Harry Potter x Stargate Atlantis x Star Trek Universe

Synopsis: Upon arrival in what Harry Suspected was his home dimension, he finds ships are traveling toward Earth. Curious, he investigate yet another world, and reality, not his own while attempting to stabilize his magical core, and benefit his burgeoning empire. This is a sequel to Harry Potter Humanity's Last Hope.

Setting: En Media Res onboard the CityShip Atlantis, in the Alternate Universe designated AU02.

Characters: Harry Potter, Stargate, Star Trek Universe, O/C.

Disclaimer: No profit is sought, or accepted, in the publication of this fanfiction. It is purely being written and shared for enjoyment; no remunerations are accepted or expected by the author. All right, privileges, and copyrights belong to their respective holders/owners. I freely admit to having been on a Harry Potter x Stargate kick the last few months, and will try to give special thanks to authors who inspired me on my bio page. Until then, however, if you see something similar too another author of this genre, please point it out to me and I will check my notes as to whether or not I could have accidentally modeled my characters, names, places, events after another.

Please enjoy and review with your comments, critiques.

Chapter 02: Domestic Politics

***Three Months Post Arrival***

Hadrian's Keep, and the surrounding systems had been mapped exhaustively, and each had at least one outpost and the beginnings of a colony on the primary world of each system, by the Novans. Their mining operations had produced the backbone of a functional galactic social satellite network, and they'd been able to establish an "Imperial Capital" City outside of Atlantis at the direction of Harry and the various government officials after several days of deliberations.

A new city, as grand as Atlantis, was being constructed several kilometers inland near one of the natural bays of the continent Atlantis had moored herself near.

The once Human Forms of Atlantis, and the Novan Fleet, had been exposed to the news that they were slowly evolving into true life forms, and the news of Harry's illness was slowly being disseminated.

The reactions of the people were varied, if somewhat muted to the norms of how humans may have received the news, but the predominant sentiment was excitement. Beings which from their beginning new they were artificial representations of flesh and blood creatures with no ties to mortality, were suddenly faced with the greatest challenge which ever presented any sentient creature, and which drew the ancient Alterrans to the stars and heights of divinity: chasing after the meaning of life.

There were actually several thousand individuals who'd founded a cult dedicated to the worship and exhortation of Harry. When he discovered the temple and golden statues, as well as the elaborate rituals imposed to seek his favor and divine blessing for the adherents, he'd quietly, and expeditiously dedicated a majority of his time planning and building a personal yacht he could use to escape all the foolishness he seemed to be finding himself present for.

A grand parliament had been built, and it was due to be dedicated in the next week. It contained a massive House of Civilians, as the deliberative chamber for the elected representatives of the colony worlds being established, and an appointed upper chamber of Senior Military Officers.

Harry had thus far approved of the appointment of twelve three star admirals, and a dozen other senior ranked or highly decorated individuals to what he had dubbed the House of Heroes.

An entirely too gaudy, and ridiculously massive, palace was being built for Harry's use and occupancy and the leading contender for the name was, "The Imperial Palace of the Ages," which sat on a massive estate nestled on a precipice in the piedmont and the mountains which overlooked the Bay just outside the main city.

The Palace was being built to combine elements of Harry's wizarding and English heritage, with the utilitarian elegance of the Alterrans, with just a few hints of Imperial Roman styling and design elements to round out the unique architectural design which the Novans seemed to be adapting as their own.

Harry currently sat at his desk in Atlantis looking over the design specifications for the various Courts that were to be built. In his discussions with his Cabinet, he'd discussed his hesitation to allow the Parliament to occupy too many of the hats of government and had opted instead to see the development of an independent judiciary, modeled on the American Judicial System he'd read about in primary school when he was learning about Her Majesty's Government and how different countries and cultures ran their countries.

The plans he currently had before him called for the creation of an "Imperial Palace of Justice," which was modeled somewhat after the Temple of Zeus, yet again though it incorporated elements of the new Novan style of architecture. This particular palace was to hold the Supreme Court, and a trifurcated Court of Appeals split into three separate divisions for Civil, Criminal, and Equity.

The design for the District Court(s) had already been discussed and approved, and for each Novan city there would be one Court with a Presiding District Judge, and room for more to be added as the population grew.

This is utter garbage, Harry thought as he examined the details for the artist's rendering of the decorations from the plans. There are more beautiful and practical applications of artwork aside from trying to incorporate my image into almost everything; what they did in that monstrosity I'm supposed to live in was bad enough.

