Dark Territory: Fall Out

[DarKush]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Once again, thank everyone for reading and commenting. I will say that one of the things that makes me reluctant about writing canon characters is my concern that I won't do them justice. With Picard's decision to use the prefix codes, I can see how that might not fit with within the proper realm of Picard's actions, or it might seem drastic. However, I see the Picard v. Aurelia thing as almost like a generational struggle and Picard wanted to check, or spank if you will, the upstart Aurelia. He wanted to get her attention and using the prefix codes was a way for him to say hold your horses, I've got a bit more experience than you do. Of course this doesn't do anything but piss Aurelia off more.

I also wanted to use the prefix codes because I loved that scene in TWOK.

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

*****

Outside the Federation Embassy
Alshain Proper


The crowd that survived the blast didn’t know whether to cheer, cry, or curse the screaming ships that blew past them. A large hologram of Chairman C’Oemnm rose to the heavens. Decked in white and gold-inlaid robes, he looked as regal as the Exarch himself, and the words he spoke were the first address he had made to the people since he had overthrow their revered leader.

The hologram said, clearly and boldly, “Today we take our destiny in our own hands! Today we remove forever the chains that have bound us. It was Jedalla that entered into an alliance with the Federation, and it was for this reason that had to be removed before he made us their vassals. With this blow, we declare before the entire Quadrant and the gods themselves that we choose our own destiny!” He roared, and many in the crowd followed suit.

Still atop the tank, Dowager Managa shook her head. “The fools,” she spat. But what truly could she expect from the rabble? They were so easily swayed with their small minds. “How dare he blame my son for his failures!” But none of her once ardent followers were paying attention to her. They were looking at the smoking crater where the Federation Embassy used to be. They were savoring the war to come.

“Fools,” Managa said again, before hopping off the tank. She was making her way through the crowd when she heard the Howlers circling back.

*****

Ministry of State, Central Ministries Complex Arcology
Alshain Proper


Chairman C’Oemnm stepped off the holopad. He had to admit that he enjoyed his rousing speech, and the feedback appeared surprisingly positive. His concern about the gullibility of his people was overmatched by his need for occasional adulation.

“That went better than expected,” C’Oemnm said. “The crowd appears to be taking my message to heart. Do you think putting them to sleep is really necessary now?” He asked L’Bek.

The woman’s plump fingers formed a pyramid on the desk, a sign that she was in deep contemplation. “Yes,” she said softly, but firmly. “It must be done.”

*****

USS Defiant
Alshain Proper

“Time to earn your paycheck Ensign Hetis,” Admiral Covey ducked a sparking cable that swung by her head.

“Uh sir,” the Boslic helm officer replied, “The Federation is a moneyless economy now.”

“I know that,” Covey replied. “Just get us back to DS9 in one piece.” Despite Hetis’s best efforts, and Monica was impressed how well the young officer handled the starship, there were too many Howler’s. Hetis could zig one, but not zag another one before it unleashed another volley against the Defiant’s shields.

“What’s our status?” Covey squinted, the acrid fumes of smoke encircling the bridge stinging her eyes.

“Not good,” Lt. Commander Curbeam laconically replied.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Our shields are down to 45%, the warp engine is offline, cloaking device is too, but we do have impulse power and a half-functional weapons bank,” Lt. Okala replied, her voice tinged with hysteria. Covey now regretted bringing the young woman along. She was still mourning the death of Lt. Easun, the Defiant’s former Tactical Officer.

“Some rescue,” Covey griped. “But we’re not done yet. Ensign Hetis turn us around. If we’re going to go out, it might as well be in a blaze of glory. When we’re about, Mr. Curbeam unload every damn thing we’ve got!”

****

Outside the Federation Embassy
Alshain Proper


The Howlers screamed overhead, the crowd below pumping their fists in exultation. Trapped among them, her high status all but forgotten, Dowager Managa felt a fine mist sprinkle on her pelt. It felt almost like rain.

Except it didn’t evaporate, it started to slowly itch, then burn. The Dowager wiped at her arm, trying to remove whatever it was, but it was no use. She looked around, opening her mouth to ask for help, but she could no longer speak. Something was choking her. Managa realized she wasn’t the only one. Other members in the throng were clutching their throats, digging into their skin, while more where pitching forward, convulsing on the ground. The crowd panicked, tossing, and running into and over one another, trying to escape from whatever it was that had befallen them.

Jostled, and knocked to the ground, Managa could only wheeze when a heavy boot crushed her hand. She looked up to see the assailant, but her eyesight wavered before going dark. Blind, battered, her breath coming in labored rasped, her body on fire, the Dowager realized with a morbid satisfaction that C’Oemnm was the cause of this. The man who the people had chosen Jedalla over had murdered them. These fools get what they deserve, she thought right before her lungs imploded.

****

Ministry of State, Central Ministries Complex Arcology
Alshain Proper


“My gods!” C’Oemnm exclaimed, whipping around to glare at the rest of the Committee. “What have you done? That’s not axonol!”

“No, it isn’t,” L’Bek said matter-of-factly. “It’s Draxat-5.”

“You used chemical weapons on our own people!” C’Oemnm lurched toward the hefty woman, rage encumbering his steps.

“No, you ordered the release of the Draxat-5.” L’Bek said with a smile. “Or at least that is what everyone will think.”

“How-how could you?” C’Oemnm spread his hands, flexing them as he approached L’Bek. He could already feel his hands choking the life from the fetid woman. She remained seated, her smile now a blithely arrogant smirk.

“Someone has to take the fall for this,” L’Bek said. “Think of it. There won’t be war if the Federation believes that you, driven by madness, acted alone. The tragedy today could also allow us to unify our people against Jedalla.”

