shut up,' Euan ordered tersely. 'I'm sorry, Mac, he's really quite incorrigible.'

'I've known Graham longer than I've known you, Euan; I know what he's like. Well, it's been interesting, I'm sure. Look us up if you're in the neighbourhood again.'

'Will do.' Euan shook the other captain's hand. 'Stay in touch.'

As Lieutenant Welles piloted the ship out of the shuttlebay, Captain Mackenzie Calhoun breathed a sigh of relief. Then he tapped his comm badge. 'Calhoun to the bridge.'

'Lefler here,' the ops officer replied.

'If we ever come across the Compromise crew again, can we please pretend to be another ship?'

'With pleasure, sir.'

Lieutenant Wade Welles was seated in the conn position. As she deftly piloted the Kournikova away from Sector 221-G and the Excalibur, she privately wondered who she'd managed to piss off to get this assignment. If there was one ship in the fleet with a more unusual reputation than that of the Excalibur, it was the Compromise.[1] And now, for the foreseeable future, she was part of that well-oiled machine - well, some kind of machine, at least – which made up the Compromise and her crew.

Captain Bowen wandered from his seat over to her console.

'How's the flight going so far, Lieutenant?'

'All systems functioning properly, Captain.'

'Good. Very good. Um.' He seemed nervous, then smiled. 'So... what do you do for fun on the Excalibur? It's a very interesting ship.'

'Very,' Wade agreed. 'I tried to stay out of the way most of the time. You know what the number one hobby on that ship is.'

Euan nodded. He did.[2]

'Speaking of which, I was wondering if...'

The ship gave a juddering lurch and tipped sideways for a second. Euan was thrown off-balance, and landed in an undignified manner in his second-officer-to-be's lap.

'Crap!' he swore.

'It's for the best, Euie,' Carmen remarked.

'I was getting somewhere with her, I just know it!'

'No, you weren't. If you'd been getting somewhere with her she wouldn't have fishtailed the ship the way she did.'

Euan thought for a moment.

'I should probably try a different approach, yes?'

Carmen considered her response. 'Technically that's what I'm saying,' she replied carefully. 'I was mainly thinking something about snowballs and hell.'

Euan tapped her on the nose. 'Ah, Ms King, you are yet to see the master at work,' he said in a smug fashion.

'Am I hell. You've only ever slept with people by accident, everyone knows that. The second you actually try to pick someone up, it all goes pear-shaped and you wind up looking really stupid.'

Euan elbowed himself out of Carmen's lap. 'Well I'm sure I'll manage to prove you wrong with this, Carms. I have not yet begun to flirt.'

Carmen gave him a long stare. 'No. No, you haven't.'

At the conn console, Wade sighed. At least for the moment they just had to go to a dedication ceremony on Kolbe. What, after all, could go wrong?

'Seventy-three bottles of beer on the wall, seventy-three... hang on, it's seventy-eight. Shit. We're gonna have to start over.'

Lieutenant Nick Akhurst, who was to be chief engineer on the Compromise if they ever got there, balanced another bottle on top of the pyramid of beer bottles that he and Graham had built in the runabout's empty cargo hold. 'Make that seventy-nine, Gra.'

'Fuck. Oh well.' Graham popped the top off yet another bottle and stared ruminatively at it.

'Where are we going anyway?' Nick asked. 'Kolbe's nowhere near Sector 221-G.'

'We gotta head to Vulcan and pick Ratti up before we go to the ceremony.'

'Vulcan?' Nick was somewhat surprised. 'What's she doing on Vulcan? I thought she'd gone for a holiday on Risa.'

'Can you think of any reason Ratbat would want to go to Risa?' Graham asked. 'She doesn't like sex, she doesn't like swimming, she looks crap in a swimsuit, and besides, she doesn't like fun.'

Nick shrugged. 'Makes sense her going to Vulcan, then,' he remarked. 'Fun's illegal there.'

Graham raised a finger. 'Not entirely. I found this cool holosuite program, Vulcan Love-Slave, and let me tell you, Nikos, there is nothing about that program that isn't fun.'

'Yeah, but it's not actually from Vulcan is it?' said Nick.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, it's actually distributed by Pink Pussy Hot Videos in Fyshwick. Which, you may remember, isn't on Vulcan.'

'Ah, details... anyway, if you're a good little engineer, I'll let you borrow it.'

'Fair enough.' Nick declined to mention the fact that he already had borrowed it, and had reprogrammed the Vulcan love slaves in question to look like President Shatner.

'Still,' said Graham. 'It's nice to get back to work. I'm kinda looking forward to this dedication thing.'

'I don't see why we've gotta be there at all,' Nick remarked. He rummaged through the pile of empty beer boxes to find an unopened bottle.

'I think I got the last one, Nikos. Anyway, if we put in an appearance at this gig, they're probably going to realise that we're back in business. We can go to the dedication, all drink seventeen pints of scotch each, pick up the waiting staff, kidnap an important dignitary and leave them naked in a fountain with a flag poking out of their bum.' Graham took a long swig of beer and belched loudly. 'Business as usual.'

'So does that mean we should get out there and paint "Compromise" on the outside of the ship?'

'That,' Graham declared with aplomb, 'would be too much like hard work. Let's just finish getting pissed.'

Nick frowned. 'I can't. You drank all the beer.'

'Too bad.'

'Fucker.'

Vice-Admiral Mark Bishop beamed. He beamed into the conference room, specifically. There were already several dignitaries present, not the least of which being Fleet Admiral Page and Vice-Admiral Walsh. Waiters were drifting around with glasses and plates, and the various bigwigs were indulging in the special type of small talk that comes with being in a foreign land talking to strange and usually completely antithetical people.

'Geoff. Steve. Important event, this?' Mark said with a smile.

'Definitely,' replied Steve. 'It's not every day we get to go to a planet with a thousand different varieties of stout.'

'And it's nice to see a new world entering into the Federation,' amended Geoff.

'A thousand? Really?' Mark's eyes lit up. 'That could be very nice.'

'Why don't you wait till the Compromise crew arrive, Admiral?' Geoff suggested. 'Then the lot of you can go off and embarrass Starfleet together.'

'The Compromise?' Mark was surprised. 'I didn't think there was a Compromise.'

'There wasn't. But there's about to be,' said Steve.

'The ship was destroyed in a rather nasty incident in a parallel universe, I heard,' said Mark.

'That's mostly true,' said Geoff. 'It was destroyed. But that was only the USS Compromise. The parallel universe they got sent to had a PISS Compromise which they kind of...'

'Pinched,' supplied Steve.

'Yeah, that sounds like them.' Mark smiled. 'They nicked an Imperial starship, eh? I bet Section 31 were stoked.'

