Dark Territory: Pandora's Jar

[DarKush]

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

IRW Cuirass
Command Deck

Captain Glover restrained himself from drawing his firearm as he resolved in the center of the bridge. Lt. Baird wasn’t so amicable. “Put that away Mr. Baird,” Glover barked as he gazed at the similarly distrusting Remans. Half a dozen encircled them with drawn disruptors and jagged bladed weapons. Baird glanced at Glover, his weapon not wavering. “Now,” Glover repeated. The Tactical Officer slowly dropped his phaser. The captain glanced at the rest of the away team to see if they also needed to be upbraided.

“Lower your weapons,” Chieftain Crixus rasped. The Remans quickly complied. The Reman leader stepped through the circle. It was the first Reman the captain had ever seen up close. The man’s skin was a pale, almost translucent gray, with deep-set yellow eyes and a mouthful of tiny, sharpened teeth. All of the Remans wore iridescent uniforms that gleamed on the darkened bridge. In fact Glover was having trouble seeing, but the Remans seemed unperturbed by the dim lighting. “I am Crixus,” the Reman said, holding out a hand. “Isn’t this the proper human greeting?”

Terrence grasped the man’s cold hand and shook it firmly. “Yes, it is. I’m Terrence Glover,” he said, deciding to eschew titles since the Reman had. “Thank you for your help.”

“It is I would should thank you,” Crixus said. “Your Federation can provide us with a freedom we have only been able to imagine.”

“Chieftain,” Glover began, searching for the right words. “I…can’t promise you asylum. Not just yet.” There was a noticeable rumble among the circle of Remans. Crixus was nonplussed.

“Your Starfleet will give us sanctuary and more,” Crixus replied with confidence. “Once we provide them with the polaric ion research the Romulans have been working on.”

Terrence didn’t want to reveal his curiosity. “Of course, we would like to take a look at that data first.”

Crixus gave a curt bow and gestured toward the bridge’s turbolift. “I can do better than provide you data, I can give you a working generator. Please follow me.”
********************************************************************
USS Monarch
Main Bridge

“What just happened?” Commander Astar leapt from her seat, her head turning back and forth from the bridge to the captain. The deck beneath her rumbled again.

Lt. Torkill called out, “A second quantum torpedo launched.” His voice was drenched in confusion and Captain Walker didn’t look any more lucid. The missile slammed into the underside of the Romulan starship, knifing into the guts of the ship. The viewscreen’s image changed to the burning bridge of the Griffin. The subcommander, heavy black smudges on her face, was slumped to one side in her seat. One side of her uniform was as dark as the marks across her face, and one of her arms was bent at an unnatural angle. Splashes of green blood showed brightly against her crisped countenance.

“You’ve fired on us with no provocation,” she charged, though pain robbed her allegation of vehemence. “You’ve just thrown your Federation into war with the Empire.”

“I…we…didn’t,” Walker said quietly, but the subcommander was beyond him now. Her head lolled back and she slid out of the seat. The image blinked back to a view of the warship. Fires had broken out across its hull.

“Third quantum torpedo launch,” Torkill said.

“On whose authority?” Astar snapped, turning her attention away from the captain and to the Kobheerian.

He looked at his panel, his face twisting with rage. He pounded it before looking up. “I…I don’t know.”

“Find out who then,” she ordered. “And shut down all weapons systems until you do.”

“Aye sir,” Torkill began.

“Belay that,” Walker finally spoke.

“But sir,” Astar protested. “Someone has gained remote access to our tactical array. Someone has attacked that vessel without your authority.”

Walker tugged hard on his uniform tunic. “Don’t you think I’m aware of that!” he grumbled. “But shutting down our entire weapon’s array is too dangerous. We don’t know what other Romulan ships are lurking out here.”

“What good is having our weapons system operational if we aren’t in control of it?” Though the arguments between her and Ben were few, and never in public, Leza couldn’t help herself. This was a serious situation, the entire crew was endangered. Who knew what else this mystery person had access to on the ship? And Walker was acting too blasé, uncharacteristically unconcerned. She gasped, her eyes narrowing.

The captain knew more than he was telling her. More secrets, the Trill realized. “Render assistance to the Romulan vessel,” Walker ordered. The viewer shifted again, this time to a rawboned young Romulan male. He was now occupying the subcommander’s seat, and Leza could see that he had hastily pinned her rank bar onto the collar of his uniform. He glared daggers at the Monarch crew. Walker repeated his offer for aid.

