Dark Territory: Pandora's Jar

[DarKush]

DF,

Once again, I'm pleased that you liked what I did with the Sutherland crew but when I reread those scenes, I felt everyone was a bit too blase regarding Sito's brutality so I decided to address it as the story progresses. Thanks again everyone for reading and also for commenting.


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PART FOUR: THE HATRED VECTOR

Alshain Starforce Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-Class
Stateroom

“You should be pleased that the gods favor you so,” Nauarch Edim S’Elani remarked, with barely restrained fury. “Because you breaking away from your command due to your bloodlust has placed you in the closet position for our immediate needs.”

Since the admiral had started off by letting her off the hook, Sutahr Vallo R’Vort saw no need to be obsequious with him. “And what would those immediate needs be milord?”

“You are intercept this ship,” he paused, transmitting information to her. Seconds later, his stern visage was replaced by the too delicate, rounded form of a Federation starship, Intrepid-class. “This is the USS Ariane. Captain Natalie Brennan, the commanding officer, has taken her into the Pyxis Cluster, supposedly without the foreknowledge of Starfleet Command. Brennan destroyed one of our vessels, the Excise, three days ago.”

“The Excise?” R’Vort was taken aback. “Sutahr T’Hiro…I knew him well.” Fond memories were soon consumed by the fires of retribution. “What is Ariane’s heading now?”

“It’s last known heading was into the Pyxis Cluster. Where you’re heading now I presume.”

“Yes,” R’Vort saw no reason to deceive her superior. “I was apprehending an errant Son’a vessel, one not accounted for during the victory at Belos colony.”

“Don’t you mean the massacre?” S’Elani snorted. “I have read Sutahr L’Brax’s report. Belos colony could’ve provided the Exarchate with much needed resources. Now it is nothing more than an ember.”

“I disagree milord,” R’Vort said strongly, feeling the fire of conviction in her soul, and it warmed her more than her fur ever had. “Belos colony is a symbol of our new power, a warning to all that would dare to oppose us as we reconstitute the Greater Alshain; a necessary, but well deserved, bit of brutality.”

“War Minister C’Oemnm might feel differently about that,” S’Elani replied, and Vallo couldn’t detect how the admiral really felt.

“I will present my case to the Exarch himself,” R’Vort said. “I have nothing to hide, nor to be ashamed of. My taskforce acted admirably. And the Son’a ability to wage war upon us was crippled significantly.”

S’Elani stroked his chin. “Bring back the Ariane, intact or its hulk, and I will do all that I can to see that your heroism is properly rewarded.”

“I will do so,” R’Vort promised.

“But you must be made aware that the War Ministry has allowed a Starfleet ship entrance into the Cluster to retrieve the Ariane. Command has given them three days to recover their rogue vessel.”

“How much lead time do I have?” R’Vort asked.

“Based on your current location, and extrapolating the last known coordinates of the Ariane, you are one day ahead of the Starfleet vessel.”

“Then I shall make the most of that day,” R’Vort declared.

“See that you do,” S’Elani warned before he ended the transmission.
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Son’a Destroyer Ktynga
Command Salon

Subahdar Par’na blinked his eyes against the alluring colors swirling around the spatial rift. There was something almost hypnotic about the energy pulses. “Dim main viewer luminal receptors,” he ordered. The darker screen did little to affect the seductive flashes. They called to him.

With some effort, he turned away, and looked at Science Officer Tarlo. “Have you located the beacon?”

“No,” Tarlo didn’t hide his frustration. “The previous location…appears to have shifted.”

“What?” Lojef beat Par’na to the punch.

“Explain,” Par’na ordered.

Tarlo shrugged. “I…can’t.”

Par’na was almost more stunned by the man’s admission than the possible implications of his words.

“Can sensors confirm that?” Lojef asked.

Har’ena nodded. “Yes sir. Not only that, I think we’ve detected where the beacon has shifted to. Deeper inside the rift.”

“Beyond our tractor range I take it?” Lojef asked grimly.

“It appears so sir,” Har’ena answered and Tarlo nodded soberly in agreement. Lojef turned to him.

“Sir, I recommend we desist immediately and regroup with Ahdar Wuuten’s forces.”

“How can we show our faces to other Son’a without having something to justify our actions at Belos?” Par’na asked, turning away from the aft section. He gazed at the rift again. He shut his eyes, but the colors penetrated the lids. There was more beyond the rift than the beacon, the colors sung to him, something that would not only save his people, but give them the means to destroy their enemies. He sighed under the burden of his decision. “We must retrieve the beacon. We’re crossing into the rift.”
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USS Sutherland
Captain’s Ready Room
Leaving Occupied Cardassian Space

“Captain Shelby, this is a surprise,” Terrence Glover beamed.

“I only thought you were getting your stomach pumped, and not a personality transplant. You know its Liz,” Captain Shelby smiled. “And how are you feeling?”

“Actually, a stomach pumping would’ve been a preferable procedure,” Glover replied, “But I’m almost back to my awesome self.”

“No, I see that winning personality is still the same,” Shelby said drolly.

“As much as I would like to believe otherwise, something tells me this isn’t a social call. So, what can I do for you?” Glover asked. Shelby paused, at a momentary loss for words, and her counterpart’s grin slowly morphed into a grim expression. “Something’s wrong.”

Shelby sighed. “It’s Jaxa,” she remarked.

“What happened?” Terrence asked, and the captain related the recent events on Kooval III. Glover’s face scrunched into a pained expression when Shelby told him about the young Bajoran’s lethal response to their would-be Ferengi captors. Elizabeth, caught up in the rush of the action, hadn’t fully grasped the horror of what Sito had done until hours later, after reading the away team’s after-action reports.

Sam had compelled both T’Jol and Auguste not to file complaints with Command. Lavelle had convinced them that Shelby would handle it, and Elizabeth intended to live up that promise. She just wasn’t sure about the best way to go about it. Neither of the two officers had been aboard when Jaxa had been rescued from the clutches of Gul Rejak. Neither of them had seen the vile things he had done to her or the horrific shape she had been in. Neither had seen how inspiring her recovery had been, and neither had also seen how the war had stripped away some of that hard won progress.

Of how the war had unleashed a savage side to everyone aboard Sutherland, and how there was a part of Elizabeth that had wanted to do the same thing Jaxa had done, and still saw no problem with it. The Dominion War had removed the blinders in a way that even the Borg Incursions had not.

They couldn’t understand that, they couldn’t understand Jaxa. But Terrence Glover, with ties longer to the troubled young Bajoran than even her own, could. Glover had once been Sito’s mentor during her stint on Nova Squadron. Sito had intimated more than once that she didn’t think the Squadron’s cover up that had almost destroyed her career, not to mention her life, would’ve happened if Glover hadn’t left the Squadron to return to active duty.

Shelby had detected a note of anger in the young woman’s ruminations, a spear of blame. But she had never told Terrence that Jaxa felt that way, and Terrence had been very cautious around her since her return. Rejak’s depredations had made Sito extremely leery of males and Terrence had sought not to upset her, though Elizabeth had seen how his enforced distance had hurt him.

“Terrence, I need your advice,” Shelby began, “About Jaxa….”
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USS Ariane
Captain’s Ready Room

“My gods Natalie, what are we doing?” Commander M’Vess said.

“I really don’t have time for this,” Captain Brennan removed her face from her hands. She massaged her aching temples. Her head was pounding so loud she thought she was coming apart at the seams. She needed something to keep together. She needed acid.

“That excuse flew at first, but it’s been days since the battle, and you’ve been holed up in here.” Her Caitian executive officer flared. “The crew is starting to fray at the edges. They need leadership. They need answers. They need their captain.”

“They need to do their jobs,” Brennan snapped. She forced herself to keep from shaking. Perhaps she should’ve chosen another time to attempt to quit cold turkey. Though she was sweating, Natalie had never felt so cold. “And you need to do yours.”

M’Vess took a step back, clearly stunned. Even Natalie couldn’t believe what she had said. M’Vess had been one of her closest friends. She could always count on her, but in the grip of the need, Natalie couldn’t trust anyone, or anything except the bliss of the acid. She needed it to give her strength, confidence, to help her see clearly again.

“I…Natalie…this has gone too far,” M’Vess said quietly. “You need help.”

“You keep talking like that, you can join Grayson in the brig,” Brennan threatened. “Now, get back on the bridge!”

M’Vess lowered her head. “Aye sir.”
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USS Ariane
Detention Center

“You’re dismissed,” Commander M’Vess told the guard watching over Lt. Commander Grayson. Maggie sat up on her bunk, a hard cast to her face.

“Captain sent you to interrogate me?” M’Vess stood in front of her, only a slightly shimmering screen separating them. The Caitian snorted derisively.

“This goes against everything in by being,” M’Vess said. She reached out. The screen crackled, and dissipated.

Maggie steeled herself. She really hadn’t suspected that M’Vess would actually carry out any hard interrogation methods, but she didn’t know if the Caitian had been infected by the same madness that seemed to have gripped the captain.

“The captain’s…no longer fit to command,” M’Vess’s voice broke, “And I need your help to gain control of the ship.”
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[BrotherBenny]

Oh boy, I'm seeing a lot of trouble ahead.

