A United Trek Tale - "For the Empire"
- Thread starter Dnoth
- Start date
Nope...not going to go there...
CeJay, to quote what the Reverend from Blazing Saddles told Sheriff Bart after someone shot his Bible out of his hand, "Son...You're on your own..." Looks like Faltyne has shaken up the normally inflappable Kimula as well...
A good segment...
Great segment! (And the comments were pretty good, too! 
).
Yeah, just what (or who) is "the next best thing?" I'm curious.
I liked the mention of Sandhurst's "slightly graying hair." Now that's an understatement!
The scene between Faltyne and Kimula was nicely done - you provided an interesting glimpse into Andorian culture.
).Yeah, just what (or who) is "the next best thing?" I'm curious.
I liked the mention of Sandhurst's "slightly graying hair." Now that's an understatement!
The scene between Faltyne and Kimula was nicely done - you provided an interesting glimpse into Andorian culture.
The next best thing to a Klingon according to Kirk was a dead Klingon was it not? 
Very interesting ...
But shock horror, Sandhurst made Hobson smile! So ok maybe it was more a smirk - and a subtle smirk at that - and only momentary - but still he made him smirk! I thought there was a greater chance of encountering an Omega particle!
Very interesting ...
But shock horror, Sandhurst made Hobson smile! So ok maybe it was more a smirk - and a subtle smirk at that - and only momentary - but still he made him smirk! I thought there was a greater chance of encountering an Omega particle!
Thanks everyone for the comments and continued patronage!
CHAPTER 6
Supplemental
USS Destrier
Gamma Orionis System
Since Defiant class vessels lacked any sort of recreational facilities, the crew of the Destrier were masters of converting any nook or cranny of the ship into an impromptu rec. area. Currently, shuttlebay one served as a pa’qeq, a training room; in this case for mok’bara, a Klingon martial art.
Captain Nandali Kojo paced around her sparring students. She was a very toned and muscular Kriosian. She could be mistaken for human, if it wasn’t for subtle ‘Trill-like’ spots. She dispassionately assessed her small class. Then, with a single, thunderous clap, ordered them to pause.
“Mister Rawl, your form is excellent,” she commented, “however…” She charged him and screamed with fury.
Rawl, a rather large Bolian, froze. He wasn’t sure how to act or what to do.
Kojo made a simple downward hammer attack, which he failed to deflect. The security officer fell to his knees with a groan. In an instant, the Kriosian had the much larger Rawl in a head lock. Her arm expertly targeted his carotid arteries.
The Bolian’s eyes began to flutter.
The five other members of the mok’bara class watched on in bewilderment and shock.
She released Rawl. His reflexes forced him to cough and he began to massage his neck. The captain casually asked the remaining students, “What was Lieutenant Rawl’s mistake?”
Her only response was blank stares and agape jaws.
After an appropriate silence, Kojo answered her own question, “He began to think.” She helped the still recovering man to his feet and continued, “Mok’bara…and many other martial arts…are about teaching you to act without thought.”
Ensign Stell, the ship’s primary helm officer, inquired, “Captain, how can one act without thinking, first? The concept seems illogical.”
She began to pace, “On the surface, Mister Stell, I can see your confusion. However, if you practice your forms over and over again, your body…your muscles…will remember the movements and react quicker and without conscious thought.” She planted herself, and concluded, “So the next time you get attacked suddenly, you will not think ‘Why is that person attacking me?’ or ‘What technique should I use to defend myself?’ Your body will already know what to do.”
The students confirmed with “HIja’ pIn’a’”
The Kriosian pointed to another student, “Work on your head butts. If you want to fight like a Klingon, you had better get used to it.” She dismissed the students with a booming, “naDev vo’ ylghoS”
As the class dispersed, the com activated, “Captain Kojo, we’re receiving a priority message from the USS Perseus.”
Kojo responded with a simple, “Understood.”
*****
Supplemental
Ko’hachar Submarine Twelve
Under the Northern Ocean
In the blackness of the deep, two vessels of pervious enemies rendezvoused. An umbilical joined them.
A guard swung open the water tight hatch. In the room beyond was General Vacham. The female Hacharan seemed to have an excess of muscles. She was, in fact, a more impressive specimen than the Duke.
Duke Nilu cautiously entered the chamber.
Vacham was flanked by two other officers. She stood and offered, “Thank you for meeting with us.”
He silently nodded and took a chair at the table.
The general sat and continued, “I’m sorry for the death of your uncle, Duke Nilu.”
He spoke it as he was tired of saying it, “We’ve all lost loved ones to these invaders.”
Vacham was in no mood for pleasantries, particularly with current company. “Then, let’s press on to the problem at hand,” she said. “Despite our history, we must unite our forces.”
Nilu morbidly chuckled, “Forces? With the exception of that sub, I have no forces.”
“You have nothing left?”
“For the last 30 years,” he explained, “Do’hachar has enjoyed a superior military stance. I’m afraid my uncle had no concept of fighting a guerilla war.”
The general leaned back and crossed her arms, “I’ve already been in contact with someone who does.”
Do’hachar’s de facto head of state bitterly sighed, knowing exactly who she was talking about.
*****
Stardate: 54368.1 (15 May 2377)
USS Independence, MainBridge
At Rendezvous Point (Two Light-Years from the Fu’puk System)
Captain Aurelia stood from the center seat, “Report.”
Lieutenant Faltyne began, “The Perseus is holding station 54 kilometers to starboard.”
“They’re hailing,” added Kimula.
Aurelia turned, “What’s this guy’s name?”
‘Guy? We’re talking about a Starfleet captain.’ thought the new tactical chief.
“Hobson, Christopher Hobson,” answered the female Andorian.
