Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters. The original characters in this story do belong to me.

A/N: This is my first Star Trek fanfic, so all critiques/comments/suggestions are welcome.

A/N: I am resurrecting this story after many, many years. I deleted the original and am reposting, giving it a fresh start from the very beginning.

I've always wanted to tell this story that has been playing out in my head for a long time now. After getting back into watching The Next Generation and reviewing this story last night, I decided to pick it back up again with the intent of making it better. I hope it will be enjoyable as I know I will enjoy writing it.

A/N: I imagine this story taking place around the Season 6 timeframe.

Lost and Troubled Souls

Chapter 1

Captain's Log: Stardate:

The Enterprise is currently on route to the Belax System, an uncharted sector of space deep within the outer reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, in response to an emergency distress beacon received. Currently, the beacon has only been identified as Starfleet. Origin or ship designation currently unknown.

"Bridge to Captain Picard,"

Captain Jean-Luc Picard sighed as he paused his entry. Seated in his ready room, Picard leaned back and tapped his comm badge, "Picard here. Go ahead, Number One."

Commander William T. Riker's voice blew through the unit. Riker, Picard's first officer, always presented himself with an air of authority and respect. His voice was no different now, "Sir, We're coming within visual range of the planet that beacon is emanating from."

Picard was already out of his seat. His ready room was just off of the Enterprise's main bridge. He was stepping through the automatic doors just seconds after Riker had

finished speaking. Picard's eyes went to the main viewscreen that filled the entire front panel of the bridge. A white planet was rapidly coming closer into view.

Riker was already standing, moving from the command chair. The Captain remained standing. "Report, Number One."

"Sir, working to pinpoint the source of the beacon now," Riker puffed his chest out a little and tilted his head.

"What can we tell about this beacon?" Picard asked to no one in particular.

Data swiveled in his chair. The android kept one hand on his console as he spoke, "Sir, we are running the signal through the Enterprise's computer, however from what is being transmitted it appears to be an old style request for assistance message. It continues to repeat on a loop every ninety point two four seconds. It has not changed since we first received it."

"Location on the planet?" Was Picard's next question.

"Running those calculations now, Sir."

Picard assimilated the information. He asked the next question, "Can you determine who is sending the message?"

"That is what is somewhat perplexing, Captain," Data started.

"Explain, Mister Data," Riker prodded.

"The message appears to be an old Starfleet message. One that has not been used in over six decades."

"How is that possible?" Picard rubbed his chin. "From all accounts Starfleet has never explored this region."

"Unknown, Captain," Data answered evenly.

"Could be a lost ship," Riker threw in. "Thrown off course by some anomaly? Little is still known about this region."

"Or something that was scavenged by pirates," Lieutenant Worf, standing on the raised dais behind the command chairs added, "there have been reports of piracy in these sectors in the past. It was also a contested region of space during the wars between the Federation and the Klingon Empire."

"The war has been over for many years, Mister Worf. And no pirates have been reported near this sector for over fifteen years," Data countered. A beep from his console turned Data's attention back to his controls. "Sir, the computer has pinpointed the beacon's location."

"Life signs, Mister Data?" Riker asked, jaw set square.

"I am picking up life signs of unknown origins, Sir. There appears to be a strange weather formation forming near the beacon's location. The interference is making it difficult to decipher the readings."

Picard turned to his second in command, "Number One, prepare an away team. Be ready to depart the moment we are within transporter range. If there's a crew stranded down on this planet somewhere, we need to be ready to react. I don't need to remind you about the Prime Directive in regards to native inhabitants."

"Yes, Sir," Riker nodded.

"Be careful, Will," Picard threw in.

"Captain, the Enterprise will be within range in seven minutes, thirty-three seconds." Data stated.

"Very good," Picard gave a curt nod. His gaze wandered back to the view screen. He felt a faint shiver run along his spine. Years in space and he still reacted with a tinge of anticipation and even apprehension whenever the Enterprise and her crew embarked into the unknown.

Picard took a seat, adjusting the bottom of his command tunic as he did, "You have your orders."

Riker tilted his head to nod slightly then looked up to Worf, "Mister Worf, you're with me."

Picard watched two of his finest officers depart. Godspeed, Will.