 

[DarKush]

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USS Aegis
Main Bridge

“He’s hiding something,” Lt. Dindral whispered. You think? Ivan thought incredulously, but he nodded soberly as if the revelation was actually insightful. Despite the half Betazoid’s empathy, Cherenkov was pretty good at reading people. If he hadn’t been he would’ve dead a long time ago. And for Aquiel’s sake, he was going to try to be fair and more respectful towards Dindral. The thought of trying to placate the engineer almost made him chuckle.

“We wish to help you with your search,” the protocol officer replied. “Nauarch S’Elani thought it would shorten the search.”

“Please transmit our regards to the admiral,” Ivan said, with a cold smile. “The Alshain ship can meet us en route. We had planned to lay locator buoys to guide our way out of the cluster anyway.”

“Actually,” Officer Ting V’Tan smugly said, “We insist that you wait for the escort. Navigating through the Cluster can be hazardous.”

“We can manage,” Cherenkov said tightly. The Russian knew they were on a short schedule and he also knew that V’Tan had to be aware of that too. So why was the Protocol Officer trying to stall? What was he trying to hide?

“I never meant to imply otherwise,” V’Tan said smoothly. “It’s just the delicateness of this situation requires a cautious response. Some among the War Ministry feel that your continued encroachment, if not an outright act of war, shows a serious lack of territorial respect.”

Ivan forced himself not to sigh. Reigning in his frustration, he began, “Admirals Glover and D’Anzan have already covered this. And Admiral S’Elani gave us authorization.”

“That authorization has not been rescinded,” V’Tan said, smugly, “Merely modified.” Cherenkov folded his arms, his anger starting to get the best of him.

“I’ll take this up with Starfleet Command,” He said.

“Please do so, and you will see that your superiors have agreed to this new arrangement. Our envoy on Earth informed the Santiago administration of the potential political fallout that could result from the Ariane’s reign of terror. After the unfortunate comments made by some on the Federation Council regarding our defensive actions against the Son’a, the administration has wisely decided to work with us in this matter. It is a good faith effort to repair the damage wrought by some of your irresponsible policymakers.”

“Irresponsibility isn’t the sole province of the Federation,” Lt. Commander N’Saba snorted, drawing a sharp glare from V’Tan. N’Saba met the glare with one of his own. “This request is nothing more than a bureaucratic pissing contest. The longer we wait here, the more time we give the Ariane to perpetuate even more damage in the Cluster or beyond it.” V’Tan ignored the Science Officer’s observations. He shifted his attention back to Ivan.

“I understand now why Mr. N’Saba prefers Starfleet over his native Starforce. His lack of decorum would’ve resulted in his tongue adorning some commander’s wall a long time ago.”

“Only if said commander was warrior enough to take it from me,” N’Saba grinned predatorily. “I don’t think you are Protocol Officer V’Tan, with all due respect of course.”

“Enough Mr. N’Saba,” Cherenkov grated; though he understood N’Saba’s sentiment. Ivan couldn’t stand pencil pushers, no matter the species.

Ivan also hated politics, and the sanctimonious V’Tan represented the rankest of both. V’Tan and his masters had done an end run around Admirals Glover and D’Anzan. He knew the elder Glover had to be livid right now, and Ivan was expecting a communiqué as soon as V’Tan was finished. “There’s no need for acrimony. I will consult with my superiors and if the authorization is in order, I will wait for an escort.”

“I’m glad you’re being so sensible about this Commander,” V’Tan said with a satisfied nod.

After the transmission ended, there were several groans across the bridge, most notably from N’Saba. But Ivan smiled. “What’s so funny sir?” A glum Lt. Rojas ventured.

“I said I’d be waiting,” Cherenkov said. “But everyone seems to be forgetting about our multi-vector assault mode. If we split into three vessels, two can proceed into the Cluster while I’ll wait for the escort.”

Lt. Donar, standing at the tactical console, chuckled. But Dindral frowned. “Sir, if we split apart, it might leave each section more vulnerable.”

“But it could allow us to search the Maw much faster,” Donar said.

“And each platform has full propulsion and weapons systems,” N’Saba added.

“But if we remained combined, we would have combined shielding and weapons, perhaps enough for whatever spatial anomalies or adversaries we might encounter inside the Cluster,” Dindral countered.

“The decision is made,” Ivan said, sternly. “We’re not going to allow the Alshain to play politics with one of our ships, and we’re going to find a way to still bring the Urania home.”
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Starfleet Headquarters
Earth

The last thing Terrence Glover had expected to hear was laughter. His father had called him and asked him to rush over to San Francisco, taking him away from snorkeling with Jasmine around the underwater city New Martim Vaz. His father knew how much Terrence had been looking forward to the trip and he wouldn’t have called him unless something serious had happened to the Aegis.

Admiral Glover leaned back in his chair, one hand on his stomach, his mouth nearly splitting his face as he sought to regain control of himself.

“What’s the joke?” Terrence asked. “Hopefully it’s not on me.”

“You know son,” Samson replied, after taking a few seconds to catch his breath. “I might have been wrong about Mr. Cherenkov.”
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Son’a Destroyer Ktynga
Command Salon

“Entering the spatial rift,” Tarlo dourly intoned. The ship began to tremble, but the helm ably moved Ktynga through the worst of it.

“What’s happening?” Lojef beat Par’na to the quick again.

“Encountering a massive spike in negative energy,” Har’ena said, unfazed by Tarlo’s snort at getting trumped too.

“Negative energy?” Par’na asked, confused. “Why didn’t our sensors detect this before?”

“It appears that the spatial anomalies littering the Cluster covered up a mass of negative energy.”

“Do we have a visual of this negative mass?” Lojef asked.

“Yes sir,” Har’ena said. She shifted the ship’s sensors toward the locus of the energy readings. The bridge crew gasped collectively. A large, obsidian mass, the size of a large planet, hovered before them. Every few seconds dark currents rippled across its surface, exposing several cracks, and glimmers of something underneath.

“The negative energy appears like a ball, spherical in nature,” Har’ena added.

“Yes, a type of negasphere,” Tarlo quickly threw in. “And it appears to have been placed around a planet.”

“Are you detecting any life form readings?” Lojef asked.

“No,” Har’ena said. “The negative energy is blocking our sensors.”

Par’na scratched his mottled chin. “We don’t want to go anywhere near this…negasphere. Have either of you located the beacon?”

“No,” the both answered, Tarlo a mere breath after Har’ena.

“Where could it have gone?” A troubled Lojef asked.

“That’s a good question,” Par’na said. He turned to Tarlo and then Har’ena. “Any ideas?” The Science Officer’s brow wrinkled even more.

“The beacon’s signature is coming from the planet behind the negasphere.”

“Of course it is,” Par’na said. He glanced at Lojef, but his stalwart second shook his head with such vigor that his hood fell back, exposing his naked scalp.

“I think we should abandon this quest,” Lojef said. “We don’t know what is behind that negasphere. It could be a trap for all we know.”

“Or the beacon could’ve crashed, and if we recover it, the device might tell us more about what happened to the Urania; or its retrieval might grant us some favor with the Federation,” Par’na said, his hope sounding like desperation even to him.

Har’ena frowned. “But sirs, I don’t understand how a beacon, particularly if it crashed could have the power to broadcast not only past a negative wall of energy, but through a spatial rift, with enough force to be detected by a passerby ship. The power source of even a Starfleet beacon isn’t that strong.”

“Perhaps some Starfleet survivors modified the beacon,” Par’na said. “Some do have reputations for being miracle workers, you know?”

Tarlo laughed. “That would be some miracle indeed.” The larger man shook his head. “I’m in agreement with Har’ena. I think it’s highly unlikely that a damaged beacon would have this kind of output or that even Federation science could boost the range of a beacon to this extent.”

“So, you both think that another species might have altered the beacon? Perhaps to initiate contact?” Lojef asked. Both junior officers shook their heads.

“Even better,” Par’na said, clapping his hands. “This species might provide us with weapons or technology we need to turn the tide back on the Alshain. Tarlo and Har’ena, join me in the shuttle bay. Lojef, you have the salon.”
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[DarKush]

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USS Aegis
Main Bridge
Saucer Section

“What is the meaning of this?” Roared Sutahr Jarid C’Jeh of the Lasting Flame, “what happened to the rest of your vessel?”

Lt. Commander Cherenkov had never liked playing coy, though he had enjoyed toying with the enraged Alshain commander. “I informed Protocol Officer V’Tan that I would be waiting for you, and here I am.”

“Where is the rest of your vessel?” C’Jeh snarled. “We are well aware of the multi-vector assault mode of the Prometheus-class.”

“Your High Command didn’t request that all of Aegis wait for you, and I sent the secondary and tertiary portions of Aegis along to start our search for the Ariane. Both sections are warp capable and have full weapons capability.”

“You’ve perhaps doomed both of them,” C’Jeh countered. “They know nothing of the horrors of the Maw.”

Ivan was unfazed. He had seen more horror than most in his lifetime. “Well then, how about we find out together.”
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USS Aegis
Auxiliary Bridge
Secondary Hull

Lt. Shardha Dindral couldn’t relax. “ETA until we reach the Cluster?” Both separate portions of Aegis had been booking away from the primary hull since Cherenkov’s order, trying to make up for lost time and to get as much of a jump on the Alshain escort as possible. To increase the chances of finding the Ariane, Lt. Commander Uhnari, in command of the tertiary hull, had suggested splitting up to cover more ground. Dindral had reluctantly agreed.