“Put him up,” ordered Sintina.
A light-skinned man with brown hair appeared. There was no warmth in his face. He evenly started, “Captain Aurelia, we’re expecting the Destrier within a few hours. When they arrive, please report to the Perseus for a briefing.”
Aurelia blinked several times. She glanced at Karim, whom shrugged a shoulder. She addressed her peer, “Well…ok.”
“Very well,” crisply responded Hobson, “Perseus out.” The screen reverted to a live view of the Intrepid class starship.
“It makes sense, now,” commented Kimula, whom had recently started going by Lieutenant Soma. The conversation with her brethren had guilt-tripped her.
Karim turned in his chair, “What makes sense?”
“I’ve heard rumors about Hobson,” she explained, “People who’ve worked with him call him ‘Iceman.’”
“Iceman?” questioned the Latino captain.
“Yeah,” continued the Andorian com. officer, “apparently, he shows very little emotion and doesn’t rattle at all under pressure.”
Aurelia commented in a hushed tone, “Why I don’t I have a nickname?”
Commander bin Nadal heard her complaint and leaned in with a grin, “You do. We just don’t say it to your face.”
She rolled her eyes, “I can imagine.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Captain’s Ready Room
At Rendezvous Point
Commander Rysyl entered. She sensed it again. A thought…just a passing thought. She was bonded to this man as only a Deltan can be. The former intimacy allowed for a psychic link. Powerful pheromones didn’t help the situation. The factors intensified when they were alone. She felt a fleeting sense of anxiety and longing from him. As soon as she felt it, it was successfully repressed.
“You wanted to see me, Captain,” she began.
“Yes,” he handed her a padd, “I’ve been scanning over the profiles of our assistance and I want a second opinion.”
Anara took the document and sat.
Hobson prompted, “Take a look at Captain Kojo, first.”
After a few moments of silence, “I can see why you wanted her here. She’s from a Klingon subject world, was married to a Klingon, and has an impressive, if not -- troublesome record.”
“What’s your opinion of Captain Aurelia?”
“Well,” the Deltan observed, “she seems to have an … independent streak.” She supplemented, “No pun intended.”
Hobson wasn’t fazed by the comment. He sat forward and assessed, “Neither one seems to play well with others.”
“I don’t know if that’s fair, Chris,” she said. “Didn’t Captain Shelby work with Aurelia once after we left the Sutherland?”
“Yes,” confirmed Hobson, “and she found her to be a bit too arrogant for her own good. Aurelia’s recklessness nearly ruined the mission.”
Anara tipped her head in concession.
“And to top it off,” added the Iceman, “take a look at the Independence’s chief engineer.”
“Windslow,” she read. Anara looked up, “I’ve heard that name somewhere.”
“He was once a captain. Windslow was convicted of deserting his crew and covering it up.”
“And he’s still in Starfleet?” questioned the first officer.
Hobson cocked his head ever so slightly, “A testament to our losses with the Dominion.”
Suddenly, Rysyl was concerned, “You’re not holding that against him, are you?” It wouldn’t be the first time Chris held a grudge.
“Yes I do,” he honestly replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t chastise him for running.” He leaned forward and said with resolve, “But any captain…any person capable of consciously hiding something like that has no business walking around free, let alone wearing the uniform.”
Anara gazed down for a second, unable to think of anything to say.
The Iceman leaned back, “But having said all that, it won’t affect my professionalism. It’s other people that I’m concerned about.”
END OF CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 6
Supplemental
USS Destrier
Gamma Orionis System
Since Defiant class vessels lacked any sort of recreational facilities, the crew of the Destrier were masters of converting any nook or cranny of the ship into an impromptu rec. area. Currently, shuttlebay one served as a pa’qeq, a training room; in this case for mok’bara, a Klingon martial art.
Captain Nandali Kojo paced around her sparring students. She was a very toned and muscular Kriosian. She could be mistaken for human, if it wasn’t for subtle ‘Trill-like’ spots. She dispassionately assessed her small class. Then, with a single, thunderous clap, ordered them to pause.
“Mister Rawl, your form is excellent,” she commented, “however…” She charged him and screamed with fury.
Rawl, a rather large Bolian, froze. He wasn’t sure how to act or what to do.
Kojo made a simple downward hammer attack, which he failed to deflect. The security officer fell to his knees with a groan. In an instant, the Kriosian had the much larger Rawl in a head lock. Her arm expertly targeted his carotid arteries.
The Bolian’s eyes began to flutter.
The five other members of the mok’bara class watched on in bewilderment and shock.
She released Rawl. His reflexes forced him to cough and he began to massage his neck. The captain casually asked the remaining students, “What was Lieutenant Rawl’s mistake?”
Her only response was blank stares and agape jaws.
After an appropriate silence, Kojo answered her own question, “He began to think.” She helped the still recovering man to his feet and continued, “Mok’bara…and many other martial arts…are about teaching you to act without thought.”
Ensign Stell, the ship’s primary helm officer, inquired, “Captain, how can one act without thinking, first? The concept seems illogical.”
She began to pace, “On the surface, Mister Stell, I can see your confusion. However, if you practice your forms over and over again, your body…your muscles…will remember the movements and react quicker and without conscious thought.” She planted herself, and concluded, “So the next time you get attacked suddenly, you will not think ‘Why is that person attacking me?’ or ‘What technique should I use to defend myself?’ Your body will already know what to do.”
The students confirmed with “HIja’ pIn’a’”
The Kriosian pointed to another student, “Work on your head butts. If you want to fight like a Klingon, you had better get used to it.” She dismissed the students with a booming, “naDev vo’ ylghoS”
As the class dispersed, the com activated, “Captain Kojo, we’re receiving a priority message from the USS Perseus.”