'Admiral, do you actually read any of those briefs I send you?' asked Geoff, somewhat annoyed. 'This is all utterly out of Section 31's jurisdiction! Or it would be if they existed!'

Steve clapped very, very slowly. 'Lovely save there, Admiral,' he remarked sarcastically.

'So who's looking into this now?' asked Mark. 'I mean, I'm assuming there's some big investigation. It's not every day we get an Imperial starship to play with.'

'Well, they wouldn't let me play in it—' began Steve petulantly.

'Shut up, Admiral Walsh.' Geoff shoved a chicken canape in his open mouth. 'Anyway, you're right that it gives us wonderful research opportunities. There's being some study done by SAGE.'

'SAGE? Oh, that Gallifreyan/Starfleet brainbox convention.' Mark nodded. 'Yeah, I remember them. Sort of.'

'Right. At least, there would be some study done by them—'

'...if they existed, I know.' Mark abducted a drink from a nearby waiter.

'Exactly. Anyway, the ship's been upgraded with as many pieces of the old one they could salvage, and it's being launched in about a month.' Geoff shrugged. 'Personally, if they make it past shakedown I'll be impressed. Even without the Compromise itself, they manage to create mayhem and chaos.'

'Yeah, but you have to admit, it's a very different brand of mayhem and chaos than anyone else in the world can supply,' remarked Steve.

'This is a good thing,' added Mark.

'Ah, Admirals, allow me to introduce Tarklan, the Kolban Prime Minister,' said Geoff, as an older woman made her way to the trio. He made eyebrow gestures indicating that this was an important person and any misbehaviour would be greeted with no dessert and being sent straight to bed. 'She will be officiating at the ceremony.'

'Prime Minister,' said Steve politely.

Mark shook her hand. 'Good to meet you. Now, what's this I hear about your planet having a thousand different varieties of stout?'

Tarklan looked a little taken aback. 'Well, it's really only about eight hundred and fifty. There's some confusion there, though, because on some continents, the same beer is available in different packaging, which many people mistake for a different variety--'

'Excuse me, Tarklan, but I actually wanted to speak to you to clear up a few things about this ceremony,' interrupted Geoff. 'Security for this occasion will be paramount, I believe.'

'That is certainly the case, Admiral. I'm happy to announce that we have finally managed to capture the leader of the Kolera sect, so we can safely proceed with the ceremony without fear of interruption.'

'What's a Kolera sect?' asked Mark.

'They give people nasty infectious diseases,' Steve supplied.

'Admiral, if you would kindly shut up...?' Geoff suggested politely. 'Thank you. The Kolera sect are Rehban political activists who opposed the peace process with Kolbe. Somewhat violently, I believe.'

'We were worried that there would be some protest or disruption of the ceremony,' Tarklan said. 'However, now that Kolera himself is in custody, I don't think we need worry about the rest of his followers.'

'Great. Now, how about that beer?' suggested Mark.

Geoff sighed. 'Tarklan, if you could direct my colleagues to the nearest bar, maybe we could sort out the running order for the ceremony?'

'Certainly,' she said politely. 'On a side note, may I ask when the remainder of the Starfleet representatives are due to arrive?'

Geoff sighed, as he watched two senior members of his staff dash off in search of booze. 'I have a feeling we'll find out when we get to the bar.'

Wade ignored, and Suzy watched, as the Compromise's first officer solidified on the transporter pad.

'Have a nice time on Vulcan?' Suzy asked Ratbat.

It was several days, and several cases of beer, later. The trip to Vulcan had gone fairly quietly, except for a small accident when Graham had decided to drag a Ferengi marauder off at the traffic lights and had accidentally piloted the ship into a photon storm. Nobody had been seriously hurt, although Graham complained he was still seeing little blue and green lights in front of his eyes. The amount of sympathy he wasn't getting was quite heartening to see.

Ratbat shrugged. 'Ehh. Vulcan's pretty interesting, but they have absolutely no concept of humour there. Nice to be back where everyone is completely morally corrupt and likes a nice filthy joke.'

'Speaking of which, did I tell you the one about the—'

'Later, kid. I've got three tons of crap to stash, and I could really use a shower.'

Suzy picked up one of Ratbat's bulging satchels. 'What kind of stuff do you have in here?'

'Just stuff. You know, research stuff. I did a lot of work while I was on Vulcan.'

'Oh, come on, Ratti, everyone knows that "work" is a four-letter word.'

'Aye, troo,' Ratbat nodded. 'It's not, like, work, it's...well, remember back at university? Learning about stuff you're interested in is the good part, but ye never dig tests or essays or what-have-you. Anyway, "bonk"'s a four-letter word too, and people do that all the time.'

'Specially around here,' Suzy agreed. 'Want to catch up on some very funny salacious gossip?'

'Maybe later,' Ratbat said, opening the door to the bunk room. 'Right now, I'd prefer you give me the low-down on this gig we're heading to Kolbe for. I didn't get much of a memo from Admiral Cartman.'

'What was it – a couple of sentences written on the back of a packet of Cheesey-Poofs?'

'More or less.' Ratbat threw herself on to the bed. 'Ah – posture support!'

'Right, this ceremony thing is for Kolbe to start its application for Federation membership. For about three hundred years they were involved in an incredibly vicious war with Rehb – that's a neighbouring planet – and used all kinds of nasty bio-hazardous weapons. Stuff designed to attack Rehban DNA, you know the sort of thing.'

'Mm,' Ratbat nodded. 'Sounds like the usual stuff civilisations get up to when they discover warp technology. Identify the nearest planet with intelligent life, and try to beat the living tar out of it.'

'That's about the size of it. Anyway, they're changing the facility that used to manufacture these weapons to a medical research centre. It's quite interesting - some of the things they used to use to butcher people by the thousands have very useful medical applications. Ksenia's having a nerdgasm over it as we speak. So the ceremony thing is to dedicate the facility to the peace process. It's gonna be pretty cool – you know, diplomats from both sides making nice at each other, Starfleet bigwigs wandering around like school-teachers. And heaps of free booze for us.'

'Yeah,' said Ratbat. 'Sounds pretty sweet, right up to the point where Graham and Nick get horribly pissed, kidnap a foreign dignitary, strip them naked and leave them in a fountain with a flag poking out of their butt. Dinna forget that official reception on Cardassia Prime.'

Suzy grinned. 'Did Gul Evek ever find out where they hid his clothes?'

'I doubt it.'

'Mm.'

Ratbat had a feeling that there was something Suzy wanted to tell her. 'Something up, Suz?'