With a frown, Riker tapped his combadge, "Riker to Captain Picard,"

He'd had only departed the bridge minutes before. Calling his team to transporter room three. Now the plans would have to change.

Riker sighed inwardly before he spoke, "Captain, the transporter room is reporting that due to atmospheric conditions the use of the transporters is currently unsafe. However, we can take a shuttlecraft to the surface. The sooner we get down there and assess the situation, the sooner we can report back our findings."

Riker swore he could hear the Captain stroking his chin, "Agreed, Number One."

Riker spoke as he exited the transporter room and made his way to the turbolift that would taken him and the away party to the shuttlebay. "Mister Data, send the coordinates to the Columbus."

"Coordinates sent," Data chirped through the combadge only moments after receiving the command.

Next Riker signaled the away team, rerouting them to the main shuttlebay.

When Riker stepped into the bay, the rest of his away team was already present. One of Worf's security officers, Ensign Rhodes, stood near the shuttlecraft Columbus. He was speaking with the away team's medic, Lieutenant Sandy. Doctor Crusher had requested to stay aboard the ship in the event that they did find survivors in need of immediate care and was preparing the Enterprise's sickbay. Sandy, a young human male with short brown hair would serve in Crusher's place. Counselor Deanna Troi hovered near the craft. Riker's brow furrowed. He had not requested her to accompany the team.

"Counselor," Riker spoke through pursed lips when he reached her.

"Commander, I'd like to accompany the team," Troi stated with a firmness that was difficult for Riker to dismiss.

"We don't know the conditions down there," Will responded in an effort to quell the Counselor's request. As the away team leader he could give the order for her to stay behind, but he'd found Troi's determination once her mind was set a difficult thing to combat.

"Exactly," Troi nodded. Riker led her a few steps away as she continued to speak, "We do not know the conditions and if there are survivors they could be in a troublesome and even strenuous state. I can assist with keeping the situation calm. Not to mention, if we do come across native life forms, I can assist."

Riker couldn't argue with her logic. He kept his focus on her eyes as he pressed his lips together and nodded. "Alright."

"Thank you, Will," Troi replied, a soft smile emerging on her lips. Before Will could say more, she turned and joined the rest of the team.

They were treading precariously, skittering the edges of the Prime Directive by going down to a planet without ascertaining the alien life and its technological levels. If Troi insisted that her unique empathic abilities could aid the team in the event they did come across aliens and needed to determine the intentions of those aliens, then Riker could use her on the team. He and Troi were no longer a couple, yet he still hated seeing her rushing into potential harm. But Troi was a Starfleet Officer and could handle herself.

Riker joined the team. Ensign Rhodes immediately turned his attention to the Commander. "Sir, Mister Data reported that temperatures on the surface could be as low as -6 degrees Celsius," Rhodes gestured toward the crates of cold weather gear next to the group. "I suggest we bundle up."

Riker frowned, he was never a fan of the cold. He started to don the cold weather clothing, as did the rest of the team, This keeps getting better and better.

But he kept the thought to himself and simply mused, "Makes me wonder what's really going on down there."

"If someone did crash land on the planet, let's hope they were able to find some shelter." Troi remarked sympathetically.

"Right," Riker agreed.

Once the team was dressed, Riker made sure to conduct one final check of his team's equipment, including tricorders, phasers, and Sandy's medical bag. Once all was in order the team loaded into the shuttle and prepared for departure.

"The storm is interfering with our navigational instruments," Riker grumbled.

"Shuttlecraft...land mass...indicate…" The Enterprise's transmission came in garbled then suddenly cut off all together.

Riker fumed. "Why do these things never go as planned?"

A jolt rocked the small craft, sending the passengers hurling to the side. "Damage report," Riker barked.

Worf tapped the control panel, "A massive lightning strike appears to have hit us, Sir."

"How did it penetrate our shields?"

"I don't know," Worf growled, "but shields are down to fifteen percent and the right nacelle is malfunctioning."

"Reroute internal power," Riker ordered. Then asked, "How far to the landing coordinates?"

"Two minutes," Worf grumbled. "However, navigation just went off line."

"I guess we'll have to land visually." Riker choked out a laugh.

"Sir?" Worf turned his head, studying Riker with a look of confusion.

"Won't be the first time, Lieutenant." Then to everyone he said, "Hang on, it's about to get bumpy."