“We’ll reach the Pyxis Cluster within three hours,” Ensign Dermot Farrier said, comfortably from the helm. The auxiliary bridge configuration was more compact than the Main Bridge. Farrier, at Helm, and Lt. Commander N’Saba, at Operations, seemed to be shoved together at the prow of the bridge. Also, the hull’s main Engineering section was also on the auxiliary bridge. Lt. Mono, a Medusan, ably manned that section, her mechanical arms inputting data and regulating the ship’s power output as necessary as she hovered over the terminal. Commander Cherenkov had felt it necessary to place Lt. Donar aboard the vessel. He was honest when he told her that he wanted a more experienced tactical hand on board in case the secondary hull encountered the Ariane first and they appeared to be uncooperative. Shardha tried not to take the move for a slam against her ability, but she wasn’t quite that evolved yet.

For the most part, the stoic Angosian had learned his station’s controls quickly and had stayed out of her hair. If anything, she thought he might be easier to handle than N’Saba, who Cherenkov also felt necessary to foist upon her. “Mr. N’Saba institute periodic sensor wide sweeps until we reach the Cluster. If we’re lucky we might be able to head off the Ariane before having to venture into the Maw alone.”

N’Saba sniggered. “If we have that kind of luck our next stop should be Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet.”
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USS Aegis
Auxiliary Bridge
Tertiary Hull

I really hate this, Lt. Commander Aquiel Uhnari thought. As if she didn’t have enough problems in Engineering already, now she was leading one third of the Aegis into a patch of very wild space, with Commander Dangal as her Executive Officer.

So far the Zakdorn hadn’t been too much trouble. He was also overseeing the Engineering section, his focus still on repairing the bioneural circuitry problem. She hoped that the gel packs didn’t fail them or the other errant sections of the ship while they were inside the Maw.

At present Aquiel was more concerned about mechanical failure than encountering the Ariane. Whatever Captain Brennan’s angle was, she was knee-deep in spatial anomalies right now if she had continued into the Cluster. The Ariane might be space dust right now for all they knew.

Aquiel hoped that wasn’t the case. She hoped that the ship and crew were found, safe and sound, and that they would have an opportunity to explain their actions. Aquiel wondered if the ship’s captain hadn’t simply buckled and had nervous breakdown. It had been happening more and more across the Fleet as the Federation settled uncomfortably back into peacetime. Some found it easier to put the war behind them than others. For some, there would be no return to old times or normal routines, the war had seared that away forever.

She prayed that that wasn’t the case for Captain Brennan and her crew. If she had a moment to spare, she would retreat to her ad hoc quarters and pull out her canar. Generally the crystalline device was used to amplify the empathic bond between lovers, or special friends known as Oumriel, but Aquiel often used it to connect with the telepathic residue left behind after each encounter. It often steadied her. But she knew she needed to find strength elsewhere for the moment because she didn’t want to leave the bridge. Ariane or something worse than a possibly insane starship captain was out there. She could feel it without need of an amplifier.

“Is everything all right Captain?” Dr. Rieta Cole asked. The woman had chosen to take a perch on the bridge for a spell instead of sitting around inside the even more cramped medical bay.

“Why do you ask?” Aquiel swiveled around to gaze at the human. Dr. Cole shrugged her shoulders, a nervous expression on her face. She looked away from her.

“No reason…just a feeling,” she finally offered up. Aquiel nodded, not quite understanding. Generally humans weren’t the most empathic among species, though they did possess a vague intuition. Sometimes it manifested more powerfully in certain humans than others. Perhaps Dr. Cole was one of those beneficiaries, though Aquiel felt there was more to it than that. Once the mission was over she might inquire. Despite serving together for months, the medic kept to herself though she had a great bedside manner. The only person she seemed to warm around was Captain Glover and that had given Aquiel a little cause for concern; though she hadn’t voiced her discomfort. Who was she to judge or imply anything?

She had a bad enough past reputation as it was, and she didn’t want to add gossiper to the list. Aquiel dialed back her concerns and shifted her focus back to the mission at hand. As soon as it was over, they could get back to finding the beacon, and then get the hells away from the Pyxis Cluster. And she intended to do her part to speed that along.
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[DarKush]

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USS Ariane
Main Armory

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Lt. Sinal replied as he slid a bandolier filled with stun grenades across his chest. “There are only three of us.”

“Four,” Lt. Commander Maggie Grayson said.

“Chief Simcoe can be trusted?” M’Vess asked, wrinkling her nose after voicing the question. What had happened that she couldn’t trust her crewmates anymore?

“Barry understands the danger the ship could be in if Captain Brennan stays in command,” Grayson answered with confidence. “He’s at least willing to back us in getting Brennan to submit to a psychological exam and physical. If there is Corillan acid in her system, she’ll have no choice but to step aside, and then you can lead us out of this morass.”

M’Vess sighed. She hated telling Grayson about Natalie’s previous drug use. The woman had struggled with addiction since the death of her lover, a scientist named Matthew Owens, years ago. And she relapsed shortly after the Battle of Pyxis Cluster. With all of the old ghosts of that battle swirling about them, the Caitian feared that her friend had succumbed to her demons again.

“When I give the signal he will shut down propulsion and lock out the central computer,” Grayson said.

“You’re sure about that?” The Caitian asked. Grayson nodded.

“And what about Mr. Phelan, what will he do?” M’Vess pressed.

“I…don’t know,” Grayson said, her confident façade cracking. M’Vess shook her head, sad at distressful look on the woman’s face. Not being able to trust her lover, surely worried about betraying him, Grayson did understand what M’Vess was going through, or so the Caitian hoped. “What about the other senior officers?”

“Askew won’t be a problem,” Grayson said, “But I don’t know about Lall. You served with her on Ehecatl, what do you think she’ll do?”

“She’ll back the captain,” M’Vess answered honestly. “They go back a long ways. Perhaps having her administer the physical might not be the best thing. Her impartiality will be an issue.”

“We can have Kellas do it,” Grayson offered.

“And then her impartiality will be questioned,” Sinal said. “How about we allow both to administer separate test and compare results?”

“Good idea Mr. Sinal,” M’Vess nodded. “That’s what we’ll do.” She checked the power setting on her phaser and attached it to her belt. Grayson did likewise, though the woman looked forlornly at the row of compressor rifles lining the walls. Sinal was the only one of the trio heavily laden with weapons. He would remain behind, as part of her contingency, if necessary.

“It’s time to go,” M’Vess said. “Make sure to seal the doors behind us.” Sinal nodded solemnly. M’Vess did her best to ignore the prone figure of the stunned guard as she stepped over him. It had been the second person she had incapacitated today; the first had been the warder in the Detention Center. She hoped that the second would it be her last, but something told her that fate wouldn’t be too kind in that regard.
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Alshain Starforce Destroyer Bonecrusher
Slayer-Class
Command Salon

“Sutahr, long range sensors have detected a Starfleet ion trail,” Oyan Lantas J’Leng panted, not hiding her excitement. Her ears shot up from his shaggy gray head. And his tongue lagged from his mouth between pants. The young sensor officer’s bloodlust was intoxicating.

“How have you detected the signature in this miasma?” Kveld Rask K’Relk had to be a killjoy. Of course as always, Rask made a good point. Warp trails were usually hard to track in nebular space, and inside the Cluster it should’ve been near impossible, unless with divine assistance.

J’Leng frowned. “Sir, I don’t know. They just appeared and the readings are consistent with Starfleet vessels.”

“Put the sensor data on screen, I wish to see it for myself,” Sutahr R’Vort ordered. Green globs stood in stark relief against the riot of colors suffusing the Maw. “And you say the readings are consistent with Starfleet vessels?”

“Yes Sutahr,” J’Leng answered quickly.

“Is it possible that the unique properties of the Maw, with the mash up of different gases and anomalies have actually preserved the ion trail instead of masking it?” Weapons Officer Ogt P’Orus asked. Rask scratched his chin, and J’Leng’s brow furrowed as she pondered the idea.

“Well, is it?” R’Vort asked the bridge after no one confirmed P’Orus’s speculation.

“We don’t know much about the strange properties of the Maw,” J’Leng finally
answered. “For that reason alone, I can’t discount it.”

“Then we will follow this trail and find out where it leads,” R’Vort declared, happy that her decision set J’Leng to panting again. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into fresh prey either.
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USS Sutherland
Main Bridge
Entering the Pyxis Cluster

“Houston, I think we have a problem,” Commander Sam Lavelle muttered.

“Not now Sam,” Captain Shelby said out of the side of her mouth. She stood up and straightened the front of her tunic. “Mr. Auguste, hail the flotilla.” Arrayed before them was a line of Pursuit and Howler interceptors. A huge Pack-class supercarrier sat in the middle of the line. The Pack-class didn’t use the standard catamaran-style of most Alshain vessels. It’s large, ribbed, blunt, almost phallic appearance, with its dual landing bays hanging beneath the main hull, brought some totally inappropriate, but fun images to Shelby’s mind. Maria chuckled, she must have caught on, Shelby realized. No one else seemed to, or had better self control than either she or her helmsman.