Kojo responded with a simple, “Understood.”
*****
Supplemental
Ko’hachar Submarine Twelve
Under the Northern Ocean
In the blackness of the deep, two vessels of pervious enemies rendezvoused. An umbilical joined them.
A guard swung open the water tight hatch. In the room beyond was General Vacham. The female Hacharan seemed to have an excess of muscles. She was, in fact, a more impressive specimen than the Duke.
Duke Nilu cautiously entered the chamber.
Vacham was flanked by two other officers. She stood and offered, “Thank you for meeting with us.”
He silently nodded and took a chair at the table.
The general sat and continued, “I’m sorry for the death of your uncle, Duke Nilu.”
He spoke it as he was tired of saying it, “We’ve all lost loved ones to these invaders.”
Vacham was in no mood for pleasantries, particularly with current company. “Then, let’s press on to the problem at hand,” she said. “Despite our history, we must unite our forces.”
Nilu morbidly chuckled, “Forces? With the exception of that sub, I have no forces.”
“You have nothing left?”
“For the last 30 years,” he explained, “Do’hachar has enjoyed a superior military stance. I’m afraid my uncle had no concept of fighting a guerilla war.”
The general leaned back and crossed her arms, “I’ve already been in contact with someone who does.”
Do’hachar’s de facto head of state bitterly sighed, knowing exactly who she was talking about.
*****
Stardate: 54368.1 (15 May 2377)
USS Independence, MainBridge
At Rendezvous Point (Two Light-Years from the Fu’puk System)
Captain Aurelia stood from the center seat, “Report.”
Lieutenant Faltyne began, “The Perseus is holding station 54 kilometers to starboard.”
“They’re hailing,” added Kimula.
Aurelia turned, “What’s this guy’s name?”
‘Guy? We’re talking about a Starfleet captain.’ thought the new tactical chief.
“Hobson, Christopher Hobson,” answered the female Andorian.
“Put him up,” ordered Sintina.
A light-skinned man with brown hair appeared. There was no warmth in his face. He evenly started, “Captain Aurelia, we’re expecting the Destrier within a few hours. When they arrive, please report to the Perseus for a briefing.”
Aurelia blinked several times. She glanced at Karim, whom shrugged a shoulder. She addressed her peer, “Well…ok.”
“Very well,” crisply responded Hobson, “Perseus out.” The screen reverted to a live view of the Intrepid class starship.
“It makes sense, now,” commented Kimula, whom had recently started going by Lieutenant Soma. The conversation with her brethren had guilt-tripped her.
Karim turned in his chair, “What makes sense?”
“I’ve heard rumors about Hobson,” she explained, “People who’ve worked with him call him ‘Iceman.’”
“Iceman?” questioned the Latino captain.
“Yeah,” continued the Andorian com. officer, “apparently, he shows very little emotion and doesn’t rattle at all under pressure.”
Aurelia commented in a hushed tone, “Why I don’t I have a nickname?”
Commander bin Nadal heard her complaint and leaned in with a grin, “You do. We just don’t say it to your face.”
She rolled her eyes, “I can imagine.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Captain’s Ready Room
At Rendezvous Point
Commander Rysyl entered. She sensed it again. A thought…just a passing thought. She was bonded to this man as only a Deltan can be. The former intimacy allowed for a psychic link. Powerful pheromones didn’t help the situation. The factors intensified when they were alone. She felt a fleeting sense of anxiety and longing from him. As soon as she felt it, it was successfully repressed.
“You wanted to see me, Captain,” she began.
“Yes,” he handed her a padd, “I’ve been scanning over the profiles of our assistance and I want a second opinion.”
Anara took the document and sat.
Hobson prompted, “Take a look at Captain Kojo, first.”
After a few moments of silence, “I can see why you wanted her here. She’s from a Klingon subject world, was married to a Klingon, and has an impressive, if not -- troublesome record.”
“What’s your opinion of Captain Aurelia?”
“Well,” the Deltan observed, “she seems to have an … independent streak.” She supplemented, “No pun intended.”
Hobson wasn’t fazed by the comment. He sat forward and assessed, “Neither one seems to play well with others.”
“I don’t know if that’s fair, Chris,” she said. “Didn’t Captain Shelby work with Aurelia once after we left the Sutherland?”
“Yes,” confirmed Hobson, “and she found her to be a bit too arrogant for her own good. Aurelia’s recklessness nearly ruined the mission.”
Anara tipped her head in concession.
“And to top it off,” added the Iceman, “take a look at the Independence’s chief engineer.”
“Windslow,” she read. Anara looked up, “I’ve heard that name somewhere.”
“He was once a captain. Windslow was convicted of deserting his crew and covering it up.”
“And he’s still in Starfleet?” questioned the first officer.
Hobson cocked his head ever so slightly, “A testament to our losses with the Dominion.”
Suddenly, Rysyl was concerned, “You’re not holding that against him, are you?” It wouldn’t be the first time Chris held a grudge.
“Yes I do,” he honestly replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t chastise him for running.” He leaned forward and said with resolve, “But any captain…any person capable of consciously hiding something like that has no business walking around free, let alone wearing the uniform.”
Anara gazed down for a second, unable to think of anything to say.
The Iceman leaned back, “But having said all that, it won’t affect my professionalism. It’s other people that I’m concerned about.”
END OF CHAPTER 6
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Wow, Dnoth, you've got me less worried about the Klingons than these three starship captains! I like the volatile mix you've put together. Hobson and Aurelia are light years apart in personality and command style. Kojo is the wild-card, but your opening to this segment shows she's assimilated a lot of Klingon culture.
I can't wait to see how this works out! Excellent!
