USS Venture
System LMC-043918
Large Magellanic Cloud
“Our guest still causing us problems, sir?” Commander Zlosk,
Venture’s Denobulan first officer asked as Ebnal returned to the bridge.
“He seems determined to be the screen-door on my submersible,” Ebnal growled disconsolately. The captain hesitated for a moment as he resumed his seat in the command chair. “Any anomalous activity on sensors?”
His XO looked nonplussed. “No, sir. Nothing. I’d have notified you if anything had come up.”
Ebnal nodded distractedly. “Of course.” He seemed unusually indecisive for a brief moment before adding, “Order our ships and the Klingons to sweep the vicinity of the station with antiproton beams.”
Zlosk gave him another questioning glance from the XO’s seat. “Aye, sir. And what are we looking for, may I ask?”
“Anything that’s not supposed to be there,” Ebnal answered cryptically.
* * *
USS Europa
System LMC-043923
Large Magellanic Cloud
Wu took the captain’s chair nodding soberly to Lightner as he vacated the seat for her. “Lieutenant, please slow our approach to the target system to give us five minutes until system entry.”
“Aye, sir,” Lightner acknowledged, relieved to have the captain back on the bridge and A’lasha safely sedated in Sickbay.
Wu took a long look at those manning their posts on the bridge, her crew, entrusted to her command. She toggled the ship’s public address before she’d fully decided on what to say, but the occasion seemed to warrant something.
“This is the captain,” she began, her mind racing to provide something worthy of their time only moments before what could prove be a cataclysmic battle.
“All of you know what’s at stake here, and what the next few minutes could bring. When we put on these uniforms we knew we might be called upon to sacrifice ourselves for the safety of the Federation and those we’ve left behind at home. That moment of truth may be upon us. I know I can trust all of you to do your duty, whatever awaits us.”
She cut the feed, brushing her clammy palms on her uniform pants. “Okay, shields up, weapons hot; standby to route auxiliary power to weapons and shields.”
“Weapons and defenses active,” Leone advised from the Tactical station.
She glanced at the Science station, where Shanthi sat analyzing long-range sensor returns taken before they’d entered transwarp. “Best guess for where we come out?”
“The last hit we had on our trace-beacon aboard the cube put the Amon in a low orbit above a Class-M planet. That’s all the information we have, sir.”
Wu nodded fractionally. “Drop us out of transwarp fifteen-thousand kilometers from the cube.” She wanted to have one of their inventory of Alpha Weapons armed and in the launch tube, but she knew that would court another confrontation with her XO and the senior staff who had threatened to mutiny if Wu took unilateral lethal action against the Amon. The senior officers had insisted that the Alpha Weapons remain under lock and key until such time as there was no other recourse but to use them.
“Dropping out of transwarp in three… two… one…” Lightner announced.
“Here we go,” Wu breathed.
Europa appeared without warning in orbit of a greenish-brown planet, mottled with wispy bands of cloud cover. The bridge’s main viewscreen locked on the image of the Amon cube, sitting cockeyed in low orbit, rotating slowly.
“Status of the cube,” Wu ordered, her eyes riveted to the enormous vessel, the surface of which was still visibly pitted and scarred from its earlier battle with the combined Starfleet and Klingon task force. Its hull, usually illuminated from within, was largely dark with only scant lights hinting at remaining life within.
“Reading extensive external and internal damage, Captain,” Shanthi replied. “Their weapons systems, propulsion, life-support, and defensive subspace field are all seriously compromised.”
“Life signs?”
The ensign at Operations answered, “Hard to tell, sir. There’s significant radiation emanating from within the cube and lingering in its vicinity.” She turned to shrug apologetically to Wu. “Amon life signs are difficult to read in the best of conditions.”
Tiny dots could be seen darting away from the cube towards the planet below.
“What’s going on there?” Liu asked from the chair to Wu’s immediate left.
“Amon small-craft, Counselor, analogous to our shuttles. I’m seeing significant traffic between the surface and the cube in orbit.”
From the XO’s seat, Kirk’s brow creased as she leaned forward to inquire, “Any sign of intelligent life on the planet?”
This time it was Leone at Tactical who responded. “Yes, sir. I’m picking up signs indicative of a Level Two proto-industrialized society; technologically equivalent to early 19th-century Europe on Earth.”
Kirk’s frown increased as she asked, “Population?”