“No,” C’Oemnm said. “How could you be so monstrous?” He stood over L’Bek, his hands flexing.

She casually looked up at him. “You don’t have the guts to kill me. You lost the killer instinct long ago,” she sneered.

“Watch me,” C’Oemnm slashed the woman’s throat with one claw, her blood spurting over his white and gold robes of state. He didn’t have long to luxuriate in the feeling of revenge however. A pain flared up his spine, and Orthlin crumpled to the floor. He futilely reached for the dagger he knew was in his back, but strong hands batted his away. And then they turned him over, pressing his back hard into the floor, driving the knife through him. C’Oemnm looked down at the tip poking out of his abdomen. He didn’t know where L’Bek’s blood began and his ended.

“Thank you for taking care of L’Bek for me,” T’Riav glared down at him, a manic grin on his face. K’Phrey stood beside him, another knife clutched in his paw. “Though I will miss her. We couldn’t have done any of this without her. Her sacrifice at the hands of the Orthlin the Insane will not be forgotten.”

C’Oemnm spit out blood. He glanced around wildly. “G’Nesh,” he pleaded, “G’Nesh.”

“I am here Orthlin,” the woman whispered. She kneeled before him. He grasped her hands, holding them to his slowing heart.

“Don’t let them win,” he gasped.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her tears splashing against his face. “But I must think of my Sept, and my entire clan now.” She reached up and took the dagger from K’Phrey. “Please know that this will unify our people. It’s the will of the gods however that you won’t live to see it.”

“G’Nesh,” he wheezed before the woman plunged the knife into his heart.
*****

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

*****

USS Enterprise-E
(Main Bridge)


Captain Picard was intrigued by the stunned look on his counterpart’s face. “Captain Picard…,” Sutahr B’Har said slowly, “I have been ordered to inform you that the Federation Embassy on Alshain Proper was destroyed in a terrorist action.”

Picard stood up from his seat. “How many casualties?” He said, after a few seconds of trying to muzzle his shock.

“Initial reports indicate that over three hundred lives were lost,” B’Har replied. “However, it appears that Ambassador Depek and much of his staff were rescued by the Starship Defiant.”

“Defiant?” Picard asked, almost stunned into silence. “What was the Defiant doing there?”

“As if you need to ask,” B’Har smiled conspiratorially. “Well played Captain. The War Ministry has advised me to maintain the blockade until the Defiant reaches us. I’m sure you will receive more information at that time.”

Picard nodded absently, his mind still trying to accept the three hundred deaths that might’ve been prevented if B’Har hadn’t impeded his mission. After B’Har’s image had been replaced by the scarred starboard side of her vessel, the captain handed off the conn to Commander Riker.

He forced himself not to stumble towards his Ready Room. There, he contacted to Starfleet Command to inform them of B’Har’s news and to see what new information they might have for him. He was hoping against hope that B’Har’s news was another feint. Fifteen minutes later, he dreadfully learned otherwise.

*****

USS Defiant
Alshain Proper


“This is some type of joke,” Admiral Covey stood in front of her seat on the ruined bridge.

“I assure you there is very little levity here at this moment,” Chairman Rulf T’Riav said, his voice thick with sadness. “There has been too much blood shed today. For the loss of your Embassy, we offer our deepest apologies and will provide reasonable restitution.”

“ ‘Reasonable restitution’?” Ambassador Depek scoffed. “For almost four hundred lives?”

“We truly are sorry,” T’Riav offered again.

“I don’t buy it,” Covey said. “Orthlin C’Oemnm was one of the most level-headed ministers I dealt with during the war, no offense. The idea of him going insane, ordering the destruction of a Federation Embassy, releasing chemical weapons on his own people, murdering a member of your committee; that just sounds preposterous.”

T’Riav nodded, his expression empathetic. “The last few weeks have been very stressful. Orthlin carried tremendous burdens. Any person would eventually succumb.”

“Umm hmm,” Covey nodded her head, her disbelief apparent. “Well, Chairman if you don’t mind I would like to send a team down to investigate the remains at the embassy…for my debriefing report of course.”

“That’s not necessary,” T’Riav said. “Orthlin was the culprit. He is dead. If any new information arises, we will be sure to let you know.”

“The Embassy grounds are considered Federation property,” Ambassador Depek said.

“There is no Federation property on Alshain Proper!” T’Riav’s eyes smoldered, but he took a more conciliatory tack seconds later. “The presence of Starfleet personnel so soon after this tragedy would not augur well for future relations between our nations. My people are scared, paranoid. They might blame you for the gassing.”

The Admiral nodded. She couldn’t deny that T’Riav made a point. “You might have a point there,” she finally conceded.

He smiled. “Thank you Admiral. In happier times Orthlin spoke highly of you. Now I understand why. Just as I called back the ships he had sent to destroy you, I have informed the Origin Fleet to give you safe passage. You can rendezvous with the Enterprise at the edge of the Origin Sector.”

Still not completely convinced, but unable to put all the pieces together, Covey forced herself to let it go. After the ship was underway, she said aloud to no one in particular, “I’m really getting tired of this intrigue crap. For once I would like to have an enemy I can hit. Where are the Jem’Hadar when you need them?”
****

Unnamed Planetoid
(Launch Bay)
Somewhere in Sector 443…


Nardin sin Phalzan accustomed himself to the captain’s chair. He was a trouble shooter of sorts for the Domain, and the experience of mastering a vessel was new to him. He intended to savor the trip back to Phalkeria, as he imagined himself at the head of the war fleet that would rid the galaxy of the Yashk’ani forever.