Harry sat the pad on his desk, and quickly made opened a channel to the individual responsible for the interior design of the building.

"This is Potter," Harry began, "and if I've said it once I've said it a dozen times to you Lin'ara...take me out of the designs. Draw from whatever pantheons of Earth or cultures you want, create an amalgamation of Justice, Truth, or whatever, but please stop plastering my face every ten feet or in every damn government building under construction. I'm neither a god nor deserving of such public display." Contrary to what some think, Harry thought to himself.

"But Sir," Lin'ara began, "you're the Founder of our Empire and the source of our life. We are your creation, and your visage means more to the people than you realize; I know we've had these discussions many times before, but you're simply what's popular right now."

Harry groaned at that admission.

"In time," she continued, "it if the people wish to change the look of our buildings and the interior designs, they have been integrated in such a way as they can be changed easily without damaging the structural integrity of the buildings."

"The buildings are almost complete Sir, and any changes we make now will delay their opening and operation timelines, which would likely displease my supervisors…not to mention your Cabinet," Lin'ara finished.

Growling half-heartedly in annoyance, Harry deactivated the com channel and called for an aid to clear the plans from his desk.

As the aid entered, he exited and made his way to his personal berth; nothing seemed to relax his nerves like a few hours out to sea. Testing out the flight capabilities of his personal yacht were merely a secondary benefit to his intentions of course.

Onboard the HIHSS Marauder, later the same day.

Harry sat on the observation deck at the rear of the ship, sipping a juice made from a fruit native to this planet; it was an area which would be inaccessible in an hour's time once the space trials of his new toy were underway properly.

From the hidden speakers located in the lounging area, Harry was alerted to the bridge crew sending him a communication.

"Sir, sorry to disturb you at this time, but we are receiving a priority message from a StarFleet Frequency. It's a weak signal that we've had to boost, but it is broadcasting the agreed upon coded phrase for Ship in Distress Sir. The message was forwarded to you directly by Central Command and the Defense Ministry," the captain explained.

"Very well, please patch it through to my study. I will be there momentarily."

Inside Harry's Study aboard the Marauder

"Your Highness, I am Captain Phelps of the Federation Starship Montana. We were on a deep space mission to map several unexplored regions of space within sector 007 of the Alpha Quadrant, but we stumbled upon the bounds of a warp-capable race which were quite hostile to our presence. It's taken us nearly 6 months to reach this deep into space, and it would take us just as long to return to Federation territory."

Harry furrowed his brow.

"What do you need captain," Harry asked as he sat his drink onto his desk.

"Sir, respectfully we are asking for your assistance in getting home. We have suffered major damage to our warp core in a protracted engagement with hostile forces and have only managed to find a brief reprieve in a nebula which masks our warp core signature. We have suffered extensive damage and we've only just managed to stabilize ourselves but we are in no position to leave the safety of the nebula. To make the repairs we need would require our landing on a planet with sufficient mineral resources and developing an extensive mining/refining operation we simply have neither the skill nor ability to undertake."

The Captain raised a cloth to wipe the accumulating sweat from his brow before continuing.

"If you are willing to authorize it Sir, we'd like to request that you allow StarFleet personnel and materials passage onboard one of your ships to bring us much needed supplies and materials to fix my ship, or that you send a towing vessel to bring us in. My understanding of your technology is that you can travel infinitely faster than our current level of technology allows, and that the alliance between my Government and yourself allows for emergency aid and humanitarian missions."

Harry sighed and sat behind his desk, activating it's built in computer terminal and he drew forth a map of Sector 007 which he overlaid with the political map of that section he'd had his people compile with the information the Social Satellites provided.

"Damn," Harry said aloud. "Captain it looks like you're either abutting or well inside the territory of a rather xenophobic and hostile race known as Romulans. They are not a friendly group at all, similar in ideology to the Klingons, but more refined in their methods. They are quite the annoyance."

Harry accessed the SatNet and pulled up a real time display of the nebula where the Montana was hiding, and after a few quick scans of the nebula found the ship so he would be able to learn the ships dimensions for rescue purposes.

"Captain, if my intelligence is correct the Montana is roughly 300 meters from stem to stern, and nearly 230 meters at its widest…correct?"

"You're correct Sir," the Captain Phelps replied.

"I am going to send the ISS Zeplin to your aid. She's a cargo freighter that is more than capable of storing your entire ship in her hull several times over. Along with the Zeplin I am assigning the ISS Bozier Battle Group to be your escort. As you are still inside hostile territory, this will be a stealth mission, and you will discover the benefits of cloaking technology first hand. Are your life support systems functional?"