She looked uncomfortable. 'Well, this could be a bit sensitive, you know... I know how the two of you were very close and all... look, her application has been green-lighted, and she's going to be joining us on the Compromise.'

'She who?'

'Colleen. Only I mean not Colleen, other Colleen.'

Ratbat nodded. 'You mean not dead Colleen.'

'Ratti!' Suzy squawked. 'How can you say that? She was your friend!'

'I know, Suz, I know.' Ratbat sighed. 'Look, dinna get me wrong. I'm very sorry Colleen's gone. But it's been over two years now. I'm always going to miss Colleen. And what happened to her...over there, I mean... well, that was just nasty. She's in a better place now (probably). We don't have to let go...but we can still move on.'

'You're not upset, though? About...not dead Colleen, I mean.'

'Och, well, this is the other part. Colleen - Lieutenant Colleen McKenzie Hick - was my friend. What we have joining us is someone who happens to look like very much like her, but that's really where it ends.'

Suzy noticed Ratbat shiver slightly. 'I thought so. It does worry you. Personally, I'd have thought that having a mirror-universe duplicate of one of your close friends who died in unpleasant circumstances suddenly barging onto the scene might feel a bit disconcerting.'

Ratbat leant across and looked at her. 'Och, come on. Her Dark Ladyship doesn't need to look like anyone to be disconcerting.'

Crew Senior Dianne Fortune put a hand over her stilled-then-suddenly-racing heart. A slight overreaction, given that it had just been a tap on her shoulder. 'Colleen,' she said. 'Hi.'

Di didn't really understand the circumstances that had brought Lady Colleen the Dark to this reality. Then, of course, she hadn't actually been there. She vaguely gathered that she had a past to atone for, which was fine. It was just that Lady Colleen had an...air about her that Di couldn't quite put her finger on. And it wasn't just the black make-up or the pale skin. Maybe it was that she never really seemed to make any sound. Or that you were never quite sure how she moved, you only knew that she must have because she wasn't where she was before. Or maybe it was her eyes, the pale very pale and the dark very dark, appearing to stare right through you at the same time they gave nothing back.

Thousands of teenaged goths would have killed to be even kind of like her.

Di found her voice again, and asked, 'What's up?'

i wanted to look in on the refit... Now, how did she do that? The softest and flattest voice you ever did hear, and also the eeriest. You'd swear she hadn't simply opened her mouth and made words come out. It just felt different.

'Nothing to see, really,' said Dianne, glad of a subject not directly concerned with Lady Colleen. She pointed over the railing, but the yard below them provided a better view of work bees and repair teams than it did of any particular starship project. 'The parts of the original Compromise that they salvaged from the other side have been all cleaned up. Because of some compatibility and development things, we're using those to supplement your old ship.' Dianne paused for a moment, and looked back to Colleen. Was she sensitive about the ship from her world? Though if she was, at least that meant she possessed any form of sensitivity whatsoever.

No. Big pale eyes just looked back, waiting for more.

'The hull's mostly done...so are the crew quarters: some bunties are moving everyone's stuff in right now. And then there's still a few things that we're gonna replace altogether anyway.'

some parts old and some parts new and some parts from a faraway place this ship will be like her crew in a way... Colleen clapped a hand onto Di's shoulder. Di shuddered.

what

'No offence...but you do know you creep the hell out of me, don't you?'

yes

'Right.'

'Next stop Kolbe, Lieutenant Welles,' Euan ordered.

'Aye, Captain,' she muttered back. Wade had an uncomfortable feeling that the captain was trying to pick her up, and it wasn't a nice feeling. In a way, she was sorry the Compromise crew had ever made it back from the parallel universe. Although being dragged out of their core universe by malevolent forces and having their ship destroyed and members of their crew killed wasn't exactly a nice thing, Wade sometimes wondered if it wasn't collective karma for all the shit they'd managed to get away with.

Still, she thought, there was only a small chance she'd be permanently assigned to the ship. True, their former conn officer Terri had thrown one of her customary tantrums and walked out on them, but from what Wade knew of the Compromise project, there were more than enough people around perfectly capable of piloting the ship should it prove necessary.

The runabout's security representative clambered forth into the cockpit. 'Eureka!' shrieked Ruth.

Euan's brown wrinkled. '"Give me a towel"?' he asked, confused.

'I think the Lieutenant means "I've got it",' Wade said.

'I think she's got it!' said Carmen.

'By George, I think she's got it!' added Ratbat.

'Fuck off the pair of you,' Ruth responded with dignity.

'What is it you've got, Ruthie?' Carmen asked. 'Although if it's a new and interesting disease that Graham got for you, I think you ought to keep it to yourself.'

'I have just finished the finest piece of literature ever known to humanity,' Ruth announced.

'You mean Days and Nights by Cathy Coote?' asked Ratbat.

'No, you idiot, I mean I finished writing the finest piece of literature ever known to humanity.' Ruth was displaying more patience than anyone could remember her ever having before.

'Well, don't keep us in suspenders, what is it?' Euan asked.

'Here.' She handed it to him. 'Take a look and tell me what you think.'

Euan looked at the title on the front. 'The Dummies' Guide to Survival in a Potentially Hostile Parallel Universe by Ruth K Crabb,' he read. 'Well, it's nice and specific, that's for sure. I'm sure there's a niche market out there somewhere.'

He flicked the book open to the frontispiece. '"Dedicated to Anthony, and to the memories of those of the starship Compromise who lost so much in her darkest hour."'

Ruth looked strangely demure. 'Yeah, well...'

He closed it. 'Nice, Ruth. Very nice.'

'...to usher in a new era of peace between our two worlds!' Tarklan declaimed

The ensuing applause had chief engineer Akhurst clutching his aching head.

'Doesn't peace usually go with quiet?' he groaned.

Carmen patted him gently on the shoulder. 'Poor Nikos – did you discover three hundred different varieties of stout last night?'

'I can't remember. I can't even remember how I got back to my room.'

'Your room?'

He sighed. 'It looked like my room when I woke up in it.'

'You stole all the doona! And you were snoring.'

'Sorry. Ow. Can I have a headectomy please?'

Carmen patted him again, then stopped because of the strange green colour he was going. 'Why don't you try the hair of the cow that bit you?'

'It wasn't a cow – it was a stampede of buffalo.'

'No, really.' Carmen pointed. 'There's a beer garden over there.'

'Great! I'll be back when the pink monkeys have gone away.'

'There's an awful lot of beer on this planet,' remarked Ratbat as Nick tottered away. 'It's like a whole planet that's Australia.'

Carmen, who had managed to get away with only a small hangover, grinned. 'It's all good.'

Admiral Page glared over his shoulder at the departing engineer. 'Where is he going?' he muttered to Admiral Walsh.