There was an insistent beeping from Auguste’s console and seconds later the image shifted to a prim Alshain female, bedecked in a white uniform, littered with medals. “I am Nauarch T’Sume of the Okami, and I demand that you desist from your present course and return to Federation space.”

“I think we’re going to be late,” Shelby muttered.
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[DarKush]

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USS Aegis
Auxiliary Bridge
Secondary Hull


Lt. Commander Seb N’Saba ambled to his makeshift quarters, disappointed at the crick in his back. It was a sign that both he was getting older or not exercising enough, and neither outcome brightened his disposition. He had just finished his second straight duty shift and so far they hadn’t netted the Ariane.

Tensions were fraying among the crew the deeper the ship rocketed into the Maw, and N’Saba knew it would only get worse until they found Ariane or learned of its fate. As soon as he entered his private quarters he kicked off his boots, stretched the paws of his feet and began walking on all fours. Like many Alshain, Seb preferred to walk upright, out of concerns that moving on all fours might evoke hoary stereotypes about the Alshain being animals. But in private, he enjoyed using all his limbs to move around, as opposed to more limited motion as a biped.

As soon as he sank to the floor, his senses detected the blinking of a light on his desktop computer. His ears picked up the almost inaudible beeping that accompanied each blink. N’Saba padded over to the computer. He stood up and tapped the activation button. A prerecorded audio message, spoken by Commander Cherenkov said, “Mr. N’Saba I think this is the message we’ve been waiting for. I had it routed to you. Keep me informed.”

The computer screen’s black screen shifted to a blue one emblazoned with a golden Federation symbol. That symbol gave way to a familiar and very comely face. N’Saba’s ears perked up in anticipation. He regretted that his artificial eyesight robbed him of the opportunity to see her and not the electromagnetic spectrum surrounding her. He could only remember her beauty. Though he figured it was for the best.

He hadn’t seen her since an accident had robbed him of natural sight and made him even more an outcast among his Sept and his class. “Seb,” the chocolate-furred woman said warmly, though her smile was quick and nervous. “I wish I could’ve at least spoken to you instead of recording this message. I know you trust these humans, but if this falls into the wrong hands, it could ruin my father’s career.”

“I’ll see that it won’t,” N’Saba promised, then chided himself for forgetting that he was talking to a recorded message.

“Out of the deep bond our…two families share, I will supply you with this information,” the woman said, “Admiral D’Anzan’s orders were overruled by the Exarch himself, against the counsel of the War Minister.”

“What?” N’Saba gasped, stepping back in shock. He rapped against his temple for talking back to the message again.

“Yes,” the woman nodded soberly, as if she had anticipated his reaction. “The war has stoked a fire in the Exarch. He wants to bring Greater Alshain into being and there is talk around the royal court that he has begun to see the Federation as not only an obstacle, but the main obstacle.”

“No” N’Saba said, but to himself this time. “That’s madness.”

“The advisors he has arrayed around him are bloodthirsty; the war with the Son’a might only be the first of many.”

“We’re returning to the old ways,” he intoned quietly, not quite sure how he felt about that. Millennia ago, before the advent of the Klingons, Tholians, and Gorn, the Alshain were the preeminent power in the Beta Quadrant. But for countless generations their power had eroded until the Exarchate had become a third rate power. The war, and the prudent alliance with the Federation, had been a master stroke by Exarch Jedalla to restore some respectability to his species. But now the man was going too far.

In times past Exarchs often relied on trusted Viziers to oversee the affairs of state. They often carefully braked or guided overly ambitious or, more bluntly, stupid plans of the rulers the served. But Jedalla had ended this tradition after his Vizier had attempted to assassinate him. Far away from the intrigues of the noble houses and royal court, N’Saba had an outsiders’ perspective. And, coupled with reports from those still inside, the Science Officer could see that the near coup had changed Jedalla. It had left him less trusting of others and more certain of his infallibility. N’Saba also felt that the assassination attempt had made Jedalla more aware of his mortality and he was determined to leave Greater Alshain behind as his legacy.

“Yes,” the woman nodded in agreement. “The war against the Dominion has only stoked appetites, it didn’t sate them.”

“Well, I am at least glad there is someone with among the Peers with common sense,” N’Saba replied. The woman’s aura brightened measurably at the compliment.

“Thank you Seb,” she replied. “I am sending you a copy last communiqué my father received from the War Ministry, encoded in this message, and disguised as subspace pulses. I take it that your considerable intellect should be able to recreate the message.” She paused, as if waiting for a response.

“Of course,” Seb replied.

“Knowing you, I’m sure that you will have no problem deciphering it. Take care of yourself. I wish that I could let your parents know that I spoke to you.”

“Like they would care,” N’Saba mumbled.

“But I can’t. I can’t risk exposure.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Seb replied. “And this will be the last time I ask you to take on such a dangerous task.”

“Till next time old friend,” the woman placed a paw against the screen and Seb did likewise.

“Farewell Evin,” he murmured.
********************************************************************

USS Aegis
Captain’s Ready Room

“So, that’s their game,” Ivan said to himself after reading over Lt. Commander N’Saba’s report.

“They want to reverse engineer the Ariane for military purposes,” Lt. M’Raow said, “Doesn’t sound too friendly.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Cherenkov agreed. “And we’re not going to allow that to happen.”

“But what about the Lasting Flame?” The Caitian asked. “I don’t think we can do much with it shadowing us.”

“How about we find a way to douse that flame?” The Russian said, with a feral grin.
*******************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

*******************************************************************
USS Ariane
Main Bridge

Captain Brennan leaned forward in her seat, her face a vortex of anger, betrayal, and disbelief. “You can’t be serious?”

Commander M’Vess swallowed hard. She stood before the seated captain. The bridge had gone deathly quiet. The Caitian repeated, “Captain, I need for you to stand down. I am assuming command of this vessel.”

Brennan laughed bitterly. “Security, please escort the commander to the brig, and throw Commander Grayson back in the brig!”

“Don’t,” Grayson, standing at the entrance to the turbolift, replied. She tapped the hilt of the phaser in her holster. Lt. Phelan paused.

“I just gave you a direct order Mr. Phelan,” Brennan repeated, her face flushing red.

“You’re not well Captain…Natalie, and everyone knows that,” M’Vess tried to reason with her friend. “What we did to that Alshain vessel…we might have just committed an act of war.”

“It was self-defense,” Brennan dismissed the allegation with a wave.

“We wouldn’t even be in this situation if you hadn’t placed us here,” M’Vess countered. “Without authorization.”

Brennan smiled coldly, “This mission is on a need to know basis, and you or the crew doesn’t need to know. Which I figure is just as well since you can’t be trusted.” She whipped her head aft. “Do as you’ve been instructed Mr. Phelan.” The Phalkerian lurched toward Commander Grayson.

“Don’t make me do this Phelan,” Maggie warned, pulling her phaser. The Phalkerian unlatched his firearm. He aimed it at her.

“Put down the weapon Maggie,” He replied, his voice breaking. “Now.”

“No,” she said, raising the weapon and pointing it at them.

“Are you really going to allow them to fire on each other?” M’Vess asked, appalled.

“Mr. Phelan will do what is necessary to prevent a mutiny, as will I,” Brennan said. She tapped her combadge. “Computer, place an annular confinement beam around Commander M’Vess.

The Caitian reached for her weapon, but stopped when the computer remarked, “Unable to comply.”

“What’s going on Rhonda?” The Science Officer had assumed Grayson’s terminal after the captain had relieved her.

“Captain,” Lt. Askew replied, “My terminal’s been locked out.”

“What?” Brennan asked, a troubled expression surfacing on her face. She tapped her own armrests. The other bridge officers checked their stations, and all of them looked up with worried expressions. “How?”

“That doesn’t matter,” M’Vess said. “We have control of the central computer. I will relinquish it if you agree to undergo medical testing.”

“I will not negotiate with mutineers,” Brennan sneered.

“Right now Captain, you don’t have a choice,” Maggie shot back.

“Of course I do,” Brennan replied. “I want everyone to apprehend the mutineers, use any force you deem appropriate. Now!” She added, her fury animated the bridge crew.
Phelan leaped at Grayson. She got off one shot which went wide before he crashed into her. They crashed against the unyielding turbolift doors. M’Vess heard an awful crack and then she heard the Phalkerian sob.

M’Vess went for her firearm again, but Captain Brennan had knocked her to the deck with a stiff uppercut. She then jumped on the Caitian and the two struggled for the weapon. The captain was able to knock it out of the commander’s hand. M’Vess then had to defend against the captain’s attempts to pound her head into the deck.

“That’s enough,” M’Vess barely heard Rhonda’s voice above the tumult. The sizzle of beam scorching the carpet right in front of her snout stopped both struggling women. They both looked up, and Lt. Askew stood over them.

Tears streamed from the younger woman’s eyes, and her grip on M’Vess’s weapon was shaky. “My God, I only thought this kind of thing happened in bad holonovels. What are we doing to ourselves?”

“Give me the weapon Lieutenant?” Brennan sat up. She moved cautiously off of M’Vess. She straightened her uniform and reached out her hand. “Surrender the firearm.”

“Don’t do it?” M’Vess asked, on her knees. “You know we’re trying to do the right thing.” The frightened woman looked M’Vess hard in the eye and then looked at the captain.

