So, didn’t I tell you that things would get ‘interesting’?

Far be it for an unreliable – narrator like me to allow myself to indulge in even a moment of self – congratulation, but even the most assiduously mean – spirited amongst us wouldn’t begrudge the opportunity to celebrate a job well done, even if it is – in truth – a job still in progress?

Ah! Progress!

At the end of the day, isn’t Progress what it’s all about, when you put aside the tissue – thin modesty of your publically espoused moral – certitude, that we all so keenly cling to – like how a drowning man clings to a life – preserver as his burning ship slips beneath the turbulent seas? When we set aside all the excuses that mask our true motivations, when our naked ambition is suddenly revealed under the scrutiny of our peers to be small and mean and self – serving?

Thus exposed – our pervading drive towards Progress is the only justification for our actions and in the end we all worship at the feet of that particular, capricious – God.

Just look at the poor tumbling popsicle that was formerly Ghaeykesh, the Nausicaan Hacker?

You remember him, right? Whirr! Whoosh! Huhhhhh! Cold!

With the Nausicaan’s unwilling progress through the airlock of Starbase 72, the great levers of “Progress” were thrown and all the fun and frolics that were set in motion since (I thank you) can be argued to have stemmed from that nascent point of initiation.

Not that Ghaeykesh was having much fun, nor frolics – as we saw – but hey! THAT’s Progress right?

“Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs”, as that puffed – up old blowhard, Captain Carrington likes to say.

But there! I’m getting off track again, aren’t I?

Professional hazard – comes with the territory. When you’ve lived as many lives as me, it’s astoundingly easy to get lost in yourself. For that egregious act of self – deception I apologize.

And don’t think for a minute that I can’t hear your little grey manimal – brains fizzing at overdrive, still trying to work out the mystery as to my identity and smugly thinking that you pretty much have it all worked out?

Firstly, you have far too much fucking free time on your hands, if that is indeed the case. Here I am, providing you a smorgasbord of high adventure and intrigue – the likes of which are seldom seen this side of the Alpha Quadrant; and all you can do is occupy your time playing at “Guess Who?”.

“Do they have hair? Are they wearing a hat?”

Honestly, it’s pathetic, and in any case, as I told you from the get – go, it’s a distraction at best and whatever you think you know, invariably you’re going to be dead – wrong, Sister!

As is so often the case with Progress.

Speaking of which, let’s drag your minds out of the gutter and slap those asses back into the cheap seats, as the 2nd Act is well & truly over and the Grand Finale is about to begin and (as previously stated) it’s going to be a doozy!

After all, I did promise you all a show to remember, did I not?

So, our intrepid Starfleet Girl – Scout, the impossibly moral and self – righteous Commander Samantha Hyland is winging her away towards the Vannis system aboard the USS Henry Hudson, the crushing – guilt that is attendant in having to actually act like the rest of us and break the law once – in – a – while to get something she wants – probably (predictably) weighing heavy on her perfect blonde – head.

And in her hands (drum – roll please), Genesis!!!

You have to appreciate the irony really, engineering a situation wherein Starfleet’s finest are entrapped by their hypocritical, ridged – righteousness and forced to stoop down to our level and wade through the ichor and muck of common criminality.

To perform a crime so perfidious and steal a weapon so insidious – that it is akin to the vengeful Hand of God – and then cough it up into the greasy hands of the Galaxies most greedy and untrustworthy villainous scum – all for shamefully filthy and base credits.

Almost brings a tear to the eye, don’t it?

Speaking of which, if I can draw your attention to the faded glory that once was the pride of Altine Transship lines – the former passenger liner “Tonino Delli Colli”?

A serene beauty that once graced the spacelanes as the very last word in class and luxury; now a moldering husk awaiting the last cruel sting of the wreckers cutting – beam – as it reposes amongst the carcasses of a multitude of similar unfortunates awaiting their fate in the Cattivo breakers – yard – you can see that our dubious guests are indeed gathering.

Like vultures hungry for the feast.

Here is the bulbous hull of the Tellarite – Vessel “Ëncaadi”, already docked – which means that (like the greedy pig he really is) that the blustering Pirate – King, Onkem – Pog, is already aboard the “Tonino Delli Colli”.