'Call of nature,' Steve muttered back.

Geoff watched. 'He's going to that beer garden!'

Steve shrugged. 'Yeah, well... beer's natural.'

Admiral Bishop, whose eyebrows had somehow managed to get shaved off at some point the previous evening, laughed. 'And you're surprised... why?'

'Shut up. We're meant to be being dignified.' Admiral Page straightened his uniform as Tarklan finished her address to the surrounding crowd and called for him to respond. 'At least some of us are making an effort.'

'Bite me,' muttered Steve.

'Poor old Geoffie,' said Ratbat, watching the Fleet Admiral assume the position at the lectern and begin a soliloquy in iambic pentameter on the nature of peace and trust. 'He always has to act like the Da.'

'I know this speech,' said Carmen. 'Isn't it the same one he trotted out when Xenex joined the Federation?'

'It's his favourite, you should know that,' said Euan.

'Oh, I like this bit,' said Ratbat. 'This is the bit where he says that instead of speaking from his prepared text, he's gonna speak from the heart. Always makes me a bit misty-eyed.'

'Bullshit,' replied Carmen pleasantly.

'Yeh, you're right. It's not the speech at all, I'm allergic to beer.'

'You so don't fit in on the Compromise,' said Suzy.

'Beer? Where?' said Graham, waking up.

'How did you manage to go to sleep with your eyes open?' Euan asked.

'My new contact lenses don't fit properly.'

'Ew.'

An usher stalked up to the group of Starfleet officers. 'Excuse me, if you don't shut up I'm going to have to ask you to leave.'

'Really?' said Suzy. 'OK, let's go.'

Vice-Admiral Bishop grabbed Suzy by the back of her uniform and yanked her back into her seat. 'Sit down! We're meant to be being dignified!'

'Since when?'

Steve looked back over his shoulder. 'Well, Geoff'll be pleased. Nick's on his way back.'

'Yeah... he'll be very pleased...' Mark mused.

'He's brought a bottle! Cool!' said Carmen.

The group of officers watched the engineer make his unsteady way down toward the speaker's platform.

'Do you think we should tell him he's going the wrong way?' asked Euan.

'If he finishes that bottle before he gets it back here, can we have him court-martialled?' asked Carmen.

Firing evil looks at Nick, Geoff finished his speech. 'I'd now like to invite to the platform Lord Molly Sugden of Rehb to accept the freedom of the city from Prime Minister Tarklan.'

Polite applause rippled through the surrounding crowd as a tall, thin man with grey hair on his antennae made his way to the platform.

'Thank you, Admiral Page, for that truly moving speech. It gives me great pleasure to be here today to officially mark the end of hostilities between our peoples. May the future be as bright as this day is, forever more.'

'I'll drink to that!' Nick raised his bottle to the somewhat surprised dignitary.

He was even more surprised when the bottle exploded in a burst of phaser energy. 'Huh?'

'Get down!' snapped Tarklan, tackling Lord Molly Sugden to the ground.

A second phaser bolt hit the podium. Armed security guards dashed out of their concealed positions and started to fire on the sniper's vantage point.

'What the fuck...?' Nick turned to where the shots were coming from. 'You fucker! You shot my vodka!'

'You'll never take me alive!' a voice screamed back.

'I don't want to take you alive,' Nick responded, standing with the remains of his bottle in the midst of a volley of phaser fire and loud screams from the assembled crowd. 'I want my booze back!'

The woman who had opened fire on the speaker was finally brought down when Ruth, having got bored with the somewhat poor marksmanship of the Kolban security guards, threw a small dagger at her.[3]

On the speaker's platform, Tarklan was helping Lord Molly Sugden to his feet.

'Well, Madam Prime Minister, you certainly don't mess about,' he said, rubbing his back. 'I think I've slipped a disc.'

'I really am terribly sorry, my Lord. I can't think how this could have happened.'

He held up a hand. 'No need for apologies, Madam Prime Minister, we Rehbans were as responsible for security as the Kolbans. I'm just grateful this gallant officer stepped into the fray, otherwise the sniper might have succeeded.' He gestured at Nick, who was ruefully licking the last few drops from inside the remains of the shattered bottle.

'You, sir! Lieutenant!' called Lord Molly Sugden.

'What do you want?' Nick responded. 'I've lost the best part of a bottle of Kolban vodka here!'

'Please, come up here to the platform.'

'Will you give me more booze?'

Tarklan shrugged. 'If you like.'

'Sweet!'

Fleet Admiral Page buried his head in his hands. 'Oh, God, why can't we send them back to the mirror universe?'

'So Nick's a hero now. Great. Now he's going to be obnoxious.'

'Oh, Euan, you're just jealous because he gets to go to Rehb and be showered with honours and given all kinds of privileges with the local chicks and all the free beer he can drink...' Graham trailed off. 'You're right, he's going to be unbearable.'

The Kournikova crew had been shuffled back to their ship in something between disgrace and quarantine after the aborted ceremony. Admiral Page had shouted something at them about throwing away keys, which was sort of pointless, as keys hadn't been used in locks for over two hundred years.

'I reckon it's completely unfair. He was pissed, for crying out loud! Doing stuff while you're pissed shouldn't count,' Euan pouted.

'Wow! That means that Euan's a virgin!' said Ratbat.

'It's not exactly as though you dived into the fray to rescue anybody from fire, Euie,' Graham remarked.

'I would have done if Nick hadn't done it first.'

'What a load of crap,' said Ratbat.

Lieutenant Welles, who had managed to avoid going to the ceremony, had been given the auspicious duty of piloting them to Rehb for yet another ceremony, this time to shower Nick with honours.

'Do you know anything about the identity of the sniper, or why she was there?' Wade asked, trying to get the bridge crew to talk about anything but each other's sex lives.

Suzy picked up a padd. 'Apparently she's claiming responsibility on behalf of the Kolera group. I guess getting the boss behind bars wasn't quite as effective as Tarklan thought.'

'Do they have any kind of agenda?' asked Carmen curiously.

'Yes, I believe she was female,' said Ratbat.

Suzy absentmindedly whacked Ratbat over the head with a small wooden mallet. 'They're after starting up the war again by the looks of things.'

'What on Rehb for?' asked Wade.

'It really isn't quite clear why this whole war thing started in the first place,' said Suzy. 'Rehb's hated Kolbe for as long as they can remember, and Kolbe have hated Rehb for the same amount of time. It's weird, but there you go.'

'So...' Wade said slowly. 'We're going into a situation between two antagonistic sides which have been at war for so long that neither side can remember why. There are political groups involved which believe that the war should still be going on and appear to be doing everything in their power to start up the fighting again. Am I right?'