“Come on Rhonda,” Brennan waggled her fingers. Askew then looked aft. M’Vess followed her gaze and saw Lt. Phelan now standing, Maggie cradled in his arms. He was still sobbing, and blood was dripping from the back of the woman’s head.

She turned back to M’Vess. “I’m sorry.” She pointed the weapon at her. M’Vess prepared for the sting of a stun blast, or worse. At the last second, the angle of the phaser shifted, a loud whine filled the room, and Captain Brennan fell to the floor. M’Vess felt relieved. Askew faced her again.

“You did the right,” she never finished the statement.
********************************************************************
USS Ariane
Sickbay

“Well, what are the results?” Lt. Askew asked both medics. Dr. Lall’s small office was packed with her, Chief Simcoe, Lt. Sinal, Dr. Kellas, and Lall. Lt. Phelan was just outside, standing vigil over the biobed containing Commander Grayson. He had hit the woman with such force that he had given her a severe concussion. Both Captain Brennan and Commander M’Vess, unconscious due to the effects of their stunning, rested on beds opposite Grayson’s.

Lall looked guiltily at Askew and the rest. The Talarian sighed. “Yes, Captain Brennan is suffering from severe withdrawal systems. And yes, I knew about her Corillan acid addiction.”

“Oh my God,” Askew gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. “You knew she had a drug problem and didn’t report it?”

“I-I thought remaining in the service was the best therapy. Starfleet is all she has left,” Lall said. “Without that, I thought she would unravel much faster.”

“But instead, you’ve allowed her to unravel much slower and with the power of a starship under her command no less,” Sinal replied, mortified.

“This goes against everything we were taught at Medical,” Kellas said, a look on disgust at her face. “Doctor, how could you?”

“She’s my friend,” Lall said quietly. “She saved my life. I would not, I will not, abandon her during her troubles.”

“I see,” Chief Simcoe said amiably. “But you know this has to be reported.”

“I know,” Lall sighed, deflating. “I also suspect that you want me to retire to my quarters.” Simcoe looked at Askew, and the Science Officer nodded.

“We think that would be best,” Askew replied. The Talarian nodded. She glanced at Kellas who refused to acknowledge her.

“I stand relieved then,” Lall said before skulking out of her former office.

“I don’t know if I will ever be able to process what just happened,” Askew said.

“Not quite sure any of us will,” Simcoe agreed.

“So, what do we do now?” Sinal asked.

“Chief Simcoe, you’re the highest ranking senior level officer,” Askew replied. “You’re in command now.”

“Great,” Simcoe said, rolling his eyes back in his head. “As much as I want to run and hide in Engineer, I know the crew needs reassurance right now.”

“Yes they do,” Askew said.

“Rhonda, you’re my first officer, and Sinal I want you on the bridge at tactical. I don’t think Phelan is up to it right now.”

“Agreed,” Rhonda replied.

“Kellas, hold down the fort here and I want to be informed the second the captain awakens.”

“Aye sir,” the Ktarian medic answered.

“I’ll assign guards at the door,” Sinal offered.

“That would be good,” Simcoe said.

“So, what’s our first order of business?” Rhonda asked.

“Getting the hell out of this Cluster.”
********************************************************************
Son’a Shuttle

“Keep her steady,” Subahdar Par’na told the Tarlac pilot for the umpteenth time. The shuttle rocked back and forth as it entered one of the cracks lacing the negasphere. The Son’a captain shared Tarlo’s concerns about their shuttle’s warp field coming into contact with the edges of the tear; the negative-positive reaction might vaporize them.

Par’na’s stomach was knotted as the shuttle slowly made its way past the entrance and into the equally starless space surrounding the scalded, brown planet below them. There wasn’t a trace of green or blue on the orb, nothing that symbolized life. There seemed to be only death and decay. He shuddered.

“Any life readings?” He asked Tarlo.

“Nothing,” the large man replied. “The world is dead.”

“And what of the beacon?”

“I’m detecting a faint signature…at the planet’s southern pole,” Har’ena answered.

“Let’s head there then,” Par’na said. “The faster we recover it, the faster we can leave.”
****************************************************************
Mobile Assembly Station 3
Son’a Operations Theater

The loud rapping at her door woke her from a troubled sleep. Though she should be grateful, Syot Evin S’Elani was not. “Who disturbs me at this hour?”

“Lady S’Elani, your father requests your presence!” The voice was muted through her door, but still recognizable. It belonged to the protocol officer, Ting V’Tan. He fancied himself a potential suitor, but his Sept was not distinguished enough, and she would not be his stepping stone into the higher echelons of Alshain nobility.

“I’ll be ready in a moment,” she called out. Not sure why her father felt the need to send this toady to escort her. Whatever it was, it probably couldn’t be good. Perhaps there had been a change in the fortunes of the war? Though she would be distressed if her father lost position among the royal court, Evin wouldn’t be too broken up about their campaign against the Son’a encountering difficulties. It had long gone past the point of necessity to atrocities and genocide, and she found no honor in that.

Evin pulled off her nightclothes and ran to the closet. She picked out a gray and black duty uniform and doffed it quickly. She almost had her second boot on when V’Tan called out again:

“My lady, is everything all right?”

“Of course it is,” Evin snapped. She put on the boot, and checked her appearance in the mirror. She opened her door. V’Tan stood before her, a predatory grin on his face. In his hand he held a disruptor. The guards behind him held disruptors as well. And they were all pointed at her.

“I’m going to so enjoy this interrogation,” V’Tan remarked.
******************************************************************

 

[BrotherBenny]

Wow, everything is moving so fast.

What are the Alshain doing in a Mobile Assembly Station in Son'a territory?

 

[CeJay]

Just got caught up on this continuously outstanding story.

Whenever I read your stuff I wonder how you manage to come up with these intensly complex stories. You must have heaps and heaps of notes or something.

I think Matthew Owens was a nice touch as one of the reasons the captain of the Ariane has gone off the reservation. It is always difficult to imagine a mutiny on a Starfleet ship but these characters were as stunned over what was going on as you would think. I liked that.

Sutherland's inclusion appears to be much more than a little cameo. That's very cool, as are the new characters you decided to introduce. I'll try not to get too attached to anybody yet. I full well know your tendencies to kill everyone off in the last act.

Terrific stuff!

 

[DarKush]

Wow, everything is moving so fast.

What are the Alshain doing in a Mobile Assembly Station in Son'a territory?

BB,

I was trying to show that the Alshain had annexed that part of Son'a space. It was their Son'a Operations I was referring too. Sorry if it was confusing.

Cejay,

Thanks for allowing me to use Matthew Owens. Hopefully you caught the reference to Sutahr C'Jeh of the Lasting Flame. I do have a lot of notes, but a lot of times I don't really follow them. I'm always changing names, plot points, etc. I really like to just let my imagination take hold. But sometimes the notes really come in handy when I get writer's block.

Initially the Suthy crew was only supposed to be a cameo, but I decided to use them a bit more. Also, the Alshain weren't originally supposed to be a big part of this story but I saw it as a good opportunity to flesh them out more and to set up the tense political situation that led to 'Picard's War' in Gibraltar's "Prophets and Loss", and my follow-up "Fall Out".

 

[CeJay]

Yeah I had to read Sutah's name twice ... That sounded awefully familiar, I thought. I didn't get the Lasting Flame reference until just now. Doh ...

I'm very flattered.

 

[DarKush]

I originally had named the ship Eternal Flame, but I thought that would be too obvious. Now, I've just got to find a way to work Brother Benny's name in there as an Easter Egg. I'll come up with some eventually.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

A very lush and intricately weaved story. I like what you've done with Jaxa here and wheels are already turning in my head as regards the characters you've introduced. I'm assuming this story will be taking place pre-Blood Cries as, (minor spoilers here) "Blood Cries" will resolve a lot of Sito's issues--It's as much Sito's story as it is Liz, Aliz, and Wesley's.

Very nicely done!

 

[DarKush]

A very lush and intricately weaved story. I like what you've done with Jaxa here and wheels are already turning in my head as regards the characters you've introduced. I'm assuming this story will be taking place pre-Blood Cries as, (minor spoilers here) "Blood Cries" will resolve a lot of Sito's issues--It's as much Sito's story as it is Liz, Aliz, and Wesley's.

Very nicely done!

This story takes place in January 2376. Hopefully that hasn't messed up your timeframe.
If this works better for you pre-BC then pre-BC it is. Thanks for reading and commenting. I'm glad you're liking the new Suthy characters. I almost don't want to kill them now. Almost.

 

[BrotherBenny]

I originally had named the ship Eternal Flame, but I thought that would be too obvious. Now, I've just got to find a way to work Brother Benny's name in there as an Easter Egg. I'll come up with some eventually.

Anything religious could do, or a reference to the DS9 episode Far Beyond the Stars, that's where the name comes from.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

A very lush and intricately weaved story. I like what you've done with Jaxa here and wheels are already turning in my head as regards the characters you've introduced. I'm assuming this story will be taking place pre-Blood Cries as, (minor spoilers here) "Blood Cries" will resolve a lot of Sito's issues--It's as much Sito's story as it is Liz, Aliz, and Wesley's.

Very nicely done!