I like the volatile mix you've put together. Hobson and Aurelia are light years apart in personality and command style. Kojo is the wild-card, but your opening to this segment shows she's assimilated a lot of Klingon culture.I can't wait to see how this works out! Excellent!
"Practice your head butts." Gee, thanks, Mom! Seriously, you've got a fiery mess here-I am looking forward to seeing you clear it up. And who's our mysterious guerrilla fighter?(yeah, caught that). I still think you should arrange for Solly to "chat up" the Klingons- I'm fairly certain he could make an impression on them(shaped like a set of knuckles, no doubt).
For Starfleet captains, to work together is almost as great a challenge as facing an enemy aramada, or so it would seem.
I really like the people you're throwing together here, it's an interesting mix which practically gurantees some upcoming friction.
And it looks like it is too early to write off the Klingon's victims all together. They might pull a surprise or two before all this is over.
So much stuff in the fire here and it's all good. Looking forward to more. A lot actually.
I really like the people you're throwing together here, it's an interesting mix which practically gurantees some upcoming friction.
And it looks like it is too early to write off the Klingon's victims all together. They might pull a surprise or two before all this is over.
So much stuff in the fire here and it's all good. Looking forward to more. A lot actually.
Hobson and Aurelia were bound to rub up against one another - I mean rub each other up the wrong way - ahem sorry! But with Capatain Kojo we have an unknown element thrown into the mix but I think it will still be combustible.
All very interesting and excellent. Just what way will all this kick off ...
All very interesting and excellent. Just what way will all this kick off ...
To everyone who reads and comments: thanks!
Kojo is actually a creation of DarKush. You can read more about her in his story Dark Territory: "Fall Out."
CHAPTER 7
Supplemental
USS Independence, Auxiliary Conference Room
Holding Station with USS Perseus
The meeting room had no windows and it was sparsely furnished. The entire security compliment of the ship stood in formation.
“With the exception of Ensign Lemipil and a few others,” continued the new Andorian security chief, “we’re new to this ship and new to each other.” Jonin looked at the 38 faces. All of them looked rather young. Most of them were only crewmen. None were war veterans. He went on, “But we are now the guardians of this ship and the people on it. It’s up to us to keep them safe…and by gods, they will be. Because we are going to train until we become an outstanding fighting team.” He paused and saw everything from trepidation to excitement. “I’m going to have bi-weekly drills. The scenarios will run the gamut from ship to ship combat, to repelling borders, to colony defense. Any questions? …No? Then report to your shift team leader.”
As the personnel rearranged into smaller groups, Ensign Folana Lemipil, a Zakdorn female, approached him. “Sir,” she started, “I want to make you aware of a possible safety concern with one of our officers, Lieutenant Commander Ethan Windslow, the chief engineer.”
His antennae perked up, “What do you mean?”
She told the tale of the incident at Pentath III and Windslow’s subsequent court-martial.
Faltyne listened intently. When Lemipil was done, he asked, “Why are you telling me this, Ensign?”
“Well, sir,” she started, “I just wanted you to know about Commander ‘Runs…’” She corrected, “Commander Windslow’s…disposition. It would be risky to have him on an away team, sir.”
The Andorian nodded understandingly, “Thank you for your opinion, Ensign, but I prefer to make my own judgments.”
The cool reception to her advice caused the Zakdorn to stiffen up, “Yes, sir.”
*****
Supplemental
IKS Jev’Iw, First Officer’s Chamber
Orbiting Fu’puk II
“It’s been four days, Yaava,” complained Alexander, “More than enough time for Starfleet to get here.” He sat in an uncomfortable metal chair and surmised, “They may not be coming.”
His mate walked behind him and began to massage his shoulders, “We did what we could, Alex.”
“It’s not right.” He tugged at his Klingon armor, “I don’t belong in this. I never should have joined.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered, “I know how you feel. The warrior caste has all but consumed our culture, but there is still honor in us. …You are an example of that.”
He huffed, “‘Honor’…it’s just propaganda. A rallying cry for us to do what the powerful wants.”
Yaava straightened up, “Do not become bitter, loD. Honor still means something to a great many Klingons. Change will come.”
He placed his hand over hers, “I hope so.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Independence, Transporter Room One
Holding Station with USS Perseus
“So whacha gonna do here?” questioned Treasure to the Perseus’ helm officer as they stepped off the transporter dais.
The junior Lieutenant, Yitzhak Shalev, responded, “Simple, I’ve never been aboard a Steamrunner class ship. I hear they have a large officers’ lounge.”
“Yeah,” she observed, “it’d be nice to have one of those. Too bad Hobson doesn’t open the Captain’s Mess unless it’s for an official function.”
“What about you? Where are you heading?”
“Engineering,” she said as they entered to corridor. “Steamrunners have unique warp-field geometry. Besides, it’s always a good idea to chat it up with fellow engineers. Ya neve’ know what you might learn, sugar. Wanna tag along?”
“I don’t know,” Shalev began, “If I transfer to another division, I thought it’d be security; not engineering.”
“Aw come on,” she pressed, “when I’m done, I’ll join you in the lounge.”
He sighed and resigned, “Alright, I guess. I just hope I’ll be able to understand all the shoptalk.”
*****
Lieutenant Angela “Treasure” Barrows rounded the corner to see the warp core. The Class-V M/AM Drive pulsed rhythmically. It was a much older model than the Perseus’ Class-IX, but it was a proven engine.
Barrows immediately noticed the lack of enthusiasm in engineering. People moved around and tended to their duties, but there was an overall feeling of the doldrums. It could be just an off day for the crew…or it could be a simple difference in command style. She was after all, a rather laid back section chief.