The Romulan laughed. “You blindside us and then offer to imprison us as a ‘mercy’?” He sat forward in his seat so that they could see him clearly through the smoke and flames. Astar knew she would never forget the look of utter contempt on his face. “I can’t wait until we meet in Erebus!”

“Massive energy spike in their singularity engine,” Liyange reported.

Oh gods, Astar thought. “They are going to destroy themselves.”

“Back us off,” Walker said, “Full impulse.” Ensign Jonda moved quickly as the ship reversed course from the igniting the Griffin. The shockwave from its destruction washed over the Monarch, with thankfully little negative impact. The bridge still held its breath for a full minute afterward. Once the last of the waves had dissipated and nothing but debris remained of the warship, Walker turned to the helm. “Resume course to the Inci System,” he said dryly before heading to the ready room. Without looking back, he said, “Commander Astar, you’ve got the bridge.”

But Astar took off after him. She wasn’t going to let him get off that easy.
********************************************************************

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Just getting caught up - that last chapter was a scorcher! I don't think the conversation in the turbo-lift between Astar and Walker is going to be pleasant.

I'm amazed how well you are keeping all the plot-threads tethered. And, I'm glad to see the many different characters showing up from the UT universe - this is a fun ride!

 

[CeJay]

A starship firing torpedoes without orders from the captain? Where have I seen that before?

Monarch is a messed up ship at the moment and one can only feel pity for Astar. I wonder how far she'll go to try and straighten things out again. Will she take over command or will she eventually decide to go along quietly?

 

[Dnoth]

Lots of hidden hands and agendas here. It is amazing how many angles you are working into this.

 

[Galen4]

Well, I'm sort of reading this bass ackwards, so I need to start from the beginning. But I'm really enjoying the broad canvas you're painting here. I'll give more thoughts once I get up to date on this story.

Great use of Zorek, BTW. It's nice to finally see a little back history for him.
And thanks for the welcome to UT. I'm already having a blast.

 

[DarKush]

Thanks everyone for reading and commenting. CeJay, Star Trek 6 is my favorite Trek film and I took a little inspiration from it with the ship firing stuff.

Galen, I'm glad you like what I did with Zorek. T'Prell is my resident V'Shar agent and I thought she might have ties to a venerable Vulcan Starfleet captain like Zorek. I've sort of thought about them becoming acquaintances on a mission dealing with the Vulcan Isolationist Movement, but its just a thought. Perhaps its something we could work on jointly in the future.

And D'Noth I don't know I'm keeping this all together myself to be honest .

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

Dark Realm

“This mode of locomotion you call walking is most perplexing,” Heol observed, with evident delight. “It must take you extremely long periods to arrive at your destinations.”

Ivan couldn’t respond. Spasms still rolled through his body from being possessed. The female shade had erupted from his mouth only seconds ago. He could still feel the taint of her essence inside him. She had inhabited every part of him, invading every memory, capturing every thought, grafting herself onto his soul. He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt clean and she had made him feel even dirtier. His nostrils twitched at the pungent odor of the vomit that had followed the creature’s exit. Specks of it ran down his uniform, though fortunately most of it was pooled at his feet.

The female reformed quickly and stood beside him. Both aliens now flanked him. She glanced down at Ivan, “I warned you,” she said coldly.

He glared back at her. “You had no right,” his throat felt raw, his voice rasping. “You violated me.”

Her laughter was brittle, disbelieving. “Some species have warred to extinction for the privilege I just willingly afforded you. I gave you a piece of the universe. I returned you to your fundamental essence. You should be grateful, but your kind never is.”

“Alien possession isn’t something I find rewarding,” Cherenkov shot back.

“Please Genip,” Heol pleaded, addressing his counterpart. “Bonding is new for him…for all of them really. How can they understand what we offer? So much knowledge about us has been lost over the millennia. It’s really not his fault.”

“Ivan,” Heol said, wrapping an arm around the Russian’s shoulder as if they were friends. He tried not to flinch. Heol gently directed his attention forward. “I told you that your crew was safe.” Ivan glanced down from the catwalk. His lips drew into a tight line and his face reddened with anger. The aliens had placed what appeared to be every member of the Aegis’s crew in the shuttle bay. He recognized many and some he couldn’t place; others he knew instinctively had to have come from the Ariane. They were all laid out, apparently unconscious. Dozens of creatures like Heol and Genip hovered over them, in groupings that looked like dark clouds. They dithered for seconds or minutes, some entering prone crewmembers while others moved on to another batch.