He closed his eyes, allowing his fantasies to take hold as the Valour gracefully lifted out of the launch bay. Seconds later, a soft thrumming pulled him from his daydream. Beams of light were materializing before him.

He reached for the pistol at his side, but stopped when a gleaming knife blade tickled his throat. He stared up into the wild eyes of a naked, humanoid female.

“Captain Kojo I presume,” he said carefully. She removed the knife from his throat, but before he could react, she rammed her fist into one of his temples.

****
USS Valour
Somewhere in Sector 443…


After she had pulled the deceptively heavy Phalkerian from her chair, Captain Nandali Kojo sat down. The leather seat felt sticky against her backside. Her officers made short work of the other Phalkerians on the bridge. Kojo had rightly guessed that the base’s control room would be sparsely occupied, with the majority of Alshain warriors spread throughout the planetoid searching for them.

It had taken little effort to dispose of the scant group of technicians in the control room. From there, Kojo was able to gain control of the base’s transporter network which she used to beam her crew back onto the Valour.

The captain led the bridge away team. Kojo had beamed a team led by Westin and Lt. Chang to Engineering. She checked with them now.

“All clear,” Westin said. “Didn’t know what hit ‘em.”

And you won’t either, after we’re done with this, Kojo thought. “Excellent work Mr. Westin. Are we warp capable Lt. Chang?”

“Yes sir,” the assistant engineer replied. “The Phalkerians did a pretty good job of patching the old girl up.”

“Thank you,” Kojo said before cutting the link. She leaned forward in her seat. “Mr. Stell, plot a heading the hells away from here. Maximum warp.”

“Sir, we should be able to go to warp as soon as we exit the planetoid’s launch bay,” the Vulcan replied.

“Normally I would concur,” the Kriosian said. “But I think it’s time to inflict a little payback.”

*****
Unnamed Planetoid
Somewhere in Sector 443…

R’Vott’s team and Rog’s paladins reached the control room at the same time. “She did it to us again,” Sutahr Visla R’Vott said, smashing her fist into a console, splintering its glossy plastic finish.

The paladins swept through the room, checking the supine technicians. “They’re dead,” Nadfar Rog said moments later.

“And so are we,” R’Vott’s eyes were glued to the room’s ovoid viewer. She saw the thrusters of the Valour blast fire into the launch bay. “She’s on that ship, and she’s going to go to warp.”

“How do you know?” Rog asked, disbelieving.

“Because it’s what I would do,” R’Vott replied.

“Then we have only minutes?” He asked.

“Seconds,” she replied, already running her fingers across the console in front of her. “The gark has locked us out of our own computer.” She snarled.

“Come,” Rog ordered. His men had already rushed to the lockers adorning the small control room. They were frantically donning pressure suits. One of the warriors threw two to Rog. He handed one to R’Vott. “If we can make it to my interceptors outside I can still make good my promise to the gods.” The sandy-furred Alshain grimly replied.

****

USS Valour
Somewhere in Sector 443…

“Mr. Stell,” Captain Nandali Kojo said with relish, “Light the candle.”

****

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

****

USS Enterprise-E
(Counselor’s Office)


“I guess I can kibosh the homecoming celebration,” Lt. Commander Seb N’Saba dryly remarked. Commander Deanna Troi placed the cup of coffee and tray she had been holding on her table.

“And that troubles you?” She asked in all seriousness, her voice perfectly modulated.

“Wouldn’t it trouble you to be considered lower than flotsam, with your own mate seeing your death as an opportunity for promotion?” N’Saba snapped. “Do you typically ask such asinine questions Counselor?”

The half-Betazoid was taken aback. Her olive skin blanched slightly. “Your anger is very palpable.”

“That’s a revelation,” N’Saba drolly remarked.

“Perhaps not to you, but I have noticed that you often attempt to cover up your fears with acerbic comments or well-timed tantrums. After watching your interaction with the crew for the last several weeks, I’ve come to notice those particular defense mechanisms.” She paused, gazing deeply at him with her penetrating dark eyes. “What are you so terrified of Commander N’Saba?”

He stood up, “I’m through with this! Picard ordered me to talk to you. I did, so at least I can’t be punished for not following orders.” The Alshain stood up.

“Sit down Mr. N’Saba,” Troi said. The Science Officer headed toward the door. “Sit!” she yelled, stopping N’Saba in his tracks. “Need I remind you that I outrank you?” He turned around, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“People have been reminding me of that a lot lately. It’s just another reason I can’t wait for this mission to be over so Starfleet will no longer have any need of my services. I’m sure they’ll be willing to release me then.” He walked back to his seat but he didn’t sit down. The counselor didn’t force the issue. He knew she was just glad he was talking again.

“If you leave Starfleet what will you do? Where will you go?” Troi asked, with real concern in her voice. It briefly touched Seb, but he batted those feelings away.

“I don’t know,” he looked absently out of the window. “Perhaps the Nyberrite Alliance. They seem pretty accepting.”

“Unlike the Alshain,” Troi ventured. Here we go, N’Saba realized, with a sigh.

“I don’t think you need me to see how tolerant the Alshain are, the proof is outside,” he flicked a thumb toward one of the windows in Troi’s office. A copper/red Alshain warship was hanging off the port amidships. “Maybe I’ll return to the Daystrom Institute.”

“I see,” the counselor replied. “Well, at least you’ve got some ideas in mind.” She stood up, “You’re free to leave Mr. N’Saba.”

“Hey, wait a nanosecond; aren’t you supposed to be counseling me?” He replied.