'Right,' said Suzy.

'Captain, are we getting ourselves into something a bit potentially dangerous here?' Wade asked.

Euan looked blank for a second, then shrugged. 'We'll deal with it, if it is. Remember – we made it out of that parallel universe alive.'

'Well, strictly speaking, we didn't all make it out alive,' Ratbat chimed in. 'Some of us didn't even make it in, come to that.'

'Have I mentioned lately that it's now illegal to contradict me?'

'What are they doing to Nick, anyway?' Graham asked.

'Well, you know how important he is? They reckon that without him being there, Rehb and Kolbe would have been beating the living crap out of each other again for generations—'

'Suzy,' Euan interrupted.

'What?'

'If you don't know, just say so.'

Suzy pouted.

Di slid down the pole again. 'Why is it that every time I do that I feel like Batman?'

Sam IV poked his head over the edge of the gantry and looked up at her. 'Sorry, Di, did you say something?'

'Nothing important. How's it going down there?'

'Well,' he said, heaving himself up to her level. The platform they were standing on would become an interrogation area for Ruth by the time it was integrated into the ship. Ships. Whatever.[4] Sam tossed Dianne a padd. 'We've got most of engineering fitted properly, give or take a few things.'

'Like...?'

'You know – warp core, antimatter reaction chamber. It'll all be here by Tuesday.'

Di pulled off her hard-hat and scratched her head. 'Did I mention that this fit-out thing is driving me nuts?'

Sam shrugged. 'Well, you are deputy head of engineering. Anyway, she's a tough ship. The old girl will pull together,' he said, patting the top of a nearby console, the top of which fell off. He looked down at it. 'Is it supposed to do that?'

'Didn't I tell you not to touch things?'

'Well, yes, but from the context I didn't realise you meant ship parts,' he replied.

Dianne sighed. 'Anyway, how's the bridge coming?'

'Yep, great. Couldn't be better.' He looked slightly sheepish.

'Yes? And?'

'Nothing! It works perfectly. But we don't know where it is.'

'Uh-huh.' Di pulled a face. 'Did you give it to Eleanor to keep safe?'

'Well...'

'Right. Search her bedroom, it's bound to turn up.'

Sam raised an eyebrow at her. 'You spent way too long in a dimensionally transcendental phone box, you know?'

Di shook her head, and leaned over the gantry. The Compromise was being refitted in the largest space the Bunnies had available to them – the backyard of the Bowens' house in Canberra – and was looking fairly complete from the outside. Despite small problems, like the lack of warp core or bridge, Di was confident that it would be ready to launch on schedule. More or less.

She sighed again. 'Why does it have to be pink?'

'It's a nice bright colour,' said Sam. 'It shows up well at night.'

'Yeah, but we're going to be driving it in space. There's no day or night or anything up there.'

'Yeah. What's the problem?'

Dianne batted him across the back of the head. 'You know the rules – no using Ratbat logic unless you're Ratbat. And if you like driving through space in a ship that looks like a Mardi Gras reject, that's your business.'

'Right.' The platform finally got them to ground level, and Sam opened the back door of the Bowens' house. 'I think I've had enough of this hard work stuff. Want to go get a beer?'

'Done.'

On the surface, Ria, the capital city of Rehb, was a city of gleaming towers and corporate calmness. Its seemingly endless association with business and money-making had left it a strangely useless target in the generations-long war waged with Kolbe. While other cities involved in the manufacture of weapons had been repeatedly levelled, Ria had remained an oasis of peace in the war-torn world.

Below the blank-faced offices and business centres, however, was an unusual side to the city.

'Ria is still exactly the same place it always was,' remarked a shadowy figure.

The tunnels stretched for miles under the city. Once the home of a race which had destroyed itself in nuclear war, they were largely tumbled down and uninhabitable. Occasionally, an area or structure that had been better built had survived, and it was in an old public bath area that the group now met.

'I know,' another figure replied. 'Three hundred years of war and it's not a bit different.'

'It will be different when we get the Federation involved,' a third interjected. 'They won't be content to just sit back and try to destroy each other with genetic weapons. Cities will be razed from the face of the planet, the oceans will boil, and fire will rain down from the sky.'

There was a lengthy pause.

'You know,' remarked the first voice. 'That has got to be about the wankiest thing you've ever said.'

'Yes, well,' the third voice said, embarrassed. 'I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a bit carried away.'

'I should say so.'

'Sorry.'

'When's this fancy ceremony thing?' the second speaker asked.

The third cleared its invisible throat. 'The Starfleet people will be arriving this afternoon. The ceremony's tomorrow night.'

'Is everything prepared?' the first figure asked.

The third shadowy shape rubbed its antennae. 'For the most part. We really are remarkably fortunate to be given this opportunity. When the sniper failed at the dedication ceremony, we very nearly lost everything we've worked so hard for.'

'Yes, I realise that, but are we all prepared for this one?' the first speaker asked again. 'Honestly, it's a yes or no answer question. You're hedging.'

'Look I'm sorry! We've had hardly any notice for this, organising a crack shot sniper in two days flat is a tough gig! Especially when the main candidate for the job is currently sitting in a Kolban prison cell. And making it look like the Rehbans did it is even harder.'

'So you actually haven't got everything prepared,' said the first voice.

'Well... no.'

'So why are you sitting down here with us whinging about how the war hasn't achieved anything? Honestly, do I have to do everything myself around here?'

'Maybe if you ever did anything at all apart from yelling at me, it might help,' the third speaker retorted.

'Well excuse me!' the first voice sounded quite offended. 'All I want is to start a nice little war, make a shitload of money and retire to Risa. Is that so much to ask?'

'Well, on the subject of the war, we've still got that cargo ship full of biogenic weapons sitting around gathering dust,' the second voice piped up. 'Can you be so sure this assassination thing will work?'

The first speaker shrugged shadowy shoulders. 'Put yourself in Starfleet's position. If one of your officers was assassinated at a ceremony to honour his bravery, would you sit by and say "Oh, that's OK, we never liked him much anyway"? No, I wouldn't either.'

'They might, you know,' said the second voice. 'The Admiral certainly didn't seem to like him much at the ceremony.'

The first speaker shrugged, although the movement was hard to see. 'He's one of their officers. They are obliged to care when he gets shot. And they will retaliate.'

'Well,' said the second voice. 'So long as you're sure. Shall we have a beer now?'

Fleet Admiral Page looked out the window in resignation. The Kournikova had arrived at Rehb without too much going horribly wrong on the way, and the crew were now celebrating by playing frisbee with a great deal of enthusiasm and cheating.