A tanned young man approached her with short, brown hair approached them, “I’m Crewman Jackson, can I help you?”
“I’m Lieutenant Barrows and this is Lieutenant Shalev from the Perseus. I was wonderin’ if I could talk to your chief engineer.”
“Oh … well the Commander should be in the master control office on the upper level.” He pointed up, “Just up that lift and to the left. You’ll see it.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” she offered with a warm smile. She and the helm officer made their way to the control station.
Once on the upper level, the duo saw a middle-aged man with reddish-gray hair through a transparent bulkhead. He didn’t look up at them. Yitzhak glimpsed the chief engineer’s face. There was something vaguely familiar about him. He knew the face from somewhere, but he was sure he’d never met the man.
The Perseus chief engineer rapped on the open door frame, “Commander?”
He regarded the visitors, “Yes.”
“I’m the chief engineer of the Perseus, Angela Barrows.”
A genuine smile formed on the Independence engineer, “So you get to work with a swirl intermix chamber?”
She grinned back, “Yes sir, they sure can be touchy.”
“I know,” he said as he got up, “the last ship I was on had one.” He extended a hand, “I’m Ethan Windslow.”
“Nice to me…” she started.
“Windslow,” interrupted Shalev, “formerly captain of the Bismarck, Windslow?”
The smile died. Windslow cleared his throat. He knew where the conversation was going. It had happened before. It seemed every station they went to, every Starfleet ship they encountered, at least one person had heard of him and what he had done. Months ago, he accepted it as his curse. He admitted, “That’s right.”
Yitzhak’s face became red and his jaw clenched, “I was on the Border Cutter Merlin during the war. We were tasked out to the Second Fleet. I remember seeing your ship in formation.”
Ethan avoided his eyes, emotionally preparing himself for the latest attack.
The Eretz Israel native gave Windslow a look that was filled with nothing but contempt and he uttered, “Nearly everyone on my ship was killed by the Jem’hadar! My captain fought to the very end! But not you. You left your crew to die.”
Treasure protested, “Yitzhak!”
Still breathing heavy, he calmed down slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, Lieutenant...” Shalev exited the area without further comment. As he left, a non-com who overheard the exchange gave him an approving nod.
“I’m sorry, Commander,” Barrows offered.
He held up a hand and lied, “It’s alright, Lieutenant. I’m getting used to it.”
“Well I, for one, don’t share his feelings.” An awkward silence followed. She decided to change the subject and gestured to the displays, “What temperature do you run your pre-stage flux chiller at?”
Windslow appreciated her efforts and offered her a seat.
END OF CHAPTER 7
Kojo is actually a creation of DarKush. You can read more about her in his story Dark Territory: "Fall Out."
CHAPTER 7
Supplemental
USS Independence, Auxiliary Conference Room
Holding Station with USS Perseus
The meeting room had no windows and it was sparsely furnished. The entire security compliment of the ship stood in formation.
“With the exception of Ensign Lemipil and a few others,” continued the new Andorian security chief, “we’re new to this ship and new to each other.” Jonin looked at the 38 faces. All of them looked rather young. Most of them were only crewmen. None were war veterans. He went on, “But we are now the guardians of this ship and the people on it. It’s up to us to keep them safe…and by gods, they will be. Because we are going to train until we become an outstanding fighting team.” He paused and saw everything from trepidation to excitement. “I’m going to have bi-weekly drills. The scenarios will run the gamut from ship to ship combat, to repelling borders, to colony defense. Any questions? …No? Then report to your shift team leader.”
As the personnel rearranged into smaller groups, Ensign Folana Lemipil, a Zakdorn female, approached him. “Sir,” she started, “I want to make you aware of a possible safety concern with one of our officers, Lieutenant Commander Ethan Windslow, the chief engineer.”
His antennae perked up, “What do you mean?”
She told the tale of the incident at Pentath III and Windslow’s subsequent court-martial.
Faltyne listened intently. When Lemipil was done, he asked, “Why are you telling me this, Ensign?”
“Well, sir,” she started, “I just wanted you to know about Commander ‘Runs…’” She corrected, “Commander Windslow’s…disposition. It would be risky to have him on an away team, sir.”
The Andorian nodded understandingly, “Thank you for your opinion, Ensign, but I prefer to make my own judgments.”
The cool reception to her advice caused the Zakdorn to stiffen up, “Yes, sir.”
*****
Supplemental
IKS Jev’Iw, First Officer’s Chamber
Orbiting Fu’puk II
“It’s been four days, Yaava,” complained Alexander, “More than enough time for Starfleet to get here.” He sat in an uncomfortable metal chair and surmised, “They may not be coming.”
His mate walked behind him and began to massage his shoulders, “We did what we could, Alex.”
“It’s not right.” He tugged at his Klingon armor, “I don’t belong in this. I never should have joined.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered, “I know how you feel. The warrior caste has all but consumed our culture, but there is still honor in us. …You are an example of that.”
He huffed, “‘Honor’…it’s just propaganda. A rallying cry for us to do what the powerful wants.”
Yaava straightened up, “Do not become bitter, loD. Honor still means something to a great many Klingons. Change will come.”
He placed his hand over hers, “I hope so.”
*****
Supplemental
USS Independence, Transporter Room One
Holding Station with USS Perseus
“So whacha gonna do here?” questioned Treasure to the Perseus’ helm officer as they stepped off the transporter dais.
The junior Lieutenant, Yitzhak Shalev, responded, “Simple, I’ve never been aboard a Steamrunner class ship. I hear they have a large officers’ lounge.”
“Yeah,” she observed, “it’d be nice to have one of those. Too bad Hobson doesn’t open the Captain’s Mess unless it’s for an official function.”
“What about you? Where are you heading?”