“What are they doing?” Ivan asked, still scouring the group. He had yet to spot Aquiel.

“They are searching for the Select. The Heralds that will serve as our ambassadors to the organic species.”

“And what does this selection entail?” Ivan had forced himself to choose his words carefully. “More possession?”

“Possession is such a negative word,” Heol said, his tone distressed. “The Heralds are reliquaries; you will hold one of us, a most solemn duty, and a sacred honor.”

“I beg to differ,” Cherenkov replied. “Not when we are not allowed to choose to be your Heralds.”

“See,” Genip sighed. “I told you these organics are unworthy.”

“The bonding will decide that,” Heol replied.

“Will we all receive this ‘gift’?” Ivan asked, resuming his search for Aquiel.

“No,” Heol said. “Only a few, those who can withstand the bonding will be our Heralds. The others will become Carriers for Unity.”

“Unity?” Cherenkov asked.

“It is the way we spread unison to all lesser beings,” Genip said with relish.

“It is a process by which even the imperfect can share in the tapestry of the universe,” Heol added, admonition in his voice. “There is no lesser or superior here. There is only the Great Dark, from which we all emerged.”

“And you, with your warp engines and subspace weapons, your mindless wars, threaten to rend,” Genip accused. “We will put a stop to your abuse of creation by bringing you into our Unity, by returning you to the primordial essence from which the universe sprung.”

“What if we don’t want to go anywhere? What if we like where we are just fine?” Ivan turned to the shifting Genip. She was changing form more rapidly, a sign of her own growing frustration the Russian realized. He was glad he wasn’t the only one.

“You’re desires no longer matter. They are what have led us to awaken from our slumber in the first place,” Genip retorted. “And once you feel the embrace of Unity, once the darkness within you is released into the great obsidian sea, you will be beyond petty, limited protest. You will simply be.”

“And it will be peaceful,” Heol added. “We can give you the peace you will never find on your plane, in your realm. You are at war with nature, not in harmony with it. We offer harmony.”

Ivan shook his head. “You offer subjugation! We just fought a war to fend off enslavers, and we won’t willingly chain ourselves to you, even for this so-called ‘unity’ and ‘peace’ you offer.”

“You don’t have a choice in the matter,” Genip replied. “Heol it was a waste trying to reason with one so callow. Soon the Carriers with return with the power we seek. Soon we will spread among the stars again.”

“What is she talking about?” Ivan demanded, turning to Heol. “And not every member of my crew is here? Where are the rest?”

If Genip had a mouth, Cherenkov knew she would’ve been smiling when she said, “He speaks of the Haliian. He loves her.” Ivan was pained that this creature could strip him of his most intimate thoughts and lay it bare before him and Heol. He hadn’t even come to full terms with the truth that Genip had casually toss out as if were trash. The Russian turned back to her.

“How dare you!”

“Do you deny it?” Genip asked, mocking. “And why should you? It’s not like I care one way or the other.”

“Where is Aquiel? Or Dr. Cole for that matter? What are you doing for them?”

“Something most special,” Heol said. “Beings with their talents will become Loci.”

“Loci?” Ivan asked, his stomach tightening with concern.

“Telepaths, empaths…mind speakers, beings such as these, they serve as our Loci; they are conduits that allow us to communicate with the Carriers.”

“They also tend our shadow blooms, the spores which spread our Unity,” Genip explained with a sneering boredom as if Ivan were an oaf.

“I want to see Aquiel,” Ivan demanded.

“I’m afraid that is impossible,” Heol said. “Once the conversion process has begun, any disruption could be disastrous.”

“But of course the conversion process is much more perilous than our simple bonding,” Genip added with a joyful nastiness. “Mind speakers tend to be much more disruptive, and an imperfect and incomplete conversion often shred their minds, if not their bodies and souls. Only the rarest of the converts will survive, only the strongest, only the most stable. And I know you question the Haliian’s stability.”

“Stop the conversion now,” Cherenkov said.

“No,” Genip simply responded.

“We cannot,” Heol said, with what sounded almost like genuine sadness. “I am sure that the Haliian will be one of the survivors.”