'Admiral Page,' Lord Molly Sugden entered the room. 'I really can not understand your negative attitude toward these brave officers.'

Geoff shrugged. 'Well, my Lord, I can't say that I understand your attitude to them either. A Starfleet officer attends a ceremony in your honour whilst in a state of complete inebriation. Then, when an assassination attempt is made, he gets in the way and accidentally saves your life. There is no merit in such an act, and yet you're treating him like a hero!'

'But he is a hero, Admiral,' the lord smiled beatifically. 'On our planet we have considerable respect for acts of bravery, whether done sober or under the influence. And especially considering the enormous brewing industry on our planet, drunken bravery carries an even higher level of esteem. It's a more common kind of bravery, at any rate.'

Sir Geoff sighed. 'Well, my Lord, I do think you're making a big mistake, but it is not my place to criticise. If you desire, we'll go ahead with this plan to honour a drunk.'

'Absolutely!' said Lord Molly Sugden, slapping Geoff on the back. 'After all, who of us can honestly say they've never done something stupid while drunk?'

'Another bloody brewery planet?' said Ratbat incredulously. 'Weren't we just here a few days ago?'

Graham plonked a large jug, brimful with amber fluid, on the table. 'Yup. We were. And now we're here again. Where's the problem?'

'I can't stand beer,' Ratbat grumbled. 'What I feel like right now is a clit-licker.'

There was a moment of horrified silence as everyone stared, frozen still, at Ratbat.

'It's a cocktail,' she explained. 'It's a shot of butterscotch schnapps with Bailey's.'

The assembled crew visibly relaxed.

'And it's a lovely name, too – just rolls off the tongue.'

There was a chorus of groaning.

'Butterscotch schnapps and Bailey's? Isn't that usually called a cock-sucking cowboy?' asked Euan, before turning red and trying to pretend he hadn't said anything.

'I thought it was a butter-my-buns,' said Carmen.

'I have a theory that all these cocktails are actually invented when someone says "hey – let's invent a drink called the Flying Fuck or the Felch-Monkey" and then they try to decide what's going to go in them,' Suzy said.

'You could easily be right, Suz. Pass the jug of slow comfortable screw up against a wall,' Ratbat said.

'My point exactly.'

'What's supposed to be so good about sex on a beach that they name a cocktail after it, anyway?' asked Graham, pouring a large glass of beer from the jug. 'You have sex on the beach, you end up with sand in all kinds of embarrassing places – and it really chafes!'

'I think the implication is that after enough of the drinks you think that sex on the beach is a good idea,' Carmen said.

'And I personally don't think that it's possible to have a slow comfortable screw up against a wall. Because, you know, there's coat hooks and door handles and all kinds of uncomfortable things—'

'Suzy doesn't talk any more,' said Ratbat.

'I still think the world's greatest cocktail is sitting right in front of me,' Nick said happily, taking the beer jug and sticking a straw in it.

'Yeah, but even if it's a beer cocktail you've still got to call it something suggestive and hard to pronounce,' Carmen said.

'How about we call it the "I'll be pissing all night after twelve of these"?' Ratbat suggested.

'It's nice to see that your time on Vulcan has given you a more meditative, logical attitude to the world,' Euan remarked sarcastically.

'Logical be buggered.'

'Is it true that Vulcans only have sex every seven years?' Suzy asked.

'Well, they're still several centuries in front of Ratti,' said Euan, who was still a bit irked about Ratbat using Ratbat logic to convince him that he had to marry his brother.[5]

'They must have a fairly good rate of conception, though,' said Suzy. 'If they're only doing it every seven years, that's not a hell of a lot of sex.'

'Pon farr's not just about bonking, it's like a red mist comes down in front of them and they just have to or they die,' Ratbat explained.

'Cool! Sounds like they have tequila on Vulcan!' said Graham.

'Hang on – they die if they don't have sex?' asked Euan. 'That'd be a great pick-up line. "You couldn't let me die now, could you?" I think it'd work.'

Carmen pulled a face. 'It doesn't.'

There was a long pause.

'I've heard.'

There was a rather longer pause.

'More beer?' asked Nick, picking up the now-empty jug.

'Yeah. Send it to Vulcan, it might help them have sex more often,' Graham said.

'Why do they die if they don't, anyway? Is it one of those biological imperative thingies?' Carmen asked.

'Probably,' said Suzy. 'I mean, if it wasn't, who'd have sex with a Vulcan?'

'Suzy!' said Ratbat. 'That's a vicious racial slur!'

'Hey! I'm talking from personal experience here!'

'Really? Who?'

Suzy shrugged. 'Remember that little ensign exchange we had with the Crazy Horse a few years back? We got Vatris and they got Ensign Mayes.'

'Did we ever get him back?' asked Euan.

'No, I don't think so,' Ratbat said with a shrug. 'Something to do with us not liking him...'

'Anyway, I took Vatris down to 10-Foreplay and taught her about bourbon shooters. One thing led to another, and... well, there wasn't much more to it than that. I was glad when Niki got back, that's for sure.'

'If they don't actually have proper sex, but just... I don't know, go shagging in the holodeck or something. Does that count?' Euan asked.

'Doesn't actually happen,' Ratbat said.

'What? Never?'

'Are you seriously trying to tell me that the people who brought us the Vulcan Love Slave of Vulcan Love Slave fame have never knocked off something in a holodeck?' Graham asked incredulously.

'Nope. If it's pon farr time they have the real McCoy or nothing,' Ratbat said.

'And they die if they don't get it.'

'Right.'

Euan asked curiously. 'Is there a high mortality rate?'

Ratbat shrugged. 'Can be. If they're on a long haul mission on the other side of the galaxy and everyone else on the ship thinks they're an arsehole.'

'Wow...' Euan thought about this for a while. 'Someone needs to teach them how to masturbate.'

'Well, I couldn't,' Ratbat said airily.

'?'

'I'm asexual. I don't even know how.'

Suzy sighed. 'Did you listen to none of that talk I gave you?'

'I tried. I just couldn't think past the pet names for things.'

Sitting by herself at one end of the table, Wade sighed. It was only another few days, and she'd be back on the Excalibur, where everything was... well, not that much different, but at least less overt.

Observing the somewhat subdued lieutenant, Ratbat nudged Suzy. 'Young Wade doesn't look too impressed.'

Suzy looked thoughtful. 'Maybe I should give her my talk.'

It was twenty extremely inebriated hours later...

'Man, I feel sick,' groaned Euan.

'Did you get nineteen twenty-thirds drunk last night Euan?' Ratbat asked.

'No, I got completely and utterly poofaced last night.'

'You're learning.'