This story takes place in January 2376. Hopefully that hasn't messed up your timeframe.
If this works better for you pre-BC then pre-BC it is. Thanks for reading and commenting. I'm glad you're liking the new Suthy characters. I almost don't want to kill them now. Almost.

No worries, DarKush, your time setting is perfect. BC takes place a little after this story.

 

[DarKush]

******************************************************************
USS Enterprise-E
Captain’s Ready Room
Gamma Arigulon System

“Have I caught you at a bad time Mr. Sisko?” Captain Jean-Luc Picard asked, with obvious sympathy.

Jake Sisko stifled a yawn and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Of course not Captain Picard.” His eyes cleared, he added, “Though I must admit this is a surprise.”

Captain Picard gave the younger man a half-smile. “I’m not the personage of the moment Mr. Sisko. You are.” Sisko didn’t know how to take that. He smiled for a moment and then tried to tamp his enthusiasm behind a more serious mien.

“I’ m not in this for awards or notoriety,” Sisko said.

“Of course you aren’t,” the captain replied. “But I’m sure they don’t hurt.”

“No, I guess they don’t.” Jake conceded. “I’m assuming you’re contacting me about my expose on the Alshain-Son’a War.” The captain nodded in assent; his expression frosting.

“I think it was a foolhardy thing for you to do, going into a war zone,” Jean-Luc realized how silly he sounded as soon as the words left his lips. He didn’t know Sisko but he was scolding the young man like he was Wesley. He had only met Jake briefly, years ago, when the Enterprise-D had visited the station shortly after Commander Sisko had been installed at Deep Space Nine. Picard and the elder Sisko hadn’t exactly hit it off due to the man losing his wife during the first Borg Incursion, principally led by an assimilated Picard, but they had come to an understanding. Perhaps out of a deep seated guilt, and knowing what had befallen Captain Sisko, Jean-Luc had a desire to protect the man’s progeny.

“Risk is part of the job,” Jake said flippantly, the stars in his eyes dimming. His expression became defiant. “The galaxy had to see what’s going in the war zone, the Federation needed to know about the atrocities against civilians that the Alshain are committing.”

“One could hardly consider the Son’a civilians,” Picard found himself taking a defensive tack. “They enslaved two races, tried to destroy a planet, and that’s before joining the Dominion and waging open war on the Federation.”

“That war ended a month ago,” Jake said, with a pained expression. Picard winced inwardly at reminding the man of what he had lost shortly after the cessation of hostilities. “The Son’a Imperium surrendered and was abiding by the terms of the peace treaty. Whatever obligations the Federation feels it has to the Exarchate have been paid in full.”

Picard shook his head, a wistful smile forming on his lips. “It’s not so easy; in time you’ll see that.”

“Once time had stripped the flower petals off the bloom?” Jake replied. “And how many innocents would die before I stopped caring?”

“Salient point Mr. Sisko,” Picard said soberly. “May we talk…off the record?”

“Of course captain,” Jake’s expression softened. “How can I help you?”

“Despite some of your allegations that Starfleet has turned a blind eye to the plight of those in the war zone, I can assure you that many officers have not,” Picard said.

“I take it that you are in that number?” Jake asked, now all business.

“Yes,” Picard admitted, though it pained him to do so. “Can I trust you Mr. Sisko?”

“Captain, I don’t think you would’ve called me if you didn’t think you could,” Jake answered bluntly. Picard agreed.

“There are some of us who would like to do more, to halt the civilian casualties, or at least provide humanitarian aid, but we prevented from doing so. However, your articles on how the Alshain are conducting their war have given us renewed entrée in the debate. They are shaping public opinion and in turn that is influencing the policymakers. We would like those articles to continue, without undue risk to you of course.”

“Of course,” Jake said, pausing. Here it comes, Picard realized, the quid pro quo.

“My editor and all of the Federation News Service is in my corner,” Jake said, “but it would make my job a bit easier if I could get quotes and information occasionally from likeminded officers in the Fleet.”

Picard tensed, but he anticipated that Jake would make such an offer. The little boy had he had once met in passing had become a man, a tough professional. If he had held on to some misbegotten sentiment he wouldn’t be doing his job, Picard realized. And if Picard held protocol above morality he wouldn’t be doing his. “I’m sure we can find a way to accommodate you.”
**************************************************************

African Confederation
Earth

“I can’t believe that you’ve got your nose stuck in a book, when one of the wonders of the world is right in front of you,” Jamaica Mendes, Terrence’s sister-in-law, half teased.

“Oh leave him alone, Jamaica,” Jasmine said. Before she could say more, Jamaica's son tugged on her arm with such force that it nearly brought her to the ground.

“Aunt Jazz are we going to go under the water fall? Are we? Huh?” He asked excitedly. Between Jamaica and his nephew Jalen, not to mention the thunderous roar of Victoria Falls, Glover resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get any more reading done. He sighed, sliding the slender padd into one of his jacket pockets.

“You okay Terrence?” Jasmine asked, dragging Jalen along beside her.

“Yeah,” He said glumly. “It’s rare that I get time to read, and Benjamin had insisted that I check Benny Russell’s works.”

“Benny who?” Jamaica asked.

“A 20th century writer,” Jasmine replied. “He wrote science-fiction correct?” Glover nodded, impressed that his wife knew that. He had never discussed his conversation with Ben, and he hadn’t even heard of the guy until Sisko had excitedly told him about a strange alternate reality experience in which he somehow lived the writer’s life. Ben had speculated that he was somehow Benny Russell. It was all too weird for Terrence’s taste, and he had chalked it up to Sisko spending too much time around those mystical Bajoran orbs.

Thinking of his old friend now, Terrence’s heart twinged with sadness. Though Ben’s wife Kasidy insisted that Ben had visited her after he fell into Bajor’s Fire Caves, Terrence hadn’t believed her. He had thought the grieving widow was just trying to make sense of something so tragic, so senseless. Sisko had just consoled him briefly over the loss of his own ship after both men had fought at the Battle of Cardassia Prime. And then, just like that, Ben was gone. He didn’t even get to see the Founder formally surrender. The universe could be so cruel, so capricious at times. So, if Kasidy didn’t want to acknowledge that, who was he to blame or pity her? He wished that he could put on blinders too at times. “So, how is the book?” Jasmine asked, bringing Terrence thankfully back to the present.

“It’s…different,” He shook his head. “I did some research on Russell and the idea he had to fight to write stories about people that looked like us, or that the idea of a black…or Negro…captain was considered unthinkable by many, it boggles the mind.”

“Yes,” Jasmine said, wrapping her free hand in his. Glover appreciated the contact. His marriage had never been easy. The Dominion War had erupted shortly after their nuptials and then duty and injuries had driven a wedge between them. The best part of his downtime was trying to extricate that wedge. Even though he missed his ship, Terrence knew the Aegis crew was in good hands. And he knew that at the moment he was right where he needed to be. He squeezed her hand and together they walked over to the railing. They gazed in wonder at Lake Victoria’s majestic waterfalls.

It took him a few seconds to realize the soft buzzing against his chest was his compin. He tapped it underneath his jacket and said, “Glover here.” Jasmine frowned, and he smiled sheepishly.

“I thought you said you left it in the room?” Jasmine asked, absent any good humor.

“Sorry,” he shrugged.

“Captain Glover, this is Lt. T’Sari. Admiral Glover requests your presence in his office…immediately.”

“Tell my father, I’m on my way,” Terrence said, more loudly than he preferred, but he needed to make sure he was heard over the churning waters.

“Acknowledged,” T’Sari replied, “Standing by for beam out.”

“I’m sorry Jazz,” Glover offered, looking back up at his wife. But Jasmine folded her arms across her chest and turned away from him.

“You couldn’t leave your job behind for just one day,” she said, still not looking at him.

He reached out to her; “Jasmine, you know…” the transporter beam stole the rest of his words.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
Starfleet Headquarters
Earth

Captain Glover reigned in his frustration when he saw the array of personages in his father’s office. A bland looking human, with a tousled brown mop of hair, jumped out of his seat and offered a hand. He grabbed one of Terrence’s and began pumping, “Captain Glover, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve read about many of your exploits. The stand at Oberoi during the Klingon War, that’s going to be part of future military texts.”

“Oh…uh…thank you,” Terrence said, giving his father a side look. Samson stood up, as did the other people who had been seated around his desk. The small group included a well groomed Tellarite in a dark brown, fitted tunic with black pants, a tall and austere Ariolo, Fleet Admiral Shanthi, an old family friend, a Vulcan female in deep azure robes, and a trim female Andorian, with lieutenant commander pips on the mustard yellow collar of her Starfleet uniform.

“Terrence, may I introduce Mr. Garth Logan, President Santiago’s chief of staff,” Samson said.

“Oh,” Glover said, easing immediately. He took more control of the shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

“I’m glad that you’re going to be part of this planning session,” Logan said, his smile becoming more plastic by the second. He leaned forward and whispered in Glover’s ear, “Besides we need someone with field experience not twenty years plus old.”

Terrence tensed, not liking the slam against his father or Admiral Shanthi. He had never quite warmed to Starfleet’s Commander-in-Chief, but he did respect her.