"Bumpier than it already is," Troi smirked.

Riker took over manual control of the craft. Using visual acuity he peered out the windows, looking for an ideal spot to set the damaged ship down. Another lightning strike flared off to the left and the shuttle lurched to the side.

"Shields down to five percent," Worf grumbled, "inertial dampers are off-line. Life support failing,"

"Reroute all non-essentials to life support." Riker ordered. He hoped to have the ship down on solid ground soon, especially now with life support systems damaged. His main objective was getting the craft, and his team, down safely. Figuring out the extent of the damage could come later.

As the craft descended below the eye of the storm, Riker could see the snow capped mountain ranges jutting out all around their landing zone. If he had a moment to appreciate the scenery, he would consider it a beautiful sight, but that too would have to wait.

"Look over there," Riker jerked his chin at the windows, "that shoreline appears the best place to land."

Riker kept his eyes on the approaching ground. A large body of water extended out beyond the mountains and as the craft drew nearer the mountains began to give way to rolling hills and massive forests. Everything was covered in snow. The lake itself wasn't frozen, but the water appeared black, with large white waves breaking the surface. Even as the storm disappeared, the sky remained grey and bleak.

"Hang on." Riker hollered. Maneuvering the craft with the aid of the controls was difficult enough, but doing so manually and using only his eyes to land truly tested Riker's skills. When the craft contacted with the ground, the jolt of the impact was bone-jarring, but welcome. They'd made it to the surface.

Riker took a moment to exhale before prying his hands away from the controls. "Everyone okay?"

The rest of the away team mumbled their responses and Riker looked over at Worf, the Klingon staring back at the Commander with a look of awe. "That was quite a landing, Commander."

"Nothing to it, Mister Worf." Riker cajoled, slapping a hand on the security officer's shoulder for good measure. He heard Troi snicker from her seat behind him.

"Cabin depressurized," Rhodes reported. "Tricorder readings report outside air at normal levels of oxygen. Safe for breathing."

"The beacon?" Riker asked.

Rhodes studied his tricorder, "based on our current position, we have a bit further to go. It appears the storm damage threw us off course. Tricorder readouts indicate we came down on the wrong side of that mountain range."

"Great," Riker rolled his eyes. Tapping his comm unit, he tried to raise the Enterprise, "Away Team to Enterprise,"

Nothing. Not even static.

He tried again, "Riker to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise."

Still no response.

With a huff, Riker remained calm, "Looks like the storm is still interfering. Let's get moving. We can try to raise the ship the higher up we go."

As the away team filtered out of the ship, Riker caught a look from Troi. "What is it? Are you sensing something?"

Troi shook her head, "No, but I just had one of those feelings."

Riker cocked his head. He'd learned to trust Troi's "feelings" over the years. "What feelings?"

"Like something is about to happen."

"I don't like bad omens, Deanna." Riker said while motioning for her to exit.

"Neither do I, Will, but that doesn't mean they aren't present."

Riker set his jaw and decided it was best to not respond. At this point, whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He just needed to ensure the team was prepared for any eventualities.

Outside the shuttlecraft, Riker shudder. The temperature was just as Data had reported, if not colder. Strong winds gusted off the lake in their direction. Scanning their surroundings, Riker felt a sense of quiet dread wash over him. Probably just a response from Troi's statement.

The grayness of the planet's surface was made all the more dreadful by the silence. Only the wind and the lapping off the waves filled his ears. Looking down he saw the shoreline was made up of small, black pebbles, worn flat by erosion. Snow blanketed the landscape and Riker could not tell just how deep it was. Looking up, he saw the grey sky, the storm they'd passed thru gone from his vision, but Riker knew it was still there, interfering with the ability to communicate back to the ship. The wind kicked up large gusts of snow, spreading the powdery white substance through the air and onto the away team. Exhaling a thick cloud of breath, Riker huffed and blew into his hands. Even through the thick cold weather clothing, he was already getting chilled.

"Reminds me of the Breen home world," He smirked to no one in particular.

Surveying their immediate location, Riker saw two possible routes to the beacon. Off to his left was a row of trees that ran along the shore. To their front, opposite the lake, was the rolling hills that ran out and up towards the mountain range. The route to the right was blocked by a high outcropping of cliffs and rocks.