“Engineering,” she said as they entered to corridor. “Steamrunners have unique warp-field geometry. Besides, it’s always a good idea to chat it up with fellow engineers. Ya neve’ know what you might learn, sugar. Wanna tag along?”
“I don’t know,” Shalev began, “If I transfer to another division, I thought it’d be security; not engineering.”
“Aw come on,” she pressed, “when I’m done, I’ll join you in the lounge.”
He sighed and resigned, “Alright, I guess. I just hope I’ll be able to understand all the shoptalk.”
*****
Lieutenant Angela “Treasure” Barrows rounded the corner to see the warp core. The Class-V M/AM Drive pulsed rhythmically. It was a much older model than the Perseus’ Class-IX, but it was a proven engine.
Barrows immediately noticed the lack of enthusiasm in engineering. People moved around and tended to their duties, but there was an overall feeling of the doldrums. It could be just an off day for the crew…or it could be a simple difference in command style. She was after all, a rather laid back section chief.
A tanned young man approached her with short, brown hair approached them, “I’m Crewman Jackson, can I help you?”
“I’m Lieutenant Barrows and this is Lieutenant Shalev from the Perseus. I was wonderin’ if I could talk to your chief engineer.”
“Oh … well the Commander should be in the master control office on the upper level.” He pointed up, “Just up that lift and to the left. You’ll see it.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” she offered with a warm smile. She and the helm officer made their way to the control station.
Once on the upper level, the duo saw a middle-aged man with reddish-gray hair through a transparent bulkhead. He didn’t look up at them. Yitzhak glimpsed the chief engineer’s face. There was something vaguely familiar about him. He knew the face from somewhere, but he was sure he’d never met the man.
The Perseus chief engineer rapped on the open door frame, “Commander?”
He regarded the visitors, “Yes.”
“I’m the chief engineer of the Perseus, Angela Barrows.”
A genuine smile formed on the Independence engineer, “So you get to work with a swirl intermix chamber?”
She grinned back, “Yes sir, they sure can be touchy.”
“I know,” he said as he got up, “the last ship I was on had one.” He extended a hand, “I’m Ethan Windslow.”
“Nice to me…” she started.
“Windslow,” interrupted Shalev, “formerly captain of the Bismarck, Windslow?”
The smile died. Windslow cleared his throat. He knew where the conversation was going. It had happened before. It seemed every station they went to, every Starfleet ship they encountered, at least one person had heard of him and what he had done. Months ago, he accepted it as his curse. He admitted, “That’s right.”
Yitzhak’s face became red and his jaw clenched, “I was on the Border Cutter Merlin during the war. We were tasked out to the Second Fleet. I remember seeing your ship in formation.”
Ethan avoided his eyes, emotionally preparing himself for the latest attack.
The Eretz Israel native gave Windslow a look that was filled with nothing but contempt and he uttered, “Nearly everyone on my ship was killed by the Jem’hadar! My captain fought to the very end! But not you. You left your crew to die.”
Treasure protested, “Yitzhak!”
Still breathing heavy, he calmed down slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, Lieutenant...” Shalev exited the area without further comment. As he left, a non-com who overheard the exchange gave him an approving nod.
“I’m sorry, Commander,” Barrows offered.
He held up a hand and lied, “It’s alright, Lieutenant. I’m getting used to it.”
“Well I, for one, don’t share his feelings.” An awkward silence followed. She decided to change the subject and gestured to the displays, “What temperature do you run your pre-stage flux chiller at?”
Windslow appreciated her efforts and offered her a seat.
END OF CHAPTER 7
Nicely done. You did a good job capturing both Yitzhak and Treasure here, and I liked how you portrayed Alexander's disgust with his fellow Klingon's concept of "honor" here.
I guess Windslow will carry that albatross around his neck for the rest of his life. Great scenes in this segment and wonderful character interaction!
Nice to see the differences that exist are not solely among the captains but the comparative department heads. Cool to see the characters survey their compatriots on other ships and to see the feelings they form. Also the fact that the chances for heads to butt are not solely amongst the commanding officers alone.
The conflict Alexander is facing is also a rich vein of material and his future actions and motivations could lead in a myriad of directions. Looking forward to where ...
The conflict Alexander is facing is also a rich vein of material and his future actions and motivations could lead in a myriad of directions. Looking forward to where ...
I like it so far. I love the Klingon stories. I hope Worf and Martok become the honorable Klingons we know and love and show Alexander there is hope for the Empire.
I have to say that among my favorite segments are those when we get a chance to see two different crews interact with each other. And you've done such a splendid job here to create consensus and tension between the Persus and Indy personnel.
This is a lot of fun to read and a sign of things yet to come. Well done!
This is a lot of fun to read and a sign of things yet to come. Well done!
CHAPTER 8
Supplemental
USS Independence, Deck Three
Holding Station with USS Perseus
Kimula stood for several seconds in hesitation. Her antennae twitched nervously. She raised her hand to the enunciator only to pull it away. “This is ridiculous,” she said to no one. “Who cares what he thinks?”
She began to move down the corridor. After a few steps, she paused and took a breath. “You’re a stupid…stupid…,” she said in a hushed tone. The Andorian went back to the door and announced herself.
The hatch parted to reveal Jonin. He seemed perplexed to see the counselor, “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”
She didn’t edit her thoughts, “I just wanted you to know, I’m not elitist in the slightest. I never even thought about the old class system when I grew up. It was just -- I was raised by a very…old fashioned matriarch and I never even thought anything about it. If you get to know me, you’ll find out I’m one of the least traditional people around here. And I guess, in the back of my mind, I always knew about some of the old stereotypes and prejudices -- but I’ve never had to really deal with it before… And why I’m I apologizing for your preconceived ideas? You’re the one who got this off to a bad start, not me.”