“It’s obvious that you don’t need my help,” Troi replied, “nor do you want it. It would be a waste of time.”

“I thought your type lived for this confessional mumbo jumbo,” N’Saba replied. “I thought your psychoanalysis was supposed to divine the meaning of my existence or something.”

“Not quite,” Troi said. “At best we try to get people accept the circumstances they face realistically, and to change them if they are not satisfied with the status quo. But since you’ve figured everything out…”

“Wait,” N’Saba couldn’t believe he was falling for this, but he couldn’t help himself. “I haven’t figured anything out. I said ‘maybe’ I’ll go here or ‘perhaps’ I’ll do that. There’s nothing definitive.”

“Oh I think there is Mr. N’Saba.” Troi said. “Before this mission you wanted to return to your homeworld.”

“That was before they were out to kill me,” he replied. “You’re not advocating that I traipse into a certain execution.”

“No I would never do that,” the counselor said. “However, can you be certain that every Alshain wants to kill you?”

“How could I be certain of such a thing? There are billions of us running around the galaxy.”

“Then how can you be so certain of your outcome? Why are you so quick to write off your people?”

“You’ve forgotten the recent Briar Patch pogroms already? My people have this little thing about vengeance, punishing wrongdoers.”

“And what exactly was your crime?”

N’Saba hesitated, pondering the question. Outside of abnegating his marriage to Hui what exactly had he done so wrong to elicit the ire of some many of his kin? Yes, he was disfigured, and that made him unworthy of breeding.

However, there were many nobles who also had unworthy scions in their Septs and they weren’t as ostracized. Eventually the only answer he could come up with was the same he always did. “I…guess I aspired to be something else than what I was supposed to be.”

Troi nodded. “And don’t you think perhaps that your people might need a new direction right now?”

N’Saba shook his head in agreement. “I guess so,” he skeptically answered. “I’m a scientist. Not a political leader.”

“Perhaps it’s just one of your many talents yet to be discovered,” Troi smiled.

“Perhaps,” N’Saba returned her smile.
****

USS Enterprise-E
(Main Bridge)


Captain Jean-Luc Picard’s stomach twisted with unease. Though he had discussed this with both Commander N’Saba and Deanna, and he had tried more than once to dissuade the quarrelsome Alshain, the man stood his ground.

Picard had spoken to Starfleet Command on the science officer’s behalf and his resignation had finally been accepted, with a catch. Starfleet Command wasn’t done with N’Saba yet.

With an iron curtain of martial law now hanging over Alshain Proper, the Admiralty needed all the friends behind that veil that they could get. However, Picard was certain that the Alshain would anticipate the admirals’ thinking, and interrogate Mr. N’Saba thoroughly. The captain pushed away painful memories of his own torture at the hands of the sadistic Gul Madred to focus on the task at hand.

“Perhaps the gods still favor me after all?” Sutahr Hui B’Har said. She glanced at Picard. “Captain, you have agreed to remand Commander N’Saba to my ship?”

“Remand implies that Mr. N’Saba has committed some crime,” Picard said, “To my knowledge, and our databanks, he has not.”

“There are more crimes than legal ones,” B’Har retorted. “Still, I promise him safe passage…to Alshain Proper at least.”

“Thank you Sutahr,” N’Saba sounded more formal than Picard had ever heard him. “I look forward to seeing you again.” The man was now dressed in a simple rustic brown tunic and pants, totally at odds with the usual baroque fashion of an Alshain nobleman.

“Don’t make me regret my promise,” the sutahr snapped before oddly smiling at Picard. Her glistening row of teeth made the human nearly flinch. “It’s a pity that Chairman T’Riav called back the Origin Fleet to Alshain Proper. I never got to test myself against the Federation flagship. But I guess there’s always the future.”

“Not any future I care to envision,” Picard said.

“Which merely proves your lack of imagination,” B’Har riposted. “Seb I await you,” she said imperiously.

He bowed to Picard and then to Counselor Troi before standing at full attention. “Captain may I be relieved?”

Picard grasped the man’s furry hand. “Mr. N’Saba you are relieved…good hunting.”

“Captain, you remembered our salutation,” N’Saba said. “There might be hope for your kind after all.”
****

 

[Dnoth]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Lots going on here: new Alshain leadership, Kojo got her ship back, and N'Saba going home...I hope that works out for him.

 

[CeJay]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Is it just me or is Dark Teritory at lot less dark these days. Kojo also manages to over the odds (and butt-naked too) to reclaim her ship. This comes to a great relief to me but of course things are not over yet, are they?

I really enjoy the political intrigue and power play on Alshain. I believe your stories are at their best when you develop your original elements further.

Well done and looking forward to more.

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

CeJay said:
Is it just me or is Dark Teritory at lot less dark these days. Kojo also manages to over the odds (and butt-naked too) to reclaim her ship. This comes to a great relief to me but of course things are not over yet, are they?

I really enjoy the political intrigue and power play on Alshain. I believe your stories are at their best when you develop your original elements further.

Well done and looking forward to more.

Well, I guess it depends on what your definition of dark is. In this story alone so far the Valour has been destroyed, the Meharry attacked, a Federation Embassy leveled, hundreds if not thousand of Alshain protesters have been murdered, both an Alshain Syndic and Chairman C'Oemnm has been assassinated. It's been a pretty intense ride so far and this is only part three. I still have to post parts four and five.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Coups and coups within coups as the Alahain leadership engages in a struggle for dominance. Sounds like Kojo has prepared a real ugly surprise for her former captors--you know what they say about payback...

Very well done--Dark Territory is definitely back with a bang here!