"Sir all our major systems are currently in flux, and my Chief of Engineering is currently in a medically induced coma in sickbay along with most of my senior officers who were on duty when the initial attacks took place. My Junior officers are not miracle workers, but we're supposedly stable as far as life support is concerned."

Harry thought a few moments over what he knew of their technology and knowing it would only take his ships a few hours at cruising speeds to reach them, decided to take a cautious approach and issue orders to the Bozier Group to proceed with caution even though the SatNet indicated that there were no Romulan vessels, cloaked or otherwise, within a days travel of the Montana.

Rushing in with guns blazing was something Harry had abandoned in his older age. He'd learned and changed much from his days as a young Gryffindor fresh out of Hogwarts.

"Captain Phelps, I will be transmitting the orders to the Bozier Group and to the Zeplin to assist in your rescue. I will also be placing you in touch with my Defense Minister or his designate to monitor the progress of this mission. I find it strange though that this request has not come from StarFleet Command. How did you manage to contact us directly?"

The Captain gave a sigh and again wiped his brow before he answered.

"Our communications subsystems have been completely destroyed, and our ability to access Federation Subspace Frequencies have been completely blocked by the loss of those subsystems; however, I have a brilliant crew. One of my ensigns cobbled together a few class one probes which had their coms arrays modified to send out a one time, emergency broadcast through subspace, which we was able to link to my ready room. I made the decision to contact your people as you were the best chance of my people making it home alive. Even if StarFleet sent a rescue mission it would take them 6 months to reach us, and even if they managed to find us, there's no guarantee they wouldn't be attacked by the same hostile forces and risk starting a war."

The Captain took a sip of water on his desk before he continued.

"As I saw my options Sir, it was either risk war or risk a suicide run out of Romulan," the Captain said the name with some unease at the pronunciation, "controlled space; neither were options I felt particularly inclined to follow. I weighted the risks associated with this breach of diplomatic etiquette and frankly Sir, my crew's lives matter more than any inconvenience my directly contacting you may have caused either of our governments."

There was a resolute tone in the Captains voice which Harry had to respect.

"I understand Captain, and assure you that I understand the actions you've taken. They are well received, and no negative consequences will be filed against you by my government. I've been reviewing the file prepared by my Defense Ministry as to your ship and its crew. We would not have introduced ourselves to the Federation had we not expected to become good neighbors."

Harry took the final sip of his juice.

"You should expect the rescue party within 12 hours. Your ship will be housed within the Zeplin and your personnel will be welcomed to disembark and receive treatment in her medical wing. Captain Nia'va is in charge of the Zeplin and you will be welcomed to contact StarFleet from a secured suite as her guest. In the meantime, I'd suggest avoiding that region of space once you return to your mission Captain."

Captain Phelps noticeably sagged in relief before he gave an emotional thanks to Harry and terminated his transmission.

"Sir," came the voice of an aid, "the captain has asked that all personnel secure themselves and prepare for initial atmospheric flight testing, and has invited you to join him on the bridge for pre-flight prep. He asked I remind you that Space trials will begin within the next 10 minutes."

"Thank you," Harry replied, "I'll be on the bridge shortly."

Secure Meeting Site Section 31; Earth.

In a dark room, which seemed to mirror the blackness of the void of space, sat a circular table where a column of light shown to down form a low hanging fixture, illuminating only the center apart from the tops of the table itself which gave off a soft white light for the occupants to utilize on their own.

"As you all know," began a voice which spread evenly across the room, "we have finally been able to regain custody of Singh and his people. We've assigned a dedicated team on Delta Site to begin the process of regaining the Eugenics technology and process which lead to Singh's creation. I've authorized test trials to create a breed of loyal soldiers with their healing and enhanced strength, who will be raised in isolation outside of the boarders of the Federation. I believe we will succeed where others failed if we only seek to enhance sections of the individual instead of the whole. If Singh proved anything, it is that even now we are not quite capable of augmenting the mind. I seek only the will and approval of this counsel to continue in my efforts."

One section of the table turned golden as another speaker was recognized.

"I reiterate my earlier objections that we are missing a vital opportunity here that Marcus has dropped into our hands! We must use this opportunity to curb the more idealistic elements of the Federation and return StarFleet to a true military organization, and ensure that Humanity remains at the pinnacle of creation as we were meant to be! We should implement Operation Terra Nova immediately."