“Terrence, I would also like you to meet Mr. Boraz, director of Starfleet Intelligence.” The Tellarite nodded. “Mr. Hetal’laal’ak, Federation Security Advisor.” The reptilian rapidly blinked in greeting. “Defense Minister T’Las,” the woman supplied a silent split-fingered salute. The admiral then turned to the Andorian, “And Lt. Commander Daruma, USS Baltimore.” The woman gave him an uncomfortable smile. Terrence spied an empty seat by Commander Daruma and headed toward it. Once he stood behind it, Admiral Glover said, “Please let’s all be seated.”

“Mr. Logan, would you like to start?”

“Of course,” Logan’s forced cheer gave way to a sober expression. “Starfleet Command received a communiqué, verified by Intelligence, that the Alshain are attempting to procure Starfleet vessels to reverse engineer their technology.”

“What?” Terrence asked, stunned. As far as he knew they were allies. Hell, he had nearly lost his life protecting the Alshain royal family a couple months back.

“The rogue Starship Ariane gave them a justification to pursue their plan,” the Security Advisor said, with obvious displeasure.

“Which we can’t allow them to succeed at,” T’Las added. “It could potentially upset the power balance even more in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants if the Alshain could field starships that were commensurate to our own.”

“They aren’t far off presently,” Boraz replied.

“Boraz is correct,” Admiral Shanthi said, “But it was their numbers and ferocity that allowed them to overtake Son’a technological superiority.”

“We have intelligence already detailing the Exarchate’s reverse engineering program for captured Son’a military hardware and weaponry,” Boraz said. “One of our biggest concerns was their appropriation of isolytic subspace weaponry.”

“Aren’t they signatories of the subspace weapons ban?” Logan asked around the room.

“No they are not,” T’Las replied.

“Which gives them cover for testing these weapons,” Hetal’laal’ak nearly hissed.
“But so far, there hasn’t been any data suggesting that they have done so,” Admiral Glover smoothly inserted himself into the conversation. Terrence could tell by the frayed nerves around the room that this group wasn’t in the mood to hear reason.

“It’s only a matter of time until they attempt it,” Boraz said with conviction. “The Allied victory has given them renewed confidence, as has their recent campaigns against the Son’a. Reading Alshain history, they will attempt to restore what was lost and then some.”

“Like the Klingons have attempted to do post-war?” Daruma finally spoke, “Or the Romulans, with their continued presence in the Benzar system.” The uncomfortable truths gave everyone pause.

“Commander Daruma is right,” Samson eventually waded back in. “We are giving the Klingons, and even the Romulans, more of a pass than the Alshain. Of course they are going to try to reestablish themselves as a quadrant power. There’s nothing shocking about that.”

“Sam is right too, in that regard,” Shanthi said. “And it’s our job to prevent them from becoming a threat to our interests.”

“And to that end, Commander Cherenkov of Aegis has proposed a plan to jettison his Alshain warder, find the Ariane and prevent its capture.”

“Do you trust Cherenkov to do this without making the situation worse?” Shanthi didn’t even attempt to disguise her distaste for Terrence’s First Officer.

“Cherenkov did provide us with this information about the Alshain plan for the Ariane,” Boraz came to the man’s defense before Terrence could.

“That’s why I asked Terrence to come here Thuosana,” Samson said. “He can vouch for Commander Cherenkov, furthermore to assuage the lingering doubts you’ll continue to have, Terrence can back him up; literally.”

“Admiral,” Terrence had almost called him Dad, “I don’t understand.” Samson looked his son squarely in the eye.

“Effective immediately, I’m placing you in command of the Starship Baltimore.”
********************************************************************

Palais de la Concorde
Paris, Earth
One day later…

President Martin Santiago put on his best smile. He was surprised that he had any left. Standing up, he held out his hand, “Good day Madame Envoy.”

“I’m not here to trade niceties with you Mr. President,” Envoy Zarah M’Zel said, her golden eyes flashing. The woman wore splendid blood red robes, embossed with intricate latinum-inlaid designs. That new getup had to be quite heavy, Santiago thought, but the ambassador bore it well; though the president had to wonder if her anger was providing her with an extra reserve of strength today. M’Zel waved away the president’s hand. He felt Garth Logan, his chief of staff, tense beside him. Logan had moved beside the president as soon as the ambassador stormed through the door, followed by the Martin’s security detail.

He had motioned for them to stand outside, but Garth had taken on the duties of bodyguard, though Santiago really thought that was unnecessary. However, Logan had been guarding him in more ways than one for years now. The breach of protocol seemed to upset Garth more than him. Santiago had more important things to worry about than the casual disrespect of an Alshain ambassador. Rebuilding the Federation after the most destructive war in its history occupied his every thought, even when Logan compelled him to campaign.

Santiago placed his hand back awkwardly at his side. With his other hand he gestured, “Please have a seat.”

“I would rather stand,” M’Zel huffed.

“As you wish,” Santiago said, sitting back down. Logan remained standing. M’Zel growled low in her throat at the chief of staff. She perceived Logan as a threat, and well she should Martin realized. Despite his somewhat mousy appearance Garth was not a man to be trifled with. “How may I help you today Madame Envoy?”

“I have just received reports that the Starship Aegis abrogated an agreement with our military forces to conduct a joint search. The Aegis transmitted a computer virus into one of our escort ships, hidden in telemetry data. Now the Aegis is unaccounted for in our space, just like the Ariane, and both ships have committed acts of war against the Exarchate! Not to mention we prevented a third Starfleet vessel, the Sutherland, from entering our space.”

“Don’t you mean the territory you annexed from the Son’a?” Logan shot back, and Martin winced. M’Zel flashed her incisors.

“Fleet Admiral Shanthi informed me that the Sutherland had since been reassigned,” Santiago said, but M’Zel wasn’t listening to him.

“Our annexation of Son’a territory was recognized by your administration,” M’Zel replied.

“Doesn’t make it right,” Logan riposted.

“Enough Garth,” Santiago said sharply.

“Neither does the countless trespassing into our territory from Federation citizens on self-professed humanitarian missions for our enemies. Those jaunts do nothing but provide the Son’a opportunities to propagandize the war in their favor.”

“I have advised Federation citizens to steer clear of contested areas,” Santiago said.

“But you’ve done nothing to stop them,” M’Zel shot back.

“And I will do nothing,” even Martin’s patience had limits. “Do you really expect me to redirect the Border Service to apprehend citizens on peaceful missions instead of protecting our borders from drugs or insurgents?” He asked, incredulous.

“I ask that you take action, before we do,” M’Zel said. “It’s too late for Ariane and Aegis, but you can at least prevent civilian casualties.”

“We don’t respond well to threats,” Logan warned. “And you will not harm one hair, gill, or otherwise from any Federation citizen, Starfleet or civilian.”

“Cool it Garth!” Martin said. He had to regain control of the situation.

“The Aegis and Ariane have committed crimes against the Exarchate. I am here merely as a complimentary gesture. My distaff cousin, the Exarch himself, felt it was necessary to inform you that we plan to capture and/or destroy both rogue ships.”

“I see,” Santiago said.

“I don’t,” Logan snapped.

“That’s enough Logan,” Santiago replied. “How about you take a walk?”

“Mr. President…I really don’t think that would be wise.”

“Do it anyway,” Martin said, his voice hardening.

“Yes sir,” Garth said tightly. He glared at M’Zel before stalking out of the room through a side exit.

Santiago turned his attention back to the envoy. She had a look of vindication on her white-furred, vulpine face. Sometimes he wished he had never run for President. He had come into office on a reform ticket. Martin had promised to scale back Starfleet’s reach after Admiral Leyton’s nearly successful coup. But two wars had prevented that and Santiago had ironically presided over the largest military buildup in Federation history.

And now he had to make deals with butchers. Martin knew another war would be disastrous for the Federation right now, and he would do everything in his power to prevent that from occurring. Though it rankled him that the Alshain knew of hesitancy and were playing it for all it was worth, overdrawing the political credit they built up as part of the wartime Federation Alliance. “We need to dial back the rhetoric and remember that we are allies.”

“Yes we…were, but it seems that many on Alshain Proper feel that many in the Federation have turned their sympathies to the Son’a.”

“That’s not the case, but even I am concerned about the stories I’ve read and the images I’ve seen of your war with the Son’a, and the collateral damage it has incurred.”

“War can unfortunately be an untidy affair at times, but the Starforce is committed to conducting it as surgically as possible,” M’Zel promised.

“It needs to do a better job,” Santiago said pointedly.

“And if that occurs,” M’Zel offered.

“Perhaps I can…increase more routine Border Service patrols along our shared border.”

“And what of the protests?” The envoy asked.

“Freedom of speech, the rights to assemble and protest are cornerstones of the Federation, I will never curtail them,” Santiago said, drawing the line.

M’Zel nodded and gave a slight bow. “I respect your position…but perhaps members of your administration could…tamp down some of their rhetoric about our campaign against the Son’a.”

“I’ll…take that under advisement,” Santiago said, not agreeing to her proposal, but wanting M’Zel to know it remained on the table. “The safe return of both the Ariane and Aegis would both go a long way toward repairing your image and our relationship.”

“I will pass on your suggestions,” M’Zel said, now in a far more charitable mood.

Well at least I accomplished one thing, Martin thought.
*****************************************************************

 

[BrotherBenny]

Phooey!