 

[CeJay]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

DarKush said:

CeJay said:
Is it just me or is Dark Teritory at lot less dark these days. Kojo also manages to over the odds (and butt-naked too) to reclaim her ship. This comes to a great relief to me but of course things are not over yet, are they?

I really enjoy the political intrigue and power play on Alshain. I believe your stories are at their best when you develop your original elements further.

Well done and looking forward to more.

Well, I guess it depends on what your definition of dark is. In this story alone so far the Valour has been destroyed, the Meharry attacked, a Federation Embassy leveled, hundreds if not thousand of Alshain protesters have been murdered, both an Alshain Syndic and Chairman C'Oemnm has been assassinated. It's been a pretty intense ride so far and this is only part three. I still have to post parts four and five.

You are right of course, the body count here is immense.

But interestingly enough mass murder is never as troubling or moving as intense personal anguish. In fiction that is. But I'm glad that the people I've started to care about have been pulling through so far.

 

[Dulak]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

OK, I must admit that I was suprised at the comment on 'Less Dark.' The whole story line seems to be leading to something very dark indeed..But I guess I'll have to go back and read the older stories to get the overall perspective.

I couldn't help thinking..man can't the Federation ever get a break, the Borg, the Dominion and now intrigue with the Alshain...

 

[DarKush]

Part Four: Day of Reckoning

*****

Part Four: Day of Reckoning


IKS Kajh
(Main Bridge)
Somewhere in Sector 443…


“Alter course,” Jedalla snapped after he reread the message from Sutahr R’Vott.

“I have my orders,” Brigadier Qorb replied, though with less than his usual vehemence.

“Your orders mean nothing now,” Jedalla countered. “There is no longer a base to regroup at. Everything is falling apart! This is what happens when one is surrounded by incompetents.”

Brigadier Qorb pursed his lips, considering the alternatives. The planetoid base he was supposed to deliver Jedalla had been destroyed by the Federation starship the Alshain were supposed to deliver to the Phalkerians as a down payment for a more permanent base in which Jedalla could strike at his enemies currently ruling the Exarchate. This meant that the Phalkerians were not likely to honor their part of the agreement and might even turn hostile.

The collapse of Jedalla’s countercoup would imperil Lorath’s own plan to unseat Chancellor Martok. This Qorb could not abide. He could care less what happened to Jedalla or his whole damnable race. But Jedalla might still prove useful, if he could salvage this disaster his subjects had made.

“All right Exarch,” Qorb said, “Where do we go?”

“Yashk’lin IV,” Jedalla said. The Klingon thought as much. “It’s time I drew blood.”
****


USS Gibraltar
(In Orbit of Yashk’lin IV)


“Pell,” Jasmine Glover called cheerfully as she stepped off the transporter pad. Both women embraced. “It’s only been a few weeks but it feels like years.”

“Tell me about it,” Pell Ojana replied. She knew her time in the Briar Patch had left her a bit haggard, and Jasmine looked a little beaten up herself. But the Bajoran would never tell her that. “I’ve heard all the stories about your heroics.”

“Damn, news travels fast huh?” Jasmine said, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Pell asked. The engineer shrugged.

“Well…to be honest,” Jasmine lowered her voice. “I just don’t want to get them to get the idea that I’m some sort of miracle worker. Because what if they come to rely on me and I can’t deliver.”

The older Bajoran threw her arm around Jasmine’s shoulders. “Listen Jasmine, they already rely on you. Responsibility isn’t such a bad thing.”

“I know, but sometimes it feels…like a strait jacket you know,” the sepia-toned woman confided.

“Is that how you feel about Terrence?” Pell asked without thinking. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right.” Jasmine said. “I know you’re the one person I can talk to about Terrence that can give me honest feedback.”

“Why…thank you Jasmine,” Pell replied, flattered. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

“I didn’t at first,” she admitted with a shy smile. “But I’ve come to see you differently after our time on the Aegis and then at Pacifica.”

“Those two weeks were magnificent,” Pell crowed. “You know, the Gibraltar got sent there to be repaired after our tussle in the Patch. I got a chance to see your parents again.”

“How are they?”

“Doing well, and you know they took a shine to Donald,” Pell said. Jasmine looked askance. “Captain Sandhurst,” Pell added for emphasis. Glover nodded her head, a slow smile of understanding spreading over her face.

“So, I’m not the only one with stories to tell,” she raised her eyebrows mischievously.

“What happens on Pacifica stays on Pacifica,” Pell winked.

“I thought that slogan was for Risa?” Jasmine asked.

The Bajoran shrugged. “Close enough. So, have you ever met Donald?”

“No, I don’t believe I have,” Jasmine said. “I would like to. I know that he and Terrence have a bit of a history.”

“Yeah, but both of them make more out of than it should be,” Pell said. “You know how men are.” Both of the women shared a conspiratorial laugh as they exited the Transporter Room.

****

USS Gibraltar
Detention Center/Interrogation Room


“This is hopeless,” Lt. Ra-Goran muttered after Lt. Pava Lar’ragos sent the latest Alshain prisoner back to their new cell aboard the Gibraltar. Though the Constitution class vessel was smaller than the Meharry its detention center was larger, and could almost accommodate all the Alshain they could capture, with minimal discomfort. Of course Ra-Goran didn’t care much about the comfort of the murderous lupines and Lt. Lar’ragos didn’t appear to be all that concerned either.

“This is a waiting game,” Lar’ragos said with a confidence born of experience. “I really didn’t expect any of the Alshain to open up during their first interrogation second; they’re better trained than that. But what until the twentieth, or fiftieth; wait until the bad food, poor lighting, and cramped living conditions start to get to them, or their hope fades while they’re rotting in some Starfleet stockade, they’ll crack soon enough.”

