Star Trek: Colony (Season 1)

The New Home

Federation space station Deep Space 9, late 24th Century

Dr. Bashir's office.

The aged Dr. Bashir, his mind still as sharp as ever, sat down at his desk this fateful morning. Just as he was about to open up a research report, an important notification appeared on his screen. "Ozla Graniv?" Dr. Bashir wondered out loud. "The famous reporter from Trill has a message for me?" He took a sip of his Klingon coffee and opened the message.

Uncomfortable facts read the subject header. Code-name for Section 31 matters, Dr. Bashir thought. He quickly reached around to the side of his smooth data desk pressed the button. The office door quickly shut and locked with a whine of its gears. He started reading through the email's list of documents. She got access to Section 31's files! he realized. He skimmed through the list and picked one with the subject header The Golden Age.

He opened that file and skimmed through the table of contents, and stopped at a picture. He dropped his cup of coffee. The faux ceramic cup shattered, like his heart, into a hundred pieces on impact. He looked at the picture in shock and said "I can't believe this...Our golden age, built upon billions of deaths, by an unsanctioned death squad. Made of... teenagers?" He scrolled through the reports and pieced the heartbreaking story together.

2296, Yorktown station

Vice Admiral Akbor, commander of largest Federation space station in the neutral zone, walked with solemn purpose to his office on the command deck. The crew of the station zipped by him, on their way to and from their work stations in the clean two-toned hallway. The doors of the command deck quickly slid open with their patented, timeless schwiss sound of their hydraulic pistons. The crew stood up and briefly saluted him as he walked inside. He barely paid them any attention at first. Once at his door, he turned around and gave the short double bow of acknowledgment common on his homeworld. The crew returned to work and the commander entered his office, his mind focused on the interesting subspace call he was requested to make.

"Captain Ferguson! It's been a long time since our Mars days!" he said when Captain Ferguson answered the video call.

"It has, Vice Admiral," Captan Ferguson said with his usual deep dolcett voice. "It has."

"So what do you have for me?"

"Emergency request from Starfleet command. There was an incident on the edge of the Alpha Quadrant. Scout ship rescued some refugees from-" he stopped talking, looked down and picked up some papers, then skimmed through them to find what he wanted. "Uh...translator says they're called Cardassians." He looked up at the admiral again. "Command wants you to stick 'em somewhere."

Akbor's Andorian (blue-skinned aliens with head antennas) eyebrows curled back away from the eyes, a sign of annoyance. "Do I look like a housing manager, captain?"

"No sir, but Starfleet wants them far away so they (he looks down and reads) what is their name, Cardassia? Whatever, doesn't come looking for them and starting a fight."

"Ugh. Fine, we're the Federation. We help everyone. Klingons, Tamarinds, Romulans, and whatever the ones with the bolts in the necks are called."

"Frankensteinians, Admiral?"

"No, that's the ball chin guys. The ones with the big bolts in their necks, whatever they're called."

Captain Ferguson put the papers down. "So, Vice Admiral, the Hathaway is on the way to your sector. Where do you want to drop them off?"

Akbor pressed a few buttons on his console. The screen changed from Ferguson's image to a map of the sector Yorktown was in. Just ten light-years from the Federation-Romulan neutral zone, it was displayed as a big Starfleet symbol, the curved triangle that also made up their comm-badges. Across the neutral zone, in green color, were worlds belonging to the Romulan star empire. On the Federation side, their worlds were colored blue. At the bottom corner of the map was the territory of the Klingon Empire. Their worlds were colored red. Akbor zoomed in on the worlds in that corner of space close to the border. The closest one was a fresh new colony called New Busan. "Send them to New Busan," he told Ferguson. "If they cause a ruckus, we'll redraw the map and let one of those nutbars deal with them."