“One-point-three billion, Lieutenant.” A warbling alert from Leone’s panel garnered his attention. “Captain, we’re being hailed by the cube.”
Wu rose from her chair, steeling herself for what she was certain would be an unpleasant conversation. “Put it up on the screen.”
A jumping, wavering image coalesced into the face of Nestrala, Battle-Master of the Amon, life-mate to Zeischt and now their tribe’s
defacto leader following A’lasha’s killing of Warlord Jalahar.
Through the jittery, pixilated image, it was evident that the woman’s once-radiant beauty was absent, replaced by a haggard appearance replete with open sores, scabs, and patches of missing hair marring her face and head.
“So…” Nestrala rasped, “…come to finish us, have you?”
“We’ve come to ensure your threat to the Alpha Quadrant is ended,” Wu answered, choosing her words carefully. “If you surrender your weapons willingly, we can come to some sort of agreement. A treaty, perhaps?”
Nestrala’s laughter led to a bout of harsh coughing. “Surrender, to you? I think not, human. You’ve… wounded us, certainly, but we are far from finished.”
“We don’t seek further confrontation,” Wu offered. “If you cease your attacks upon us and agree to remain in this galaxy, we can assist you with settlement upon any number of life-supporting worlds.”
A sneer marred Nestrala’s already ghoulish face. “Are we to become farmers, then? I think not. We are nomadic warriors and hunters, human. This is how we were designed to be, it is literally in our genes.”
Wu studied Nestrala’s image silently for a long moment. “Is there nothing we can offer you that would entice you to negotiate a peaceful ending to this situation?”
“Give us the Vulcan bitch that helped to design this plague you’ve inflicted on us, and help us to reverse its effects.”
It took everything Wu had to keep from wincing at this demand. “Starfleet and the Federation disavow the actions of Section 31. We have no control over or influence with them.”
Nestrala glowered balefully at Wu. “She is aboard you ship! Give her to us!”
“I will not,” Wu answered, her stomach tightening.
“Then we have nothing further to discuss,” was Nestrala’s biting rejoinder. “If you approach any closer, arm your Alpha Weapons, or take any other aggressive actions toward us, we still retain more than enough firepower to annihilate the population of the planet below us.”
“Nestrala, please listen to reas—“
The Battle-Master cut Wu off mid-sentence. “Lest you think you can vanish into transwarp and re-emerge to vaporize us with your Alpha Weapons, we have planted numerous biogenic dispersal stations on the surface. They are linked to what I believe you refer to as a dead-man’s-switch. If we are destroyed, the creatures on the planet below die with us.”
The Amon cut the signal at their end, abruptly terminating the conversation and leaving Wu staring at the image of the abused cube loitering in low orbit. Wu turned a stinging glare on her senior officers. “Briefing room. Now.”
A series of uncomfortable glances flitted between the senior staff as they began moving towards the doors to the conference room adjoining the bridge.
Wu looked to Lightner. “Lieutenant, you have the conn. Back us off at one-quarter impulse to a distance of one-million kilometers from the cube. Remain at red alert and notify me immediately of any change in behavior or defensive posture by the Amon.” She pointed at Leone at the Tactical board. “Dom, I need you here in case they start trouble.”
The moment the doors to the briefing room slid shut, Wu spun around towards her officers, some of whom had taken seats while others remained standing defensively, arms folded across their chests.
“I hope you’re happy!” Wu railed. “If we’d deployed an Alpha Weapon the moment we dropped out of transwarp, this situation would be over. Instead, the Amon now have over a billion hostages.”
Silence greeted her outburst.
“This is precisely the crisis I’d hoped to avoid by launching a preemptive strike, but you do-gooders shot that plan all to hell!” Wu spread her arms to encompass the group. “Anyone have any brilliant ideas now?”
“From a tactical standpoint, Captain, we still have the advantage.” This was offered by Verrik with his customary equanimity. “We have only the word of the Amon that they’ve booby-trapped the planet. We remain highly mobile and undamaged, while the Amon are anchored here with an impaired ship and faltering weapons and defenses.”
“I fail to see the advantage in having endangered over a billion lives, Mister V—“
“Bridge to the captain,” Lightner’s voice issued from overhead.
It seemed like Wu had to force her eyes away from Verrik. “Report.”
“We’ve just received a garbled transmission from Shul’Nazhar, sir. Venture
reports our battle group has come under attack from the Romulans.”
* * *
End Part III
The story will be concluded in
Part IV - Solitary Frontier