"Either the trees or the hills," Riker was open to suggestions.

Stepping around the craft's nose, he took a moment to peer out towards the lake. The dark body of water looked uninvitingly cold and he wondered it any sea creatures lived beneath the dark surface. Images of gigantic squids or vicious white whales filled his mind.

More Captain Picard's liking than mine.

"Sir, I still cannot raise the Enterprise," Rhodes reported, drawing Riker's thoughts back to the task at hand.

"We'll keep trying as we move. And move we need to or else we'll freeze right here."

"It's a wonder anyone could survive out in this cold for long," Sandy remarked. Riker gave the young man a sideways glance. No matter how old the beacon signal was, they had to remain hopeful that there were survivors, or else who would have turned the beacon on?

"Commander," Worf hissed.

Riker looked towards the Klingon and saw the head of security staring at the hills. Worf was tense and his hand hovered over the phaser attached to his belt. Riker allowed his gaze to follow his friend's and soon he saw the same thing that Worf saw.

"Everyone around me," Riker breathed through gritted teeth. "Do not draw your weapons, but be prepared."

Riker felt his team assemble around him as he kept his eyes locked squarely on the hills. A group of around a dozen beings stood atop one of the nearby hills, watching the away team.

The group was silhouetted against the grey backdrop of the desolate sky, making identification impossible at this distance.

"Looks like we found the natives," Rhodes grumbled.

"Deanna?" Riker asked from the side of his mouth.

"Nothing, I can't sense anything."

Riker frowned. Not good. Keeping his eyes on the new arrivals, he studied the beings. None moved. Three sat atop large, furry four legged beasts, similar, yet not, to horses. One of the riders held some sort of pole, a banner attached to the top. The tattered garment flapped in the wind, creating an eerie whipping sound in the otherwise silent landscape. It made Riker shudder.

The closest rider kicked its heels against its beast and the entourage descended the hill. As they drew near, Riker was able to see that the creatures were roughly humanoid shaped. The ones not on the mounts walked on two legs attached to massive trunk like bodies. Their arms were as thick as their legs. What parts of their skin was exposed appeared to be a deep purplish color with streaks of white, but Riker couldn't tell if the streaks were part of their flesh of perhaps camouflage markings. Large heads sat atop their massive necks and shoulders. The creatures had two hoodless eyes, holes for nasal cavities and thin lips with canine like teeth jutting out from both their upper and lower mandibles. Some were covered in thick, coarse hair while others appeared to be completely hairless. The closer the creatures came Riker saw that each had unique facial features and their bodies differed in size, just like most beings he'd encountered during his years with Starfleet. They wore different assortments of clothing, from thick furs to rough spun trousers and tunics. What Riker had at first thought to be armor in reality appeared to be the creatures' actual hide, exposed under their clothing in certain places. He also saw that the creatures were armed with an assortment of crude, medieval style weapons, battle axes, swords, and spears. Two carried weapons similar to longbows. He couldn't determine the sex of the creatures.

"Sir…" Rhodes breathed.

"At ease, Ensign," Riker said, but he couldn't blame the security man for being a bit nervous.

The group reached the bottom of the hill and the lead creature dismounted its horse. Larger than the rest of its companions, the beast stood at least two heads taller than any of the others. Naked from the waist up, it wore only a thick fur clock about its shoulders, leaving its massive chest and arms exposed. It did not appear to be fazed by the cold in the slightest. It pulled a large, fearsome looking battle axe from a sheath on its back. Riker felt his entire team tense, but the creature did not raise the weapon to strike.

"My name is Commander William Riker from Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets. We are looking for our lost comrades. We mean you no ill will or harm."

The creature cocked its head and Riker assumed that the universal translator was trying to work its magic, but the creatures had yet to talk.

With two hands the leader raised its battle axe over its head. Its muscles rippled in response. Riker watched as it sucked in a deep breath through its wicked maw then grunt out a slew of random noises.

Transfixed on the interaction, Riker didn't see Rhodes react until it was too late. The Ensign drew his phaser and pointed it at the axe wielding alien.

"Ensign, No!" Riker shouted.

Rhodes depressed the firing button on his weapon, but nothing happened. He did it again. Still nothing.

The lack of an assault didn't seem to matter to the new arrivals. The leader lowered its axe then made another noise.