“I guarantee she will,” Ivan promised. Without warning, he jumped back, towards the door. It slid open and he shot out of it. He tapped his combadge, and was happy to know it still worked. “Computer,” he said, between puffs as he rushed down the hallway, “Where is Lt. Commander Uhnari?” After the computer told him, he said, “Computer, initiate self-destruct sequence.”

He had uttered the first code when he slammed into a black wall. He fell back, his nose broken, the blood gushing down and covered the dried flecks of vomit on his uniform. He hit the deck hard, sharp pains shooting through his hip. The wall quickly took on a feminine form. “I am not as amused by you as Heol.” The end of one of her arms morphed into a scythe. She held it aloft as she slowly approached him. On all fours he scuttled backward, until he hit another wall. Glancing up, he thought it was Heol, shaking his head regretfully.

“Heol?” Ivan called, with more hope than he thought possible.

“Your defiance makes you unsuitable for bonding.” It was the basso voice. Ivan heard a soft rustling in front of him. He tore his eyes away from the deep-voiced creature, back to Genip. It was just in time to the down slash of her scythe arm. It was aimed for his head.
*******************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

Once again I have to say that I'm really digging what you're doing with Unity. I had not idea where you were going with this but I like it.

Heol, the more reasonable alien might be Ivan's only hope. Or maybe Ariel and Cole could be the first to hand these aliens their first defeat.

In any case, somebody has to do something and soon to stop this menace from spreading any further.

 

[DarKush]

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IRW Cuirass

Captain Glover stood back as his engineers poured over the polaric ion generator with sensing equipment. “Fascinating,” the Vulcan technician remarked as he ran a spanner over the oblong device. The generator was placed in a transparent tube dominating the center of the lab. Spidery cracks ran the length of the tube. The tube’s hatch had been opened and the Vulcan had stuck his arm through it to get a closer reading. Lt. Baird stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was warily eyeing the device.

“We have affected most of repairs to the generator, incurred during the battle,” Crixus remarked. “It works.”

“Not as well as you might think,” Lt. Patricia Doriss ran a nervous hand through her short-cropped strawberry blonde hair. “The generator is leaking trace amounts of polaric ion radiation.”

Glover looked at Crixus and the chieftain in turn grilled the Reman female at his side. “I thought you had assured me that the radiation leakage had been contained.”

“Our sensors perhaps are not as finely calibrated,” the female retorted, not giving an inch. “It isn’t like the Romulans cared about our well being.”

“Well, we do,” Glover said. “Lt. Doriss, does this exposure pose any danger?”

“Not at the present moment sir, but I wouldn’t recommend spending any extended period of time in this lab,” the engineer concluded.

“I recommend we vacate the lab,” Terrence said.

“Of course,” Crixus ordered his crew to leave and the Baltimore team followed suit. Once everyone was outside, the Reman leader apologized. “I will install a containment field around the lab, sealing it off, until we can stop the leaking.”

“If I may sir,” Doriss raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “I was wondering if I, and Luvok,” she nodded in the direction of the Vulcan, “could grab some EVA suits and continue our research of the generator?”

“That’s not necessarily my call,” Glover said. “Chieftain?”

“Of course,” Crixus said. He gestured at the Reman female. “Prisca will work with you.”

“I would also like to stick around,” Baird said. Terrence checked with Crixus who had no complaints.

“That’s fine, Lt. Basri can handle things at tactical until you return,” Glover remarked. “I’m not anticipating any more Romulans showing up.” He turned back to Crixus. “There aren’t any more cloaked vessels in this sector of space are there?”

“I do not know,” the Reman said truthfully. “Commander Volok did not share such information with us. I can tell you that there were several Alshain warships at Inci Shipyards. They might come looking for us once they realize that our ambush party will not return.”

“How long might that be?” Glover asked. Crixus shrugged.

“Picking up human idioms quite quickly I see,” Glover remarked.

“I…have served with your kind before,” Crixus replied cryptically, “during the war.” Though Terrence hadn’t heard much about Starfleet forces allying with the Remans during the Dominion War it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.

“Well, I guess we had better get this generator shipshape as fast as we can, if we want to present it to Command without irradiating everyone,” Glover replied. “Please lead us to your transporter room.”