Another section of the table turned golden before a distinctly American, and Southern Drawl, answered the previous speaker.

"I'd be inclined to agree with you, had Marcus not completely jumped the damn shark! Had he stuck with the god damn plan we'd have been at war with the Klingons by now, and in control of Starfleet Command on route to a coup for the control of the Civilian Government. I was rather looking forward to reclaiming North America from Federation control and being a founding father in the Terran Star Empire. The Klingon generals will only have so much time they can buy before the investigation ramps up and their assistance in Marcus' plot to destroy Praxis is revealed. I cannot reiterate enough that if they are revealed and executed, and we do enter into war with the Klingons again, we will have no assurances of a cease fire once we are in control of the Federation. So, while I respect our colleague's eagerness for the implementation of Terra Nova, with Marcus' actions we've drawn an entirely unknown entity onto the game board in the form of these Novans."

A puff of cigar smoke wafted from the shadows which obscured the speaker before he continued.

"I've never seen any technology like they have. It's centuries beyond the comprehension of our top scientists, and none of the Vulcans I've gathered intelligence from can understand it either. The metals they use in their ships are completely unidentifiable, and our computers are completely inadequate to performing any type of analysis without some kind of sample to examine on a molecular level."

More smoke billowed from the shadows in a rapid pace in a show of the speaker's frustrations.

"We can't let these Novans interfere any longer, or else we risk decades of hard work and hard fought ground to be in the positions we are and poised to make a final victory for all Terrans! We have to discourage the deepening of ties between the Federation and these outsiders."

The table once again glowed white as no one held the floor to speak.

After a few moments of deliberative silence, another speaker, this time unmistakably female, took the floor.

"Our agents have secured the Bleth'dak, and we have made great strides in creating not only a Terran Cloak, but also have made great strides in created transphasic cloaking. I believe that Terra Nova could be implemented but only once we have created a suitable number of ships capable of cloaking. Our engineers at Beta Site have already created a prototype to detect cloaked Klingon Ships based on the specifications and internal data sent to us by General Ma'lketh, and based on the data we've received Beta Team believes they have created the systems necessary to fire while cloaked."

There was some chatter around the table at this revelation before the speaker continued.

"With initial field tests proving a positive response to the ship prototype I've commissioned, I'm also happy to report that the covert operative cloak and weaponry have proved just as promising."

Another section of the table lit up allowing another individual to speak.

"You've managed to successfully miniaturize a cloak? What's the impact radius?"

Before the speaker could respond there were five distortions in the center of the gathering, as the table was not one solid piece of furniture, and there were suddenly five armed individual with weapons raised pointing at five different members of the assembly.

"I believe," the female voice continued, "that should answer your questions quite well. Gentlemen, you may transport back to my transport."

The five individuals stood down and transported out of the room as was planned.

"If I may continue," she began anew, "these cloaks do not show up on standard tricorder scans, or internal scans for standard StarFleet security systems. Field tests have proven that they do not show up on any of any sensor sweeps that we can monitor. Olympus Ascending is ready for execution. We have several disruptors and blades from the House of Dur'Oth supplied by General Mal'keth; he's the high ranking Counselor from the Klingon High Command that is the major power for the current Chancellor. There are currently 15 high level admirals and 26 subordinate officers which are priority targets for elimination, and roughly 10 members of the civilian government that would need to be eradicated simultaneous to the officers."

"I currently have 50 well trained individuals loyal to our cause who have been properly vetted and screened, which have been trained in the use of this stealth technology. You have all seen a demonstration and how effective it is. I move that this counsel immediately initiate Operation Olympus Ascending."

The table returned to having the soft white light as the golden glow of the speaker faded.

General discussion could be heard as individuals weighed the pros and cons of the motion.

After several moments of intense silence and heavy billows of smoke coming from his area, the man with the cigar took the floor once more.

"I second the Motion, and move for the immediate execution of Operation Terra Nova once Olympus Ascending has been completed."

A vote was called, and passed unanimously.

The Federation didn't know it yet, but it was now facing Civil War…one it may lose before it even knew it had fight for its very survival.

Humanity's Next Frontier-Humanity's Next Frontier-Humanity's Next Frontier

StarFleet Command, Temporary Office of Ambassador James T. Kirk

"Damn it La Roué I am sick of this damn posting! All the Novans seem to care about are trade deals and secure routes of passage for intersteller commerce. I've brought up defense pacts and proposals that they join the Federation until I'm blue in the fucking face. I'm done with your people putting me up to this shit. I've been in this post far longer than I was promised, and I'm a hairs breadth away from telling that smug Novan Ambassador to go suck Klingon Cock and handing in my resignation. Either promote Paris to this post, or be prepared to fill it yourself. These people are even more induriating that Vulcans and I'm done," Ambassador Kirk ranted to his superior officer Admiral Quentin La Roué.