Riker heard the swoosh of displaced air before he saw the attack. Rhodes yelped in surprise as a projectile flew through the air, slicing into the side of the security officer's neck. The weapon, a crude spear like device, had been hurled with such force that the impact threw the Ensign back into the side of the shuttlecraft and the spear banged off of the hull, leaving a large gash in the side.

Riker's eyes went wide as Rhodes collapsed. The man was dead before he hit the ground, his head nearly severed from his body.

"Fiends!" Worf growled.

"Worf, stand down!" Riker shouted. When Worf reached for his own phaser, Riker grabbed the Klingon's arm, "I said stand down!"

Worf growled and Riker fought to restrain the enraged Klingon. The creatures were advancing with a swiftness that they had yet to display. Worf attempted to fire, but his phaser also neglected to discharge.

At that moment the aliens were atop the remaining away team. The battle axe wielding leader slammed its shoulder into Riker, dropping the Commander to his knees as the breath was pushed from his lungs.

Riker raised his hands, "Please, this is a misunderstanding."

The creature stopped, cocking its head once more. It then lowered its axe and jutted the end of the blade under Riker's chin. Riker attempted to show no fear. It was a struggle. It was then that Riker detected the stench that wafted off of their assailants. A foul odor that turned up his nose and forced him choke down a gag. His discomfort must have been plain as day on his face as the creature that assaulted him bent its head down and snarled in Riker's face. Riker tried not to flinch when a reddish, green ooze dribbled down the leader's maw, sizzling as it smacked against Riker's coat.

The leader started barking in its strange language and Riker watched as the aliens descended on his team, grabbing them, stripping them of their equipment and weapons, to include their comm badges and phasers. When they're items were all taken away and secured in some sort of leather case given to one of the other mounted aliens, Riker was hauled to his feet.

Rough hands worked to force the away team to place their arms behind their backs. They're wrists were bound. Riker saw that the aliens paid special attention to Worf, as if they knew the Klingon was the biggest threat.

"Just do as they want," Riker ordered the remainder of his team just moments before a hood was placed over his head, cutting off his sight.

"Any news from the away team," Picard attempted to remain patient. They'd lost contact with Riker during the Columbus' descend and had yet to reestablish contact.

"No, Sir," Data replied, "continuing to hail."

"Keep at it, Mister Data. Have a secondary team on standby in case we need to send another craft."

"Yes, Sir," Data inputted the orders.

"This isn't the first time we've had communication issues," Picard spoke. He hoped by speaking the words aloud it would not only alleviate any internal concerns the bridge crew may have been experiencing, but his own as well. It was never good when communication was lost. "How much longer till the storm passes?"

It is difficult to say with any surety, Captain," Data replied.

"Best guess, Mister Data?"

Data shook his head a little. Picard caught it and smirked. Data made the calculations, "Sixteen hours."

Not a number Picard liked. "I want continuous updates on both the storm and our attempts to reestablish contact. We can't wait sixteen hours, but I do not want to send another team down there and risk the same issues. For all we know, the team is fine and once the storm clears we'll hear from Commander Riker."

"Yes, Sir," Data stated. "Also, standard protocol would guide Commander Riker to continue to make attempts to communicate. He would lead his team to higher ground or somewhere away from the storm in order to raise us."

"Agreed," Picard knew protocol, but it was good to hear it from another of his officers. It helped loosen the knot in his gut that had formed.

Just a communication snafu. I'm sure Riker and the others are fine. They know how to handle themselves.

General Andrej Prazak opened his eyes, the brisk morning air sending a familiar breeze across his bare chest as he woke. Looking to his right, he found his companion still asleep. Her head resting on his shoulder. Her long, luscious curls spread out across the pillows. Carefully, as not to disturb her, Prazak untangled his arms from around his lover to sit on the edge of the bed. Stretching his arms over his head, he worked the soreness from his muscles. Rising, he grabbed a pair of black trousers, pulled them on, then padded over to the open balcony of his sleeping chamber. The morning was cold, but Prazak no longer felt the chill; it had been too long. Peering out over the capital, Andrej Prazak frowned. As the grey morning ascended, he could see the citizens down below, specs moving through the snow covered streets going about their daily routines. Atop the wall his soldiers manned their posts. It would be another fine day and hopefully one without any attacks. However, Prazak knew better than to hope. For some unknown reason his gaze was drawn towards the sky.