M'Zel can go chew on a bone for all I care. The Federation doesn't take kindly to threats against its citizens, military or civilian.

Glad to see Glover's gonna be back in the saddle though.

 

[DarKush]

Author's Note: I'm renaming Part Four "Clandestinations". I once saw this as the story title for a USS Liberator fanfic story and I thought the title was neat. I hope all this title changing isn't too confusing. It's just that the shape of the story is changing and I've added new layers, with the Baltimore subplot, etc. This is the last section before going on to the fifth chapter in this story.

**************************************************************

Central Ministries Complex
Governance Arcology
Alshain Proper

“I can’t believe the Exarch has agreed to this,” Lady Nola D’Noth, Technology Minister, intimated. “Are we not close to capturing not one, but two Starfleet vessels? The wealth of technology they could provide not only our military but our civilian industries would be immeasurable.”

“I’m not denying that,” War Minister Orthlin C’Oemnm replied, “But I advised the Exarch to pursue this course of action. The Federation is war weary; they won’t interfere with our plans, unless they are unduly provoked. There are some in my department, not to mention among the Peerage entire that feels we are strong enough to take on the Federation. I am not in that number, and thankfully the Exarch presently isn’t either. He believes a conflict is inevitable however, but not now.”

“How long will that last with L’Bek and T’Riav whispering in his ears?” D’Noth said, wrinkling her snout as if she smelled something foul.

“I don’t know,” C’Oemnm answered truthfully, “But I think it is in the best interest of the Exarchate to hold off the warmongers as much as possible. The Son’a are proving more resilient than anticipated.”

“No insult old friend, but the plans to cleanse not only the Son’a, but the Tarlac and Ellora from captured space has denied us potential allies against the Imperium,” D’Noth said.

C’Oemnm frowned, stroking the long fur strand hanging off his chin. “That was not my intention, but I am not an island here. That was one policy that the hardliners were able to enact despite my disapproval. They took it directly to the Exarch and he wants a species pure Greater Alshain.” The War Minister said; his expression now regretful. “However, I sense our stalemates are being caused by more than the Tarlac and Ellora fighting with their Son’a masters. There is another player, or players in this war.”

“Do you have any idea who they might be?” D’Noth asked, leaning forward, her ears pinned back against her head and her eyes keen with interest.

“Not at the moment,” C’Oemnm responded, anger seeping into his tone. “The Unguis has not discovered who they might be. It could be anyone, Cardassians, Breen, Orions, Valerians, or some other irregular forces.”

“I’m sure you’ll find them eventually,” D’Noth said, with some much needed optimism. “Now that the Exarch has agreed to allow Starfleet to recover their vessels in exchange for increased border patrols near our conflict zones to prevent their news agencies or aid workers from entering our space, not to mention softening the rhetoric coming from Earth, there is the possibility that our relationship with the Federation can be repaired.”

“I hope so,” C’Oemnm leaned back, and sighed. “And the loss of the two starships won’t be a total loss. We still have the ships captured during the war and right after. Many weren’t functioning, but still they’ve already proven invaluable to our war efforts.”

“Yes, they have,” D’Noth grinned. “But still…functioning vessels and live crew to elicit information from,” she shook her head wistfully.

“I know,” C’Oemnm said sympathetically, “but it’s a small price to pay to prevent a conflict with the Federation. In the final analysis we gave up little to silence their talk of sanctions or military actions against us.”

“That is, if they keep their word,” D’Noth intoned sagely. “What M’Zel told you wasn’t concrete. It seemed more like inferences than actual policy changes.”

“Correct,” the War Minister said, “But Zarah has lived among the humans long enough to detect their subtleties. She also knows that Santiago is in a precarious position. Removing us from his plate of worries in his election year would be a boon for him. He can’t come out and appear to overly favor us.”

“I’m not as sanguine about the president’s intentions as you are,” D’Noth admitted. “He also has to contend with the Federation Council, Starfleet Command, and public opinion. Who’s to say that Santiago doesn’t get overruled?”

“Santiago is a patriot. He has no choice but to maintain amity to with us. He knows how disastrous a war would be against us right now,” C’Oemnm, “It would destroy us, but it would cripple them even further. They can’t afford that right now. So we must take advantage while we can.”
********************************************************************
USS Baltimore
Conference Room

Captain Terrence Glover sat at the head of the delta-shaped conference table. This feels so wrong, he thought as he looked out at his new crew. Who the hell are these people? He wondered. Around the table sat a diverse crew: Dr. Sanz, a silver-haired Vulcan, Lt. Lemira Taz, the joined Trill operations chief, Lt. Dennis Baird, the human tactical officer, Lt. Fatima Basri, head of security, Lt. Lelex, the Edoan flight control officer, and Lt. Hideo Konishi, Baltimore’s chief engineer. He hadn’t had enough time to review the service dossiers Lt. Commander Daruma had supplied him before they disembarked. But Terrence knew it would be wrong, and not at all in his character, to display weakness or doubt to his subordinates.

“My apologies for this truncated introduction,” Glover intoned solemnly. “As you well know by now I am Baltimore’s new commanding officer. Captain Garcia, who had been assigned to Baltimore, has been reassigned.” He shifted to the prim Andorian sitting to his right. “Commander Daruma, please inform the senior staff of our new mission.”

Daruma curtly nodded. “Starfleet Intelligence has uncovered evidence that the Alshain Starforce has a secret shipyard in the Inci System, where they have compiled hulks from Allied and Dominion ships from the war. SI suspects they are reverse engineering the technology culled from the ships.” Glover gauged the varied looks across his new staff at the sobering news. He was a little unsettled that most seemed unfazed. Had the war made everyone so damned cynical?

“Furthermore, SI believes that Alshain forces are responsible for attacking and procuring ships since the war’s end.” Now that did get more shocked looks.

Glover cleared his throat and Daruma halted. The captain waded in, “Our mission is to confirm if this secret base does exist and to bring back as much intelligence about it that we can gather.”

“SI doesn’t have more clandestine ways to do this?” Lt. Konishi asked, more curious than disapproving. “We’re pretty noticeable.”

“Those ways haven’t met with much success,” Glover replied. “And the Unguis has been pretty good at rooting out spies. We can’t even be certain this shipyard exists, or that the Alshain haven’t taken up root and placed it elsewhere.”

“Baltimore has been assigned because we have the firepower to handle the Alshain if things go awry for us as well,” Daruma added.

“I sort of hope they do,” Lt. Baird confessed. “I’ve been thinking that the Alshain have needed their snouts bloodied for a good long while now.”

Lt. Basri recoiled at her colleagues comments. Normally Glover would’ve shut comments like Baird’s down, but he wanted to get a feel for this crew and how the interacted with one another. “Just because we are an Akira, doesn’t mean we can take on a whole squadron of Alshain vessels,” Basri said, barely hiding her distaste.

“The Alshain did acquit themselves quite ably during the war,” Lelex offered.

“Yeah, one whole month of it,” Baird said dismissively. “They came in at the last minute and now are acting like the galaxy owes them something. I know a bully when I see one…”

“I bet you do,” Basri cut in. Baird smirked.

“That’s enough, you two,” Daruma stepped in. She glanced at Glover, her brows uplifting as if in apology. He merely smiled.

“I think that Mr. Konishi made a salient point,” Sanz replied, his tone arid. “Stealth isn’t one of the Baltimore’s attributes.”

“No, it isn’t,” Glover replied. “But that’s part of why Command wants us to do this. They want to send a message to the Alshain. We know what you’re doing, and if you continue to do so, there will be repercussions. I think sending an Akira to do that is sending a pretty damn big stick.”

“I just hope the higher ups follow through on this,” Baird said, and Glover had to admit he was impressed that the tactical officer was so blunt, particularly around his new commanding officer. “We don’t want to cry wolf too many times around the Alshain.” Konishi and Lelex groaned audibly and Basri rolled her eyes. “Hey, what?” Baird asked, looking around the room.

“Stow it Mr. Baird,” Daruma said, a chuckle pregnant in her tone.

“If we’re not doing this quietly, if we’re pretty much announcing our presence, won’t that constitute a violation of Alshain space, an act of war?” Basri asked.

“I suppose it’s about saving face,” Taz said. “We’re giving the Alshain an out. They won’t protest too loudly about this violation of their space due to the nature of the violation. It gives them a chance to quietly dismantle the shipyards.” Glover nodded in agreement.

“Lt. Taz is correct,” the captain said. He paused, gathering his words. “We don’t know each other, but from what I am aware of, Baltimore performed ably during and after the war. I expect nothing less on this mission. Go prepare your departments.”

He stood up, signaling the conference was over. Now the fun can begin, the captain thought.
********************************************************************
USS Baltimore
Private Quarters

“What happened to Captain Garcia?”

“He met…with an unfortunate accident,” the person on the secured line spoke. “We believe counter elements were involved.”

“Just like the placement of Glover onboard this ship?”

“Perhaps,” the other person replied, noncommittally. “Is he going to be a problem?”

“No,” there was an unwelcome flicker of doubt. “He is just one man.”

“But he is the captain. If he can’t be made to see reason, or neutralized, then our plans for the Inci Shipyards could be jeopardized.”

“Do worry, leave it to me.”
********************************************************************