“Yeah, but someone else will get the glory,” the Efrosian replied, wincing seconds later after he realized he had verbalized his thoughts. Pava’s eyebrows beetled instantly, a look of confusion on his face.

“What did you say lieutenant?” Though they both held the same rank, Lar’ragos had seniority due to his long, impressive years in the uniform. From what little Ra-Goran had learned about him, Pava had turned down countless promotions and even a chance to serve on the Enterprise-E. Ra-Goran would’ve killed for those opportunities.

Then again, Efrosians didn’t live as long as El Aurians. Perhaps Lar’ragos was merely pacing himself. Ra-Goran couldn’t wait, and he knew there was little chance for advancement aboard a medical ship.

“Nothing,” Ra-Goran mumbled, quickly looking down at several of the datapads on the table in front of him.

“Ra-Goran, you’re forgetting I’m an El Aurian,” Pava smirked, tapping one of his ears. “We’re a race of listeners. So, things aren’t going swimmingly aboard the Meharry?”

The young Efrosian glanced up at Lar’ragos. He quickly weighed his options. He didn’t want to be known as a complainer, or someone who wasn’t a team player.

However, Ra-Goran had been dissatisfied with his posting for months and had kept it bottled inside. He admired officers like Lar’ragos, and wanted to be like them. However, with this dead end position slowing his momentum he feared he might not ever get his chance. Perhaps Lar’ragos could give him some pointers, Ra’Goran thought hopefully. He sighed, “Well sir…It’s just…” He paused. Lar’ragos patiently waited him out.

“It’s just that I wanted to be assigned to another ship,” Ra-Goran admitted, and felt sleazy for doing so.

Pava nodded, “I see…go on.”

“I feel I can really contribute more on a larger vessel,” the Efrosian said carefully.

“You mean the Meharry’s a rinky dink posting I take it,” Lar’ragos summed.

“No,” Ra-Goran protested, “Well…”

The El Aurian patted the young man on the shoulder. “I’m going to tell you a secret, something that one of my wisest friends told me a long time ago…even before I joined Starfleet.”

Ra-Goran perked up, eager to hear the aged wisdom. “Terkim once told me that life doesn’t mean anything without friends.”

“I…don’t follow your meaning sir,” Ra-Goran couldn’t quite hide his disappointment with the trite ‘wisdom’ Lar’ragos had just imparted.

“Listen, you’re not too far out of the Academy, so I’m sure you’re full of fire,” the El Aurian said. “But don’t burn too many bridges on the way to the top. The key to a successful career in this business is relationships. And the best way to build them is to do a good job, consistently, wherever you are. You can’t do that if you’ve got your eye constantly on your future. Being so forward focused, you lose out on all the wonderful things that are present in the here and now.”

“I guess that does make sense,” Ra-Goran said after a few minutes of contemplation. “I must ponder it further.”

“Sure,” Lar’ragos patted the man’s shoulder again. “But after a drink.”
****

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Four: Day of Reckoning

****

USS Meharry
Decontamination Chamber


Commander Liana Ramirez had just returned from another tiring round of supervising the dispensing of the anti-viral medicine and now she had to spend up to another hour in a decontamination chamber.

Unfortunately transporter biofilters were only partially effective against Uradai fever. Captain M’Bira had installed a makeshift old style decon chamber aboard her ship.

Each person that had been down to Yashk’lin IV had to go through the chamber before they were allowed passage into the rest of the ship. Captain Sandhurst had tasked Lt. Ashok to set up a temporary chamber onboard Gibraltar for the duration of their stay at Yashk’lin IV. The only thing that was holding back a really foul mood was that she didn’t have to commiserate alone.

“Feels good doesn’t it,” Commander Marc Bolden said as he slathered gel onto one of Liana’s bare thighs. She looked down at him. He looked almost the same as he had at the Academy: average height, well developed muscles and upper arms, low haircut, a neatly trimmed goatee.

It brought back old memories of their friendship, more akin to a rivalry. Liana had wondered from time to time why it had never developed into more. But she had been afraid to ask Marc at the time, and now there were too many years between them.

First Jeff, and now Marc, Ramirez ruminated. Why are all my old ghosts coming out to haunt me?

“Care to elaborate?” She asked, with a hint of coyness.

Oblivious as ever, Bolden replied, “Helping people.” They had both just beamed back from the surface of Yashk’lin IV. There long lines of tattered, emaciated people stood in lines, some supporting each other or carrying loved ones, to await their injection of metazene. “At least it gives the sacrifices we make meaning. It helps put it all in perspective.” The combined crews of the Meharry and Gibraltar were working hard to inject as many people as possible, but it would still take hours until everyone received a dosage.

Liana didn’t want to think about the people out there who didn’t have hours left. She knew that many had died before Gibraltar had arrived at Yashk’lin IV, riding in to save the overwhelmed Meharry. The commander also knew that many more would perish just on the cusp of receiving medicine. It was all so unfair, but hadn’t life always been so?

Bolden seemed to share her melancholy vibe, which was atypical for him. Though after what he had been through recently, she couldn’t fault him for being in a funk. He stood up. Liana slowly raised her tank top, and the man massaged her stomach muscles as he applied more gel. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying,” Ramirez said, trying to stay professional. Throwing powder on her growing itch, she added, “I’m really sorry about what happened to the Valour.”

“I know you are Lee,” he said. Liana had never understood why the man had always called her Lee, as if Liana was too long to pronounce. She thought he did it to annoy her, one tool in his repertoire of moves he employed as they both raced to class valedictorian. She chuckled.