'With such expert teachers as Nick and Graham, do you think I wouldn't?'

'Where's the rest of your dress uniform?' Carmen had her head buried in Euan's footlocker. 'You know if you show up to these things without pants people get cross.'

'You know from personal experience, Carms?' Ratbat asked.

'Hell, why do you think I'm only a lieutenant commander? I've been in Starfleet for thirteen fucking years!' Carmen yanked a pair of black trousers out of the chest. 'Here they are.'

'No, they're my joke pants,' Euan said, head buried in his hands.

'What do you mean?' Carmen turned them around. 'Oh, I see – "This is my bum" written on the bum. Very clever.'

'It was one of Graham's off days. Besides, it's helpful sometimes.'

'Like...?'

'When you're completely and utterly poofaced,' Ratbat put in.

'Well, I can't find them. Why don't you wear your black tracksuit pants and hope nobody notices?' Carmen suggested.

'Oh dear. I just remembered...'

'What's that then?' asked Ratbat.

'My dress uniform pants... they are my joke pants.'

'How the hell did that happen?'

'I was completely and utterly poofaced.'

'There's a pattern forming here.'

'Look, go and borrow Nick's spare pair, he's about your size,' Carmen said, throwing the joke pants back into the chest.

'About my size...' Euan muttered, wandering to the door. 'If he was taller, thinner, less Nick-sized...'

Ratbat and Carmen sat on Euan's bed. 'Do you think he knows he's wandering around the ship with no pants on?' asked Carmen.

'Do you think anybody's gonna care?'

Lieutenant Welles slammed the door shut and leaned on it, breathing heavily. That was something you definitely didn't see on the Excalibur! No, Captain Calhoun never wandered around with no pants on, that was for absolutely sure![6]

Well, here we go again,' muttered Ruth. 'I just hope this one goes a bit quicker than the last, I've got an evisceration assessment to run next week and I want to prepare some extra slides.'

'You know, that is gross on so many levels,' Suzy said.

'All of them, in fact,' Ratbat added.

In front of and above them, on the stage they all faced, Nick and Fleet Admiral Page were seated to the left of a lectern, while Lord Molly Sugden and Prime Minister Tarklan sat together to the right. Refreshingly, they didn't at all seem tense with each other, and even seemed to be chatting amicably. Ruth might have thought that this meant someone was up to something, but she wasn't so naïve as to believe in conspiracy theories.

The hubbub of the crowd and the slight conversation of those before them fell, and the Master of Ceremonies called Tarklan forth to speak.

'My friends,' Tarklan said, the public address echoing her voice all around. 'Earlier this week, a day of joy could have been turned into a day of tragedy. Were it not for the actions of a brave visitor...' She went on to describe some local great heroic traditions, as well as an account of Nick's bravery that somehow left out the staggering and the slurred speech.

'Didn't anyone ever teach her to open with a joke?' muttered Suzy.

Euan would have grunted slightly in response, but the effects of the night before left specific sounds to still be something of a challenge. How was it he came to drink so these days? Something about being around Graham. Or Nick. Or Carmen. Or...well, anyone he knew, really.

Trying to keep from dozing off, he started looking around the auditorium. Not much to see, really. A lot of people sitting probably as bored as the Kournikova crew were. Some dignitaries watching eagerly. Nick, apparently hoping that if he sat up straight enough, no-one would notice that his eyes were a kind of reddish-grey. And a man in a balcony, balancing something on the rail.

Balancing what?

Something black, and definitely designed to have its business end pointed at something or someone. The man with it was clearly looking into some kind of sight, training his view on...

...Nick!

Euan reacted immediately. 'Gun!' he called out.

Prime Minister Tarklan stopped her speech and looked at him, somewhat taken aback.

'I mean it! GUN!' he yelled.

The audience suddenly exploded into a burst of panic, people running from side to side, bumping into things and screaming a lot. Nobody seemed to actually know where the gun was.

'OVER THERE!' He pointed wildly to the balcony, knocking over the woman next to him...

...who dropped a rifle, swore, and threw a punch at him.

'Shit! Another one!' Euan ducked the punch and swung back at her. He missed completely, but threw himself off balance so well that he collapsed into her, knocking her to the ground and sprawling on top of her.

'Get off me, you great wanker!' she gasped at him, winded by the fall.

'Nobody shoots my crewman and gets away with it!' He prepared to use the Vulcan Death Grip on her.[7]

Twenty two screaming Rehbans trampled over the top of them.

When the stampede had finished, he lifted his head groggily.

'Mum? Mum, is that you?'

'Fuck off!' The sniper punched him on the jaw, used her legs to lever him off her, and dashed away into the hubbub that was the Rehban crowd.

Euan wanted to chase her, but his body had other ideas, and he collapsed back into the gap between the rows of seats.

Twenty minutes later, he was picked up out of the gap by a concerned medical officer and furious admiral.

'Captain Bowen!' roared Geoff.

Euan groggily opened his eyes. 'Hullo Geoffie. How's it going?'

'How long did you work in theatre for, Euie?' asked Graham.

'Uh?'

'It was definitely a few hundred years, wasn't it?'

'I guess...' Euan managed. 'What's the...'

'HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW WHAT A BLOODY TELEVISION CAMERA LOOKS LIKE???!!!' Geoff screamed, his face purple, eyes bulging out of his head like an Andorian.

'Huh? Television camera...?' Euan looked up to the balcony, where the mysterious black object was now clearly visible as having a lens and focus function on the end.

'That's the local news service, you dickhead,' Graham said.

'Oh...' he said. 'But there was another one! With an actual gun this time! She was right here!'

'Captain Bowen, will you kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP!' Geoff shouted, all traces of his composure completely vanished. 'You have nearly caused an interplanetary incident! You'll be lucky if you don't get court-martialled, and now you're making up stupid stories just to save your own neck! I am NOT HAPPY!'

With that, Admiral Page threw the protesting captain to the ground and stormed off in search of a beer.

'But there was another sniper...' Euan said as Graham helped him to his feet.

'Yeah, Euie, I'm sure there was. A nice lady sniper with lovely breasts.'

'Well, actually...'

'Look, nobody's really angry with you. Geoff's just pissed because Starfleet looks undignified. The Rehban people all reckon it was a great joke, and the peace thing looks stronger than ever. You don't have to make shit up to cover your arse.'

Euan sighed and picked his way past the overturned seating and scuffed carpet. Some days, it was hard to be a hero.

Under Ria, a very unhappy group met.

'A complete disaster,' the first voice said.

'Remember those biogenic weapons? Well we've still got them, and there's nobody around to use them,' the second voice said accusingly.