"Flattering though I'm sure your tone is intended to be Kirk," the dulcet tones of the Admiral began in reply, "might I remind you that these people may be the key to securing the means to achieve ultimate peace in this Quadrant, and perhaps the Galaxy? This isn't some desolate outpost you've been sent to in disgrace, this is the preeminent posting for Federation Diplomacy and a chance to usher in a peace treaty that will see a technological exchange that may catapult the Federation into the next millennium; so suck it up you ungrateful little shit, and do your damn job like the StarFleet Officer you claim to be. I expect you to act and behave at all times with poise, dignity, and respect to our new friends, and while you occupy this office. Anything less that exemplary performance and I'll see you disappearing into a black hole somewhere, being re-educated with the blunt end of an Aderran torture stick until you learn your place. La Roué out."

With that the transmission ended, just as James threw the vase from his desk with a howl of rage at the screen, sending glass shards from both the vase and the terminal screen all over his office. His Chief of Staff came charging into the office, took one look at the state of things, and sent for a maintenance and cleaning crew.

"Ambassador, must you and always have such violent reactions to Admiral La Roué," came the quiet voice of the Commander Spock. Upon being told of his involuntary "promotion" and it meaning he lost his commission as Captain of the Enterprise, to Sulu of all people, Kirk had demanded he staff his office with his choice of crewmen from the Enterprise, Spock chief among them.

"Don't get me started oh ye with pointe ears. I'm in no mood," James replied as he slumped into his seat.

"That much Ambassador is quite obvious. Perhaps I should call for your lunch. You do tend to get testy when you've not eaten, and you do have a conference call with Minister Fa'leh. Do you need the file on the mining treaty we seek to establish with them," Spock asked with his usual tone void of any emotion.

"What point is there? Where is the logic in continuing this fallacy with these people," James asked with as much sarcasm as he could directed at Commander Spock.

"I do not understand your query Ambassador," Spock replied.

"I mean Mr. Spock, that we've not even been able to get a location for their home-world or the bounds of their empire after months of negotiations; what makes La Roué, and Starfleet Command, think that they can get these people to agree to a mineral rights treaty?" Jim sighed as he fetched himself a glass of water.

"I get that Starfleet is very interested in getting a chance to examine some of the minerals that these people have created their hulls from, and I get that it securing this type of trade with them could lead to wonderful chances at espionage or covert exploration. What I don't get is why Command thinks these people are going to complicit in Starfleet's machinations…," Jim trailed off in his thoughts.

"Ambassador, I do not presume to think that I would know the intent of Starfleet Command, nor would I be so bold as to presume your instincts are off base as you've described them; but with the clarity of thought that logical discipline brings, and upon examination of the facts as they appear to us today, it is a natural conclusion that the Novan people are simply very isolationist in nature. To pressure them for StarCharts or the bounds of their empire could be a great faux pas that may endanger their relations with us, and as Dr. Brenovich has informed you on numerous occasions and staff meetings past, a piecemeal approach is better than having all avenues of forward momentum foreclosed." Spock sat down at his customary chair near the window beside Jim's desk so he could overlook the bustling city below.

"Ambassador, I believe that the Novans would allow our ships and members to map the region with their sensors, but simply do not wish to give us vital information with our peoples barely knowing one another."

"Be that as it may Spock, they did step into a quagmire with the Marcus situation, and though they've been relatively quiet I believe they're intentionally holding out on us. They forced me into this god forsaken post, and there has to be a reason they wanted me…and not just so they could tell me no every time I asked for something on behalf of the Federation." James slammed his hand onto the desk in frustration. "I don't like being played Spock, and I want my damn life back."

"Jim, you know as well as I do that the Enterprise isn't forever lost to you. You're going to have the chance to return to your command once Lt. Paris is finally able to take over this post. To use Doctor McCoy's language, you're just a seat filler here Jim."

"I'd normally agree with you Spock, but it's been months. I'm sick of this. I miss my ship, my crew…my family. I need to be back out there among the stars."

Jim sat in silent contemplation for a few minutes before his brow suddenly relaxed, and a true smile blossomed on his face.