“What is it?” Bolden asked.

“I’m sorry,” Ramirez said. “I’m not making light of your loss. I was just thinking about the Academy. Whatever happened to Cycad?” The Phylosian had beaten both Bolden and Ramirez out for class valedictorian.

“Ricktor Prime. He was skipper of the Grissom.” Bolden sounded frightfully detached.

“Oh,” Liana murmured. “I forgot he got the Grissom. That’s something I should’ve remembered. I’ve done a real bad job keeping in touch with everyone, and up on everything.”

“Don’t I know it?” Marc’s forgiving smile punctured the dark cloud starting to swirl around them. “You’ve been so busy bulling your way to the top.”

“Speak for yourself,” Liana grabbed a glob of gel and began to work on Bolden’s shoulders. “We hold the same rank.”

“I know, but you’ll make captain within a year,” Marc replied.

“From your mouth to the Great Bird’s ear,” Ramirez remarked, only half-jokingly.

“Me…I don’t really care about command anymore. If it comes that’s fine, but it’s no longer the driving purpose of my life.”

Ramirez paused. She looked at him hard. “If this is a Changeling masquerading as Marcus Bolden the jig is up.”

“No,” he laughed. “The war’s made me do a lot of rethinking that’s all.”

“It’s done that for all of us,” Ramirez remarked, thinking of Jeff. “But don’t let it gnaw at you until there’s nothing left. I made a vow to myself to not let it change me completely from the person I used to be. If it does, it’ll be like the Dominion still won, even though they lost.”

Bolden nodded, as he ran a long smear of gel down one of Ramirez’s arms. “You know, you never made this much sense at the Academy.”

“Stick it,” Ramirez replied, punching the man’s rock hard arm.

“That hurt,” Bolden lied. “If we weren’t high-ranking, respectable officers now, I would wrestle you like the old days. I still owe you a whuppin’.” Their rivalry had even extended to the Academy wrestling team. After Liana had bested Bolden she quit the team to return her focus to her studies. He had been yapping about a rematch for years.

“Have a hankering to be 0-2 huh?” Ramirez chided. “Too bad we are high-ranking officers now,” and for the first time in a long time, she truly meant it.
****

 

[DarKush]

Re:

Dulak said:
OK, I must admit that I was suprised at the comment on 'Less Dark.' The whole story line seems to be leading to something very dark indeed..But I guess I'll have to go back and read the older stories to get the overall perspective.

I couldn't help thinking..man can't the Federation ever get a break, the Borg, the Dominion and now intrigue with the Alshain...

Sorry Dulak, but there are no breaks when you enter Dark Territory

 

[Dulak]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

I just realized that you had Troi order a canid, i.e. Alshain to 'SIT' and even stopped him in his 'tracks'

I don't think it was intended but I actually laughed when I read it..


***

“Sit down Mr. N’Saba,” Troi said. The Science Officer headed toward the door. “Sit!” she yelled, stopping N’Saba in his tracks. “Need I remind you that I outrank you?” He turned around, a slow grin spreading across his face.

***

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Bolden and Ramirez do their Trip/T'Pol decontamination imitation. Bolden is a sly dog, isn't he? And it's looking like trouble is headed for the Gibraltar.

Very nicely done--and yes, once I read Dulak's comment and then reread Troi's line, I laughed too.

 

[Dnoth]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Sounds like Ra-Goran is going to get that chance to distinguish himself with the Kalh heading their way.

 

[CeJay]

Re: Part Three: The Great Unraveling

Good stuff (as usual).

But I just would like to make quick mention of your terrific character interactions and dialogue. When your characters speak they feel like they really have something meaningful to say. You also give them plenty of background to truly make them come to life. In my opinion you write some of the best dialogue I've read on this board.

I'm also heavily influenced by having started to read your upcoming work which is also very fascinating. Hopefully I will have some more time to comment on it when I'm done. Time is not on my side these days.

 

[Gibraltar]

Re: Part Four: Day of Reckoning

You've taken very disparate characters and interwoven them seamlessly into a very complex story arc. The Alshain continue to be a menacing and complicated foe, and the various starship crews are struggling just to keep their heads above water here. You’ve got Ramirez down pat, her ambitions as well as her fears and frustrations. Nicely done all the way around.

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Four: Day of Reckoning

Thank you again guys, all of you. You have been very kind with your comments. They are very much appreciated.

Gibraltar,

I'm glad you feel I've captured Ramirez's voice. That's one of the things I fear when writing other people's characters: I want to do right by them since you've been gracious enough to let me borrow them. I will say that once I got going with Ramirez I seemed to write her scenes pretty easy. She was one of the easiest characters to write for in this story.

Cejay,

Wow! High praise indeed coming from you I'm glad you like the character interaction. To be honest, I enjoy doing that more than the space battles.

 

[DarKush]

Re: Part Four: Day of Reckoning

****

Yashk’lin IV
Refugee Processing Center


“You guys are life savers,” Dr. Elian Paskor smiled at Lt. Issara Taiee, his counterpart on the Gibraltar. “Without the convoy, your medical supplies and our combined replicators have created enough metazene to hold this virus back for another two weeks.” The younger woman blushed.

“Glad we could be of assistance sir,” Taiee said, “I wish we could’ve been there for you sooner.”

The man’s smile slowly faded into a grimace as he remembered the Alshain strike against his ship. “You’re here now and that’s what counts…and don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old.”

“What should I call you then…” Taiee paused, catching herself before she added the honorific.

“How about you call me after the shift is over?” He smiled. “And the name’s Elian.”