The third figure sighed. 'Maybe this Kolbe-Rehb thing wasn't such a good idea in the first place.'

'Oh, you reckon? After it was a complete cock-up you decide it wasn't such a good idea?'

The first figure stood up. 'Well I for one am sick to death of these bloody planets. There are probably worlds out there where there's a huge untapped market for our weapons. I say we cut our losses here and get gone.'

'Too true,' the second figure said. 'And the beer here is, frankly, piss.'

'What about that sniper they've got in custody? She might talk and drop us in it,' the third voice said.

'Oh, what's she going to say? "Oh, I know I said I was part of the Kolera group but that was a big fat lie, I'm actually working for a bunch of Kolban dissidents who wanted to make lots of money, no, please don't put me in a padded room". Like anyone's going to pay any attention.' The first figure made a dismissive gesture.

'The leaving the area immediately express is now boarding at gate three,' the second speaker said impatiently. 'Will all those passengers holding up the flight please stop gas-bagging and come along?'

'You're right. Let's go somewhere where there's less beer and more warrior culture,' said the third voice.

'Good.'

The echoing footfalls made their way out of the cave, leaving the darkness empty and silent.

In the huge area that was the main body of the spacedock, a starship hung. A refitted Pre-Menstrual class, pink and gleaming. To the rear, four warp nacelles, glowing a soft blue. They forked out from a large saucer section, inscribed in bold black letters with the legend, NC-2604-Z - U.S.S. COMPROMISE.

Two people were standing on this saucer section, looking at the ship below them.

'It's not often we get to see the Compromise from this angle,' said Leila.

Euan shook his head. 'The vacuum and the lack of gravity does tend to be off-putting.'

Leila laughed. 'Except for that time, you remember, when we went back and time and fought the Borg? And we had to walk on the saucer section to stop them sticking something on the deflector.'

Euan stared at her, deadpan. 'You weren't there.'

'Excuse me! Where do you get off saying that?'

'It was a movie.'

'Oh. But you know what they say, Euie, that all stories really have a grain of truth in them...'

'By which you mean that you saw the movie.'

'You're mean. I don't think you should be captain anymore.' Leila had liked the old days, when a simple strike with a coffee mug and a Terry Pratchett quote was enough to remove him from command.

There was the sound of someone tapping the hull with a cuban heel. 'This really is nicely done. The ship pulled back together rather nicely.'

'What about the inside?'

'The decorators are just finishing up and moving out now.'

'Yeah.' Leila nodded. 'You can hardly tell where their ship ends and ours begins. Well, except for the parts that are completely new, then it's a bit obvious.'

'Except that it's all our ship now,' called a fourth voice. The three turned to see that Graham and Ruth had found an access port of their own and were coming up to take in the view themselves.

'They do say possession is nine-tenths of the law,'[8] added Ruth. 'We stole it, and now we possess it.'

Graham sniffed. 'I have to admit, our new assistant head of engineering really has done well fluffing it into shape.'

'Ah, Nick's not the only with an assistant now,' grinned Leila.

Ruth frowned. 'He wasn't before; I've had one for seven years.'

'Yeah, what a lovely story. But now I'm getting an assistant counsellor. That should lighten my workload, I think...'

'Lightening one's workload,' Ruth explained slowly, 'is for people who work.'

'Communist.'

'While we're on the subject of new crewmembers,' said Euan. 'I think some of you already know our new senior conn officer.'

'Well, yeah,' said Ratbat, clearly puzzled.

'Lieutenant Wade Kathleen Welles,' Euan announced.

'Hang about,' said Ratbat. 'I actually compared the test results like you wanted after Terri pissed off, and it really looks like Sam should be the you fancy Welles, don't you?'

'It's mutual,' said Euan.

'Is it bollocks.'

'No, it was so cute, you should have seen the way her eye twitched when I told her she could transfer to our ship.'

The others dutifully said nothing.[9]

'You realise something?' Ratbat said suddenly.

'What's that?' said Graham.

'The five of us are the only remaining members of the original senior staff. From way back on the Compromise-Y.'

Graham thought about it. There had been some comings and goings over the years... 'You're right,' he said at last.

'Wow,' said Leila, thinking about coffee. 'What is it that we did to keep at it so long?'

'There's only one way to find out,' Ruth said finally, 'and that's to keep doing it.'

There was a sudden jolt, followed by a low rumble.

'Here's our chance!' called Graham. 'Someone just warmed up the engines!'

As the first slow signs of movement took the starship, the five of them clambered back down the hatch.

Against the wash of stars hung a nebula. Vast and gleaming, with one red giant, shining like the madness of gods.

Slowly, with great dignity, a shocking pink starship glided into space. Its majestic size dwarfed smaller ships which bustled around it, assisting the mighty creature as it launched itself into the darkness.

'Shotgun!' yelled Carmen.

'Too late, Carms, I already called it,' said Ratbat.

'That's not fair, I'm the ops officer, and the ops officer always gets shotgun!'

'Yeah, and I outrank you, so go sit on the floor.'

'Fuck off.'

'Make me.'

Carmen decided to conclude the argument by sitting in the ops seat – on top of Ratbat – and running her fingers over the console.

'Captain, I'd like to report that all ships systems are operational and functioning within normal parameters,' she announced.

'Right,' said Euan. 'Let's see what's out there.'

'Squeak,' said Ratbat.

A little over four light years away, an elderly farmer from a Bajoran colony near Alpha Centauri was sitting in his Volvo Starwagon calmly waiting for the traffic lights to change. He had been driving this stretch of space for over twenty years, and knew that it would probably only take him about half an hour at warp three to get home to where his wife would be making her specialty - hasparat vindaloo.

The green light flickered on, and the farmer carefully put the starship in gear.

Forty-seven seconds later he managed to climb back into the pilot's seat of his now-upturned craft. In the distance, he saw the receding shape of the Starfleet ship, shocking pink in colour, which had run him off the road. Like all space-users in the area of space around sector 001, he knew very well the identity of the only Starfleet vessel that was shocking pink.

'Oh no,' he said. 'Not them again.'

At this point in the ship's log of the USS Compromise, there is an announcement. Maybe even a proclamation - certainly the captain who made it might like to think so. Even with the interruptions and corrections.

'Space...maybe not the final frontier, but one of the biggest. These are the voyages - and stopovers - of the starship Compromise. Its open-ended assignment: to hope we come across strange new worlds to explore, to seek out new life and new civilisations that won't try to kill us, assimilate us or otherwise negatively affect our well-being, to boldly go where no-one has run from before!'

A pause.

'Graham, please take your hand off my backside.'

Commander Daria 'Ratbat' Sigma

Vice-Admiral Mark 'Mark' Bishop