"Spock, get La Roué back on the con please," a spark flew from the damaged panel behind him, "in the conference room please. I need to speak with him urgently."

Spock's only reply was to quick an eyebrow and rise to fulfill this task.

-Humanity's Next Frontier-Humanity's Next Frontier-Humanity's Next Frontier

StarFleet Command, Conference Room of Ambassador James T. Kirk

"Kirk you'd better have a damn good apology ready to have interrupted me right now; especially after the tantrum you threw," Admiral La Roué began.

"Oh Quentin, I do have something very important to say, and I'm sorry for my outburst earlier, but I've come into some clarity of thought recently and I thought I'd share it with you," Jim replied.

"And what pray tell have you discovered Mr. Kirk," came the Admiral's reply.

"You're going to ensure my immediate promotion to Admiral, and assign the Enterprise to my command where I will execute my diplomatic duties from instead of here at Starfleet Command," James said with a shit eating grin. From his seat beside Jim, Spock merely turned his head to study James and incline his eyebrow at the course of events.

"You've lost what little sense you had left Kirk. You're no where near worthy of a promotion, let alone deserving of one," the admiral began before James cut him off.

"Then have fun trying to establish relations with these Novans without me. I either get the promotion and control of my ship back, or I hereby tender my resignation to StarFleet effective immediately."

"Ambassador, perhaps this is not the most prudent course of action to take," began Spock before he was waived off by Jim.

"Listen to your Vulcan friend Son, this is not a laughing matter," the Admiral replied as his face slowly regained a calmer expression.

"I'm sorry Admiral, but dealing with these people, and putting up with your bullshit or that from command, simply isn't worth my time unless my demands are met. I was forcibly removed from the posting I loved and forced into this by powers beyond my control, and as a loyal member of Starfleet I complied with my orders for a long as humanly possible. I am unwilling to suffer under these conditions any longer. Either grant my demands or see how well the Novans react to finding out you've gotten rid of their pet human.

La Roué slowly began to purple before calming himself, and after fidgeting with his hands for a few moments he finally looked up and met Kirk's gaze dead on.

"I'm not normally one to be trifled with, and were it not for your history of heroism in service of the Federation I would be much less selective about the language to convey this message; but your demands are unreasonable, I will not entertain them, nor do I appreciate your attempts to strong arm me. I expect your letter to me within the hour. Please vacate the office and grounds once you have sent it. StarFleet will hate to see such a promising young man go, but you've clearly stated your grievance and intentions. La Roué out," and with that the screen went dark.

"May I ask, just what in the Hell you were thinking Jim," came the inquisitive tone of Spock.

With a smile on his face, and a spring in his step, James rose to leave. He had two messages to send after all. One to La Roué and the other to Ambassador Fa'leh informing him that Starfleet had failed to follow through on their commitments to him, so he was forced to resign.

Yes, thought Jim, it is an interesting time to be alive. Let La Roué reap what he's sewn.

As Spock sat in contemplation, he was somewhat surprised to hear laughter coming from Jim's former office.

This cannot be good, he thought.

***To Be Continued***

Location of Hadrian's Keep: I've said in the first chapter that it was located within or near 5 light years of earth. I am hereby officially amending that to it being approximately 7 light years from Earth, and placing Hadrian's Keep, the planet, in Galactic Quadrant Q-3 as found on this map: www. /images/AST030. Jpg (take out the spaces).

Based on the calculations I've come to then, Quo'nos is within 5 light years of Earth…this would explain how quickly the Enterprise was able to travel from there, back to the Sol system in such a (relatively) short time, meaning the Federation Flagship has the ability to go faster than Warp 5. However, I could be wrong about the math, and don't claim this story is scientifically, or Trek Cannon, accurate.

I will bend the rules and established parameters to make this story work, so please don't think this is being written as some sort of fan piece devoted to cannon.

Here's the second take at Humanity's Next Frontier. I hope that it's providing at least an entertaining plot, and if someone were to want to take a few of my ideas and run with them, you are welcome to…just please let me know so I can follow along.

Because of my work schedule I think I'm going to start publishing chapters when each reaches approximately 5,000 words. I know most of the complaints I've had have come from the wait time and length of the chapters.

I hope that this will be a slower story that I can develop more, but to do that I would appreciate all of the feedback you're willing to give dear reader.

I'd also appreciate it if you'd be willing to recommend these stories to a friend for their review and critique.

As always, this is something I do in my spare time, and I can't assure regularly paced updates.

Thank you for reading.

Chapter Date: November 18, 2015

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