“I’m sorry…but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the woman nervously stated. “You’re a superior officer.”

Paskor held up his hands. “Hey, I might be half-Orion, but it doesn’t mean I’m a Lothario.”

“I-I didn’t mean to imply,” Taiee’s face turned beet red. Elian laughed.

“Loosen up Lieutenant, it’s a joke.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, I’m not trying to seduce you, I just wanted to do some shop talk, compare notes in a less restrictive setting,” he said, tapping the hardened plastic faceplate of his biosuit. “In fact, several of my staff will be there.”

“Oh,” Taiee said again, her natural complexion returning behind the faceplate of her own suit. “But sir, I mean Doctor Paskor, why would any of you want to hear what I’ve got to say. You’re the CMO of a medical ship. I’m just a glorified med tech.”

Paskor frowned. “You shouldn’t downplay your accomplishments,” he admonished. “I’ve glanced over your service record. You’ve kept the Gibraltar crew together through some very rough scrapes. Give yourself some credit.”

“Okay,” Issara said, with a deep well of skepticism.

“You’ve got to believe in yourself,” Elian said. “I don’t know Dr. Murakawa personally, but she is well regarded at Starfleet Medical, and she wrote a glowing account of your actions during Taskforce Peacekeeper.” The young woman merely nodded.

“Murakawa doesn’t have a reputation for rewarding incompetence,” Paskor said.

“I know,” Issara rolled her eyes. Denise Murakawa hadn’t been an easy woman to get along with when she temporarily took control of Gibraltar’s medical branch. However, Issara had persevered and the two women had come to mutually respect each others talents by the end of the Briar Patch mission.

“See, I knew you weren’t an automaton.” He smiled. “See you at 0800.”

“It’s…,” Taiee paused, trying to find the right word. Unable to, she shrugged, “It’s a date.”
****

USS Gibraltar
(Main Bridge)


Ensign Brett Lightner rapped his fingers along the smooth edge of the console as he sung off-key.

“Now I see why the 20th century was considered barbaric,” Ensign Kuenre Shanthi, still getting used to his new-well, new to him-and hopefully permanent Science terminal.

Brett turned around in his seat, a hurt expression on his face. “Werewolves of London is a classic,” the young pilot replied, “and a pretty darn appropriate tune with our special guests aboard.”

“Then why don’t you go down to the brig and entertain them for a change,” Shanthi replied with a wry grin. “I’m sure you’ll have better luck getting them to cough up state secrets than even Lt. Lar’ragos.”

“Maybe,” Lightner said, his eyes alight with merriment. “Perhaps I missed my calling.”

“You definitely missed that last note,” Shanthi riposted, causing an uncharacteristic peal of laughter from Operations Officer Olivia Juneau. Brett smiled. He had been sitting beside Olivia for several months now and he couldn’t recall if he had ever heard her laugh before. He decided he liked the sound, and he liked how even more attractive it made her look.

“Hey, I tried out for Federation Idol,” he said.

“And that’s why you’re here,” Shanthi shot back. Brett knew he was going to like this rookie. Despite their sharing the same rank, Shanthi was the newest addition, literally fresh out of the Academy. Kuenre had taken a few bumps on the Briar Patch mission but he seemed to be rebounding well.

“If you guys don’t stop I’ll never get any work done,” Lt. Juneau said. Olivia was currently occupying the center seat, in the absence of the four senior bridge officers. If Lt. Commander Pell Ojana hadn’t been added to the crew’s roster after the last mission, Olivia would’ve been the fourth in the chain of command.

However, she didn’t appear to be put-off by her ‘demotion’. Perhaps she would, or Brett might have been if Pell was anal, but the Bajoran was fitting in quite well. In fact, she seemed to have loosened Captain Sandhurst up and that was a good thing for all considered.

“Captain,” the intense Ensign Hanoj, sitting in Juneau’s resident seat at Ops ruined the mood. The Bolian was a little too into her job for Lightner’s taste. Though Brett considered himself a hard worker and took pride in his job, he made sure not to allow his work to substitute for his life.

Hanoj was the exact opposite. She also seemed to take issue with those she felt weren’t working as hard as she was. Brett was glad the woman was normally on the Beta shift. “Sensors are picking up a massive tetryon particle surge.”

“Tetryon particles?” Olivia asked, a curious expression on her face. “Ensign Shanthi, does your readout confirm that?”

“Yes,” Shanthi said, his voice displaying his confusion. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Increase our scans of the affected area,” Olivia told both Shanthi and Hanoj. “How large is the area in question?”

Brett almost laughed as he watched both eager young officers race to provide the answer. Hanoj beat Shanthi by a hair. She looked up, her naturally split lips breaking into a satisfied grin. “It’s approximately 480 meters long, and about 340 meters wide. Strange that’s its so localized.”

“That’s because it’s a ship,” Shanthi replied darkly.
“You have proof of that Mr. Shanthi?” Hanoj asked. It was clear that the woman didn’t like being upstaged.

“Those dimensions fit the parameters for a Klingon Vor’cha-class attack cruiser,” Shanthi answered. “The real question is what are the Klingons doing here, and why are they cloaked?”

“Cloaked?” Brett asked, gulping in trepidation. He really wasn’t in the mood to fight for his life today.

“Yes,” Juneau replied, “How could I forget? Tetryon particles are sometimes emitted by cloaking devices. Good deduction Mr. Shanthi.”

“That sounds like a stretch,” Hanoj said, still unwilling to concede.

“Well, I would rather us be wrong and I look foolish than to have the Klingons pull a fast one on us,” Juneau said. “And I’m not going to give them the chance.”
*****