After a few moments, he turned from the balcony and stepped back into his suite.

He watched the woman stir. Resting a knee on the edge of the bed, he hovered over her as her eyes fluttered open. Her name was Sa and she was one of the most beautiful women Andrej had ever seen. Yet, she was a noblewoman and nothing more would come of their relationship. At times that left Prazak morose. At other times he simply did not care.

He knew she didn't either.

"The storm has passed," Prazak ran a finger along Sa's cheek. The smoothness of her skin enticed him. "The sun should come out today."

Prazak waited. He had never cared for the nobility of Sardis, yet his position forced him to have to interact with them on occasion. And the previous night had been one of those occasions when he'd found himself summoned to court to report on recent enemy activity.

Of course he could always deny their advances, since he knew that all they truly wanted from him was a night in his bed. Yet he rarely did. He'd convinced himself that after all he had done for these people, he could at least reap some of the benefits, even if the nobility still turned their noses up at him and his soldiers behind their backs.

"Which means you have to leave, doesn't it?" Sa pushed herself up a little, the plush fur blankets on Prazak's bed falling away from her body. Prazak found his eyes wandering up and down her body. "You just returned a week ago, General."

"Duty," Prazak pushed his nose to her neck. She responded with a inhaled moan. "But perhaps it can wait a while longer."

Climbing closer, Prazak positioned himself over Sa. She moaned and giggled as the stubble across his jaw tickled her. Prazak grinned.

The intercom buzzed.

Prazak pressed his eyes shut. Not now.

"Ignore it," Sa purred and ran her hands under his arms and over his muscled back. She tried to pull him down.

"I can't," Prazak replied.

"You can," Sa countered.

Prazak pulled back and stood. "I can't. You know that."

The intercom buzzed again. He knew who it was. Only one person would interrupt him this early in the morning and only then if something dire had occurred. He glanced towards the entrance to the bedroom suite, the living area opened up beyond. Then he glanced back at the woman in his bed. She did not appear happy.

"Get dressed. You cannot stay here." Prazak told her then left, shutting the door behind him.

Striding through his quarters, Prazak expertly navigated around the furniture without the aid of lighting. He'd been here long enough to know every step. Reaching the entrance, he flipped the switch for the lights at the same time he activated the door.

It parted in the middle. Once open, the man on the other side stepped in, accompanied by a large feline. The cat was a wild animal. A predator similar in size and appearance to the white spotted snow leopards of Earth, but while wild, the beast had a special connection to Prazak.

"Zoja was out and about," the newcomer stated, "she followed me here."

"She enjoys hunting at night during the storms," Prazak nodded as the cat, Zoja, pushed up on its hind legs and planted her front paws on his bare chest. Prazak rubbed her rounded, fuzzy ears. Seeming pleased to be back with her master, Zoja returned to all four paws then padded over to a rug in front of a large, unlit fireplace. She was asleep within seconds.

"What brings you here this early, Herschel?" Prazak asked as they moved back into the room. "Don't tell me it was just to accompany Zoja."

General Herschel was almost as tall as Prazak. His body was basically all muscle, just like Prazak, but where Prazak was larger and therefore bulkier, Herschel was leaner. He sported light blonde hair and emerald eyes. He had no facial hair. Prazak on the other hand had darker hair, at times almost black. And thicker than Herschel's mop. Prazak's eyes were of a crystal blue that shone almost white when hit with light from certain directions. He sported scruffy facial hair, not a full beard, and his jaw line was solid and tight. While his body bore a number of battle scars and old wounds, he only had one scar upon his face, near in right eye. Overall, both men were what one would consider extremely handsome. But it was Prazak's rugged looks, along with his reputation, that seemed to attract his female companions.

"I wish that's all it was," Herschel replied grimly. He handed a rectangular pad to Prazak. Prazak read the document displayed on the screen as Herschel spoke, "Last night, during the storm, the operations center received this report from the garrison at La'trec."

"La'trec is near the Frozen Lake. On the border of Ti'hi territory," Prazak scratched at his stubble as he continued to read.

"Right. The duty officer reported this to me since I was still in my office. I told him not to disturb you at the time. We weren't sure it was anything more than a frightened farmer seeing things in the storm."