The contingent quickly made their way to the nearest transporter station. While Crixus was tapping in the release code on the room’s companel, the ship pitched so violently that it threw everyone to the floor. Sparks ran along the ceiling, blowing out the lighting and quickly filling the corridor with the smell of burned circuits and wiring. An eerie blood green light replaced the normal dim lighting. On Romulan vessels, Glover knew that was an indicator that something very bad had just happened. On all fours, his sides burning, the captain checked the rest of the contingent. Both Crixus and Prisca were already back on their feet, though both seemed unsteady. Baird was slowly rising too. Doriss was checking Luvok. The blood covering the man’s face matched the dread-inducing lighting.

Glover knew death when he saw it. He clutched at his right side, where the fire raged he most intensely. Probably cracked a rib, he thought. He tried to ignore his pain as he attempted to stand up. Agony flashed hotly, whiting out his sight and he sunk back to the floor. “Captain Glover,” he heard the gravelly voice. It sounded miles away. Blackness began creeping into the corners of his vision. Hurt worse than I thought, he realized, the thud of his head against the deck barely registered. “Your captain is hurt,” was the last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him.

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

Dark Realm

Aquiel? Is that you? She heard the voice in her mind as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud. It was a Dr. Cole.

“Doctor,” Aquiel whispered. There was no response. She tried to raise her voice but found she couldn’t. Something was pressing down on her chest, squeezing the oxygen from her lungs. She squinted, concentrating hard before projecting her thoughts outward. Doctor Cole?

Haliians had limited telepathic abilities that were greatly enhanced through the use of the canar, which allowed Haliians to share their thoughts with others, typically intimates. It was painful stretching her psionic abilities without the use of the canar as an amplifier, but the engineer knew her life depended on it. Doctor Cole? She asked again.

I am here, the woman answered. Beside you. Aquiel saw nothing but darkness surrounding. She tried to reach out, to find the medic in the gloom but realized that she was immobile.

What did they do to you? How can you communicate with me like this? Aquiel asked.

I am a telepath, Cole admitted. Surely you didn’t think I was just that good of a doctor, though my skills are admittedly impressive. How the woman could joke at a time like this was beyond Aquiel.

You are a telepath? She asked, incredulous, and you kept this a secret why?

Yes, Cole’s voice trailed off in her mind. It’s been a curse, she finally said. How could I know if I was truly good at anything or if I was just plucking the right answers from other’s minds? Also, to be privy to the thoughts of others is most unseemly and doubtless would not make me the most popular girl in school. Even today some look upon Betazoids with suspicion. My parents didn’t want anyone looking at me that way, and I didn’t either. So I hid my telepathic abilities and learned to control them discreetly with help from a Betazoid business associate of my father.

But…I didn’t even know that humans could be psionic, Aquiel blurted.

There is some extrasensory perception in a lot of humans but only a very scant number are full blown telepaths like me, Cole admitted. Most of those don’t make it so well out in the galaxy. Many of them have suffered severe mental problems. I was one of the lucky ones.

You call this luck? Aquiel scoffed. Cole’s laughter felt like hearing a favorite song she hadn’t heard in ages come on subspace radio.

No, I call it being encased in some type of bioplasmic organic matter, Cole said.

Come again? Though her head throbbed with pain, the mental communication was becoming easier for Aquiel. She pondered if the medic had something to do with that.

I think we, and the others are covered in some bioplasmic matter, Cole continued.

Others?

Yes, the other psionics. There are over a dozen sharing this space with us.

Why can’t I hear them?

Your psi-level is not powerful enough. It is difficult even for me to maintain contact with you and some of the other low-levelers for extended periods. It’s like moving through mud.

Why did they separate us from the others?

Don’t you mean from Ivan?

I didn’t….how did you know?

I’m inside your brain remember?

Ah…of course.

From what I gather, they have a special purpose for us.

What would that be?

I don’t know, Cole answered, her voice troubled. But we must be prepared for the worst.

Somehow I suspected that, Aquiel replied.
********************************************************************

 

[DarKush]

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

USS Monarch
Captain’s Ready Room

Captain Walker pulled up short and Commander Astar piled into him. He glared down at her. “I didn’t request your presence Leza.”

“I didn’t ask,” she shot back. “Captain, Benjamin, just what the hell just happened out there? Who fired those quantums? Who destroyed that ship?” The questions poured from her lips and each one sounded like an accusation, but Astar couldn’t help it. The safety of the crew might be at stake, and the captain was holding out on her.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Sir, with all due respect,” the Trill said tightly, reigning in what she had originally intended to say, “That’s not going to fly this time. You know you can trust me, with whatever is happening. I won’t go back onto that bridge without hearing the full story.”