Of course he is. True to form – Pog always has to make sure that he has the prime position in the trough, to be able to force his snout into wherever the getting is the gooiest. He’s woefully predictable like that and thinks that violence is the shortest route through any problem.

Nestled alongside the “Ëncaadi”, hull like an explosion in a knife factory, is the vessel “Sirararix”, which means that Comrade R’Kirad of the Reman Remnant and his merry band of “freedom – fighters” (for ‘freedom fighter’, read – ‘Wildly narcissistic and self – interested terrorist organization’, and you’re most – way there) have either won big at Dabo, or have finally managed to attract a backer with some big money – who isn’t put off by their less than stellar track – record in the field.

Speaking of terrorists, a party wouldn’t be a party without being crashed by the True Way and, if I’m not much mistaken, that would be the battle – scarred hull of the Galor – Class Cruiser “Verran” – formerly the ride of Gul Yomat Ghallir (before he was defeated by our very own Commander Hyland and resigned to the Slam, by the Detapa Council. It really is a small Universe, is it not?) – which means that Ghallir’s protégé and former right – hand man, Legate Gohiarr Dac, is also keen to get his cruel, grey fingers on the technology behind Genesis.

‘When Genocide is your Endgame – “Genesis” – accept no other!’

I should have gone into advertising, I swear.

Now this is interesting.

Out of the darkness manifests the dark avenging angel that is the K’vort-class Bird of Prey bearing the markings of Marshall H’odahl shak’Mad – one time lieutenant of the Sovereignty of Kahless.

Now, in my business it pays to be well-informed and keep up with the ever – changing goings on within the cosmopolitan Galactic “Whose – fucking over – whom” shell – game, but I swear to all that is unholy that I thought that H’odahl shak’Mad was on the outs with whatever remained of the leadership of Marak’s little band of merry – pranksters – after they had been all – but – wiped out in “Operation : Gatecrasher” back in ’89.

But here she is, late to the party – presumably with a fist – full – of – latinum and a desire to fuel that ever-burning reactor of revenge that is her black – heart.

Now, this party has the potential to be even more interesting that first intended.

Which brings me to our guest of honor.

Arriving as fashionably late, so as to be positively unfashionable – slinks the dubious hull of the ship unfortunate enough to bear Shadreck Deen, murderer, extortionist, sociopath, gleeful issuer of Death – Marks and undoubtedly a cold – blooded asshole of the first rank – notwithstanding being one of the most senior leading lights of the Orion Syndicate.

Even I, a paragon of objective neutrality, must confess to a tincture of green – eyed loathing at the advent of Shadreck Deen to these proceedings. But then I cannot think of a reality where such a loathsome, greedy piece of shit, amoral shark such as Deen would not be attracted by the tang of proverbial blood in the water.

When he learned that the object on offer was the Genesis Particle – I bet you two to one that that bastard probably came in his pants.

So, there you have it folks. If ever there was a collective gathering of the very worst that the Galaxy has on offer, I’ll be fucked sideways if I could find any worse.

And here they have all gathered, in the center of this mausoleum to Progress, amongst the decaying hulks of vessels that were once the very embodiment of hope and the manifest expression of someone’s faded dreams; gathered herein to bid for a technology that was once similarly the very apex of pure ambition and Progress – that somehow became the very harbinger of terror and destruction.

Well, like I said and will keep on saying until someone sits up and takes note, that’s ‘Progress’ for you. Isn’t it?

So…. table’s set, candles are lit, everyone’s clustered around the seating plan – wondering just who they will have to knife in the guts to get the best seat for the show that’s about to begin. There’s just one thing missing really, isn’t there?

Bang! Yes! Right on Cue!

At the edge of the system, a subtle disruption to the fabric of space – time is announced with a sliver of bright light, like someone has momentarily held back the stage – curtain of night to reveal the wonders beneath and a magician has just pulled a Challenger – class starship from their hat with a showy – flourish.

The entertainment is finally here.

And pilgrims……. what a show it will be!!!