Faltyne paused longer than he should have. It was more to make sure she was done talking than thinking about his response. He stated in a matter of fact manner, “You’re right, counselor. I was born of the labor class and I assumed something before getting to know you.”
The answer fully satisfied Kimula to the point of causing a twinge of guilt. “Oh. Well, ok.” She offered a hand, “Fresh start?”
Jonin nodded and took it, “Agreed.”
*****
The contorted shape of a Defiant class vessel dropped from warp near the Steamrunner and Intrepid. The Destrier glided abreast of them.
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Deck One, Conference Lounge
Holding station with USS Destrier and Independence
Lieutenant Commander Devon Miller entered the room, “They’re onboard and Commander Rysyl is guiding them here.”
The Iceman sat at the head of the table, a starscape behind him, “Very well.”
“Sir,” ventured Miller, “is this meeting to include the senior staff?”
Hobson looked up. Miller always wanted to be in the loop, even when it wasn’t his place. The captain assumed it was associated with his ambitious personality. “No, not yet. This initial meeting is only for captains and first officers.”
Though, disappointed, Miller curtsied, “Aye sir.” He left.
Moments later, Anara entered the meeting chamber and stepped to the side. Four other people followed her in, two males of moderate build and two females. Both women had a tropical complexion and a sober face. One female was rather small and petite, with smooth, black hair. The other had ash blonde hair, and was taller.
Captain Hobson stood in anticipation of the introductions.
Anara began, “Captain Hobson, this is Captain Kojo and Commander Marcus Bolden of the Destrier.”
The Perseus captain nodded in respect, “Captain, Commander.”
“And Captain Aurelia and her first officer, Lieutenant Commander bin Nadal,” the Deltan finished.
Hobson gestured and said, “Please, everyone, take a seat.”
Anara took the immediate seat right of Hobson. Right of her was Kojo and Bolden. To the left sat Aurelia and bin Nadal.
The Latina captain started, “So what’s this all about, Hobson?”
The Iceman raised an eyebrow in moderate irritation at her lack of courtesy. He let it slide and explained, “I’ve been in contact with a Klingon officer in the nearby system. He said he was part of a task force sent there to conquer the people of the second planet.”
“Klingons conquer planets on a regular basis.” observed Kojo.
“True,” he continued, “but never this close to the Federation. He also claims the Klingons are committing atrocities there: raping, indiscriminate murders; in short, war crimes.”
The Persian leaned in, “Does this planet have relations with the Federation?”
“No,” answered Rysyl, “It’s a pre-warp civilization.” She added, “And it’s in unclaimed space.”
Aurelia shrugged her shoulders, “So what can we do about it.”
The first officer of the Destrier, Bolden, seemed much less intense than his captain, “This is all hearsay. We can’t act on the information from one Klingon officer.”
“Who is this officer?” questioned the Kriosian captain.
Hobson handed a padd to everyone with more on his answer, “His name is Alexander, son of Worf.”
“The son of Worf?” repeated Kojo in surprise and admiration. “Worf has a reputation for being a meritorious man.”
Hobson nodded in the affirmative and continued, “I think you all know the significance of who his father is; if you don’t, this information will explain it.”
“If his transmission to you was discovered,” Kojo stated, “he is surely dead by now. No captain or second officer would tolerate his actions.”
The Independence captain commented, “I still don’t get what we’re supposed to do about it.”
“I’ve contacted Starfleet Command,” Hobson said, “Apparently, this has become a bit of a hot button issue. The Federation Council is debating what to do about it.”
Bolden assessed, “So it’s out of our pay grade.”
“Not entirely,” the Perseus captain continued, “Command wants its own intelligence. We are to go into the system and look into Alexander’s claims.”
Kojo gave a morbid chuckle, “And if the Klingons do not want you to look in to it?”
“That’s why I wanted assistance,” he admitted.
Concerned, Karim asked, “At what cost are we going to confirm this, sir?”
Hobson made eye contact with his peers as he said as meaningfully as he could, “We are, of course, going to avoid a confrontation.”
The room was silent. Everyone contemplated the odds of avoiding combat. Most concluded: not good.
Reluctantly, the Iceman regarded the Kriosian, “You have the tactically superior ship, Captain Kojo. How we proceed is up to you.”
She received the news with out a visible response, though internally, she was taken aback. She initially assessed Hobson as a typical starship captain – someone who liked to be in control. She included herself in that category. It took a man of integrity to volunteer the fact of his subordinate status -- despite the regulations. Aurelia, on the other hand, had a look of mild irritation. Her respect for the Perseus captain upped a few notches. Kojo finally said, “I was a subject of the Klingon Empire for most of my life,” she stated, “My people fought a rebellion against them for years. I know how they can be. Some do not take the teaching of Kahless to heart.” Her tone turned cold, “If they are acting without honor on that planet, we will discover it. They desecrate the memory of all the great warriors that came before them.”
END OF CHAPTER 8
Supplemental
USS Independence, Deck Three
Holding Station with USS Perseus
Kimula stood for several seconds in hesitation. Her antennae twitched nervously. She raised her hand to the enunciator only to pull it away. “This is ridiculous,” she said to no one. “Who cares what he thinks?”
She began to move down the corridor. After a few steps, she paused and took a breath. “You’re a stupid…stupid…,” she said in a hushed tone. The Andorian went back to the door and announced herself.