"It was a hell of a storm," Prazak nodded. He wasn't upset that he had not been informed. Herschel knew when to make the necessary decisions.

"It was. As you can see in the report, it was a farm boy that notified the garrison's captain."

"What was a boy doing out in the storm? And that close to Ti'hi territory?"

"We don't know, but the boy and his sister led a troop of garrison soldiers to what they saw. Colonel Marking left earlier with a contingent of his scouts to meet the other group," Herschel stepped forward and handed another tablet to Prazak, "this is what they found."

Prazak inhaled and looked towards his friend. Usually one to contain his emotions in front of others, he had no reason to do so in front of Herschel. Both men, as well as Colonel Marking, were in the same situation. "This can't be."

Herschel shook his head, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "It is."

"What is it doing here?"

"No idea." Herschel grumbled.

Prazak studied the images on the pad. They depicted a shuttlecraft, blanketed in a thin layer of snow and sitting on the pebbled shore of the Frozen Lake.

Herschel continued, "Marking has secured the site and as of yet has not found any people that may have been in the craft. They did get the vessel open and no one was inside."

Prazak studied the report and the images as the pair fell silent. Before he could speak again, his bedroom door opened. Sa emerged. Dressed in her formal gown from the night prior, she managed to make her hair presentable enough to depart. Prazak smiled at the sight and then chuckled when he heard Herschel huff.

Sa stepped to him, "Bad news I assume, Generals?"

"Lady Sa," Herschel nodded slightly.

Prazak handed the pads back to the other officer. Looking at the woman, he shrugged, "As I said earlier, duty. Do not concern yourself with it. This does not affect the nobility."

"Mmhmm," Sa ran a finger up and down the middle of his chest. "So, you have to leave again?"

Prazak moved, leading the woman to the door. When they were there, he wrapped a hand around the back of her head, bunching up a handful of her hair, and pulled her up into a deep and passionate kiss. Her moans vibrated against his mouth and tongue and he had to force himself to break the contact before it went any further. Sa smiled into his eyes. It was a sly, almost devious look.

"I'll find you when I return. Before you ask, I do not know when that shall be." The corners of Prazak's lips curled upward. He hit the button and opened the door. Sa planted a hand on his chest, giving his pec one final squeeze before she stepped out, turned, and disappeared down the hall.

When she was gone, Prazak closed the door and returned to the task at hand.

"Sa? Again, Andrej?" Herschel smirked. "You know that woman is only interested in one thing from you."

"And what would that be, old friend?" Prazak joked.

"Don't act as if you don't know, Prazak," Herschel rolled his eyes, "the nobility is dangerous. She doesn't care about you. She just cares about getting in your bed."

As if to affirm Herschel's statement, Zoja lifted her head from the rug and let out a whiny growl. The magnificent cat's eyes changed in color from a golden yellow to a deep red. Changing eye colors based on their moods was a unique ability of the beautiful animals.

"See? Even Zoja agrees. Davnora cats are notorious for sniffing out ulterior motives." Herschel laughed.

Prazak smiled and shook his head, "Then it seems I am outnumbered. Don't worry yourself with Lady Sa. You act as if I'm looking for anything more than what she wants. I'm not. So enough of it for now. Back to that," Prazak pointed at the tablets in his friend's hand.

Seeming to have accepted Prazak's statement, Herschel returned to the matter for which he'd come. "What do you want to do about this, Andrej? Why do you think they are here?"

"It appears we need to join Colonel Marking, find these people, and figure that out."

"It's more than likely they've been captured by the Ti'hi." Herschel stated. "We haven't seen any recent activity there in some time, but this is close to the same location where a squad of Marking's scouts went missing last month."

"Perhaps if we find one, we will find the other. The storm has passed," Prazak stretched again. "We should have little difficulty find the Ti'hi's underground holes. When we do, we attack. And what we find there...we kill."

"And what of these people?" Herschel waved the pads a little.

"We find out just what the hell Starfleet is doing here," Prazak replied, his face and voice, having gone cold. His eyes went to the fireplace. On a stand next to Zoja was a magnificent longsword, its sharpened and polished blade gleaming in the light. "And when we do, we'll do what is necessary."

To Be Continued...