Captain's Log: We are heading toward a sector of the Alpha Quadrant where Hirogens have recently been detected following their arrival after a long journey. They are a race of hunters from the Delta Quadrant, first encountered by the USS Voyager, which discovered and made use of their communications network before later facing them in person on Stardate 51501.4.
We are dealing with hunters who seek prey across the galaxy. Our mission is to neutralize them, repel them, and, if necessary, destroy them. I hope we will not have to resort to extreme measures.
Commander Antos struck up a conversation with Captain Mark.
"Captain, we know very little about the Hirogens and the Breen. Sometimes I find myself wondering about things, like whether they enjoy music as much as we do."
"I don't know, Number One. I don't think the Breen necessarily have helmets designed for listening to music."
"Now that I think about it, don't you play any instruments? On other Federation ships, it's fairly common for crews to form bands during their free time."
"I don't see the point in playing an instrument when you can generate music with a computer without needing one." he replied in a neutral tone.
"Perhaps, but... there's something captivating about doing things the old-fashioned way."
"Not in my case."
Chief of Security David detected signals on his console.
"We're detecting warp signatures heading toward our position. A vessel is approaching."
"On screen." Mark ordered.
"A mixture of ship components... Romulan, Cardassian..." Antos observed.
"Pakleds!" Mark exclaimed. "Pilot, get us out of here."
"We can't move. They're trying to grab us with an amplified tractor beam. I've never seen anything with this much power!" said helmsman Stross.
"Try to establish communications with the Pakled vessel."
"We're receiving a message," said Stross. "Just one word: 'Stay.'"
"I'm detecting that the tractor beam is weakening at impulse speed. If we keep this up, we'll break free without any damage!" David reported.
"Whatever they're looking for, they can't have good intentions. Increase impulse speed."
Just as they were about to break free from the tractor beam, the Pakled vessel launched several spheres that embedded themselves into the USS Mar del Plata.
"Captain," said David, "there are one-meter-diameter spheres that have just attached themselves to the hull, right where the phasers are located."
"They're attempting to establish communications with us." Stross stated.
"They made us wait. Put them on screen."
The typical face of a male Pakled appeared on the screen: grayish-brown skin, vertical eyebrows, and a wrinkled face. He was their captain.
Without hesitation, Mark Epsilon was concise.
"You are violating the integrity of a Starfleet vessel. Do you understand what that means?" Then, in a sterner and more forceful tone, he shouted, "Would you mind telling me what the hell you just did?!"
"I... wouldn't want to ruin any surprises."
"What surprise are you talking about? What you're doing could be considered a threat."
"Threat? We only need help, one way or another. We asked you to stay, but you moved."
"There are ways to ask for assistance, and this isn't one of them. Besides, it's not that we're known for judging people prematurely, but we've already had previous attempts at betrayal from Pakleds. So I suggest you make your intentions clear, or I'll have to order you to leave Federation territory."
"You help Pakleds, Pakleds go."
"We can discuss that in another sector, but not here. We're not safe. There are hunter vessels in the area."
"Help Pakleds, Pakleds go."
"Captain," David said, "I think they're only going to understand the hard way."
"Wait a moment, Captain!" the commander exclaimed. "We don't know how the Pakleds might react if we…
Captain's Log: We are heading toward a sector of the Alpha Quadrant where Hirogens have recently been detected following their arrival after a long journey. They are a race of hunters from the Delta Quadrant, first encountered by the USS Voyager, which discovered and made use of their communications network before later facing them in person on Stardate 51501.4.
We are dealing with hunters who seek prey across the galaxy. Our mission is to neutralize them, repel them, and, if necessary, destroy them. I hope we will not have to resort to extreme measures.
Commander Antos struck up a conversation with Captain Mark.
"Captain, we know very little about the Hirogens and the Breen. Sometimes I find myself wondering about things, like whether they enjoy music as much as we do."
"I don't know, Number One. I don't think the Breen necessarily have helmets designed for listening to music."
"Now that I think about it, don't you play any instruments? On other Federation ships, it's fairly common for crews to form bands during their free time."
"I don't see the point in playing an instrument when you can generate music with a computer without needing one." he replied in a neutral tone.
"Perhaps, but... there's something captivating about doing things the old-fashioned way."
"Not in my case."
Chief of Security David detected signals on his console.
"We're detecting warp signatures heading toward our position. A vessel is approaching."
"On screen." Mark ordered.
"A mixture of ship components... Romulan, Cardassian..." Antos observed.
"Pakleds!" Mark exclaimed. "Pilot, get us out of here."
"We can't move. They're trying to grab us with an amplified tractor beam. I've never seen anything with this much power!" said helmsman Stross.
"Try to establish communications with the Pakled vessel."
"We're receiving a message," said Stross. "Just one word: 'Stay.'"
"I'm detecting that the tractor beam is weakening at impulse speed. If we keep this up, we'll break free without any damage!" David reported.
"Whatever they're looking for, they can't have good intentions. Increase impulse speed."
Just as they were about to break free from the tractor beam, the Pakled vessel launched several spheres that embedded themselves into the USS Mar del Plata.
"Captain," said David, "there are one-meter-diameter spheres that have just attached themselves to the hull, right where the phasers are located."
"They're attempting to establish communications with us." Stross stated.
"They made us wait. Put them on screen."
The typical face of a male Pakled appeared on the screen: grayish-brown skin, vertical eyebrows, and a wrinkled face. He was their captain.
Without hesitation, Mark Epsilon was concise.
"You are violating the integrity of a Starfleet vessel. Do you understand what that means?" Then, in a sterner and more forceful tone, he shouted, "Would you mind telling me what the hell you just did?!"
"I... wouldn't want to ruin any surprises."
"What surprise are you talking about? What you're doing could be considered a threat."
"Threat? We only need help, one way or another. We asked you to stay, but you moved."
"There are ways to ask for assistance, and this isn't one of them. Besides, it's not that we're known for judging people prematurely, but we've already had previous attempts at betrayal from Pakleds. So I suggest you make your intentions clear, or I'll have to order you to leave Federation territory."
"You help Pakleds, Pakleds go."
"We can discuss that in another sector, but not here. We're not safe. There are hunter vessels in the area."
"Help Pakleds, Pakleds go."
"Captain," David said, "I think they're only going to understand the hard way."
"Wait a moment, Captain!" the commander exclaimed. "We don't know how the Pakleds might react if we…
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