The hatch parted to reveal Jonin. He seemed perplexed to see the counselor, “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”
She didn’t edit her thoughts, “I just wanted you to know, I’m not elitist in the slightest. I never even thought about the old class system when I grew up. It was just -- I was raised by a very…old fashioned matriarch and I never even thought anything about it. If you get to know me, you’ll find out I’m one of the least traditional people around here. And I guess, in the back of my mind, I always knew about some of the old stereotypes and prejudices -- but I’ve never had to really deal with it before… And why I’m I apologizing for your preconceived ideas? You’re the one who got this off to a bad start, not me.”
Faltyne paused longer than he should have. It was more to make sure she was done talking than thinking about his response. He stated in a matter of fact manner, “You’re right, counselor. I was born of the labor class and I assumed something before getting to know you.”
The answer fully satisfied Kimula to the point of causing a twinge of guilt. “Oh. Well, ok.” She offered a hand, “Fresh start?”
Jonin nodded and took it, “Agreed.”
*****
The contorted shape of a Defiant class vessel dropped from warp near the Steamrunner and Intrepid. The Destrier glided abreast of them.
*****
Supplemental
USS Perseus, Deck One, Conference Lounge
Holding station with USS Destrier and Independence
Lieutenant Commander Devon Miller entered the room, “They’re onboard and Commander Rysyl is guiding them here.”
The Iceman sat at the head of the table, a starscape behind him, “Very well.”
“Sir,” ventured Miller, “is this meeting to include the senior staff?”
Hobson looked up. Miller always wanted to be in the loop, even when it wasn’t his place. The captain assumed it was associated with his ambitious personality. “No, not yet. This initial meeting is only for captains and first officers.”
Though, disappointed, Miller curtsied, “Aye sir.” He left.
Moments later, Anara entered the meeting chamber and stepped to the side. Four other people followed her in, two males of moderate build and two females. Both women had a tropical complexion and a sober face. One female was rather small and petite, with smooth, black hair. The other had ash blonde hair, and was taller.
Captain Hobson stood in anticipation of the introductions.
Anara began, “Captain Hobson, this is Captain Kojo and Commander Marcus Bolden of the Destrier.”
The Perseus captain nodded in respect, “Captain, Commander.”
“And Captain Aurelia and her first officer, Lieutenant Commander bin Nadal,” the Deltan finished.
Hobson gestured and said, “Please, everyone, take a seat.”
Anara took the immediate seat right of Hobson. Right of her was Kojo and Bolden. To the left sat Aurelia and bin Nadal.
The Latina captain started, “So what’s this all about, Hobson?”
The Iceman raised an eyebrow in moderate irritation at her lack of courtesy. He let it slide and explained, “I’ve been in contact with a Klingon officer in the nearby system. He said he was part of a task force sent there to conquer the people of the second planet.”
“Klingons conquer planets on a regular basis.” observed Kojo.
“True,” he continued, “but never this close to the Federation. He also claims the Klingons are committing atrocities there: raping, indiscriminate murders; in short, war crimes.”
The Persian leaned in, “Does this planet have relations with the Federation?”
“No,” answered Rysyl, “It’s a pre-warp civilization.” She added, “And it’s in unclaimed space.”
Aurelia shrugged her shoulders, “So what can we do about it.”
The first officer of the Destrier, Bolden, seemed much less intense than his captain, “This is all hearsay. We can’t act on the information from one Klingon officer.”
“Who is this officer?” questioned the Kriosian captain.
Hobson handed a padd to everyone with more on his answer, “His name is Alexander, son of Worf.”
“The son of Worf?” repeated Kojo in surprise and admiration. “Worf has a reputation for being a meritorious man.”
Hobson nodded in the affirmative and continued, “I think you all know the significance of who his father is; if you don’t, this information will explain it.”
“If his transmission to you was discovered,” Kojo stated, “he is surely dead by now. No captain or second officer would tolerate his actions.”
The Independence captain commented, “I still don’t get what we’re supposed to do about it.”
“I’ve contacted Starfleet Command,” Hobson said, “Apparently, this has become a bit of a hot button issue. The Federation Council is debating what to do about it.”
Bolden assessed, “So it’s out of our pay grade.”
“Not entirely,” the Perseus captain continued, “Command wants its own intelligence. We are to go into the system and look into Alexander’s claims.”
Kojo gave a morbid chuckle, “And if the Klingons do not want you to look in to it?”
“That’s why I wanted assistance,” he admitted.
Concerned, Karim asked, “At what cost are we going to confirm this, sir?”
Hobson made eye contact with his peers as he said as meaningfully as he could, “We are, of course, going to avoid a confrontation.”
The room was silent. Everyone contemplated the odds of avoiding combat. Most concluded: not good.
Reluctantly, the Iceman regarded the Kriosian, “You have the tactically superior ship, Captain Kojo. How we proceed is up to you.”
She received the news with out a visible response, though internally, she was taken aback. She initially assessed Hobson as a typical starship captain – someone who liked to be in control. She included herself in that category. It took a man of integrity to volunteer the fact of his subordinate status -- despite the regulations. Aurelia, on the other hand, had a look of mild irritation. Her respect for the Perseus captain upped a few notches. Kojo finally said, “I was a subject of the Klingon Empire for most of my life,” she stated, “My people fought a rebellion against them for years. I know how they can be. Some do not take the teaching of Kahless to heart.” Her tone turned cold, “If they are acting without honor on that planet, we will discover it. They desecrate the memory of all the great warriors that came before them.”
END OF CHAPTER 8
Very nicely done. We're beginning to see how the personalities of the various captains are going to come together here.
I enjoyed the interaction between the three crews, particularly between Hobson, Aurelia and Kojo - three very different types! Hopefully they can overlook their differences as they investigate the Klingon invasion.
And I think it goes without saying the the Klingons will respond when three Starfleet vessels show up!
And I think it goes without saying the the Klingons will respond when three Starfleet vessels show up!
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