Walker frowned. He tugged down hard on his uniform. “Well, I’ve guess you’ve made this easy for me. Commander Astar you’re confined to your quarters for the duration of this mission.”

The Trill shook her head. “Benjamin, what are you hiding? What has you so rattled?”

“You’re dismissed,” he huffed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Astar declared. “Not until I hear the truth.”

“Fine,” he replied wearily. He tapped his compin. “Walker to Torkill.”

“Aye sir?” Came the prompt reply.

“I need you in the ready room immediately,” Walker said. “I want you to escort Commander Astar to the brig.”

“Excuse me sir?” The Kobheerian asked, and Astar took a stunned step backward.

“You can’t keep this under wraps by incarcerating me,” Astar said. “You will have to answer for this sometime.”

The captain activated the communicator again. “Double time it Mr. Torkill.”

Astar took a step forward. “Ben, think about what you’re doing. I can’t help you if I’m locked up.”

“Leza, I’m beyond help,” Walker replied. “At least it won’t be the both of us going down. Believe it or not, I’m saving your career, and more importantly your self-respect.”

“I don’t understand,” Astar said, shaking her head in disbelief. “What do you mean?” He turned his back to her and the room’s door swished open. Torkill rushed in. He paused, unsure beside Astar. With his back to them both, Walker lowered his head and softened his voice.

“Get on with it, Mr. Torkill.”

“Aye sir,” Torkill reluctantly took one of Astar’s elbows. “I don’t need to draw my firearm do I?” With his free hand he pointed down at the phaser clipped to this belt. He asked them both.

“Leza?” Walker asked, still not turning around.

“Of course not,” she retorted. “Some of us still respect regulations.” Walker’s shoulders slumped at her dig but still he refused to face her.

“Come with me Commander,” Torkill gently nudged the Trill out of the office. Even though Leza didn’t want to, and her face was scarlet with embarrassment, she met the eyes of everyone on the bridge with her head held high. She had nothing to be ashamed of. In time they would all see that, she just hoped that it wasn’t before the captain placed the ship in even greater jeopardy.

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

USS Monarch
Captain’s Ready Room

Walker plopped down behind his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of Saurian brandy. Forgoing a tumbler, he drank from the bottle. The burning liquid felt good going down his throat. He imagined it washing away his sins. Just like he had probably washed away his friendship with Leza. They had served together for a long time, and he had treasured her counsel, and over time had come to even view her as a daughter. But he had just betrayed her, spat in her face like he had on his oath to Starfleet. And there was no going back now.

He opened a secure line, intraship. “It was you, wasn’t it?” He roared without preamble.

“Yes,” Petrov said softly. His rage was mollified by the sad look in the woman’s eyes. She wasn’t enjoying this, he realized. Benjamin had thought she would be gloating, amused at how she could take command of his ship at her whim, but she seemed just as tortured by her actions as he was. “I did what had to be done. I did what you couldn’t do.”

“You broke the law,” Walker said. “You murdered hundreds of people!”

“Do you think for one moment that Romulan subcommander wouldn’t have blasted us all to atoms if she had had the upper hand?” Petrov’s cheeks grew rosy. “They weren’t civilians. They were soldiers, and they had murdered a Section 31 agent and destroyed a ship. Revenge isn’t always pretty, but sometimes it’s necessary.”

“So is that what your section authorities?” Walker charged. “Wanton, cold blooded murder?”

“No,” Petrov said. “Removing an enemy from the board, one that would’ve alerted their superiors about our presence and brought other Romulan warships in to stop us. I couldn’t allow that to happen. And I saved you from having to personally deal with it. Perhaps you should be grateful.”

Walker threw up his hands. “I can’t believe you. You think I’m grateful that you can just override the ship’s systems anytime you feel like it? For the benefit of your Section 31?”

“Our Section 31,” Petrov corrected. Walker’s face contorted with disgust. As much as he hated it, she was right. And that made him even angrier.

“How long have you had a backdoor to the mainframe?”

“Three years,” Petrov said.

“Three years?” He was aghast.

“As hostilities with the Dominion began heating up, it was recommended that I find a way to take full control of the ship if necessary, in the event that we were boarded by enemy forces.”

He shook his head, wishing he could be in denial. “So, you’ve been betraying me and this ship, putting our lives in additional danger even before the war started.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Petrov nodded. “But my protocols also served as a backup system to prevent an outside force from gaining control of this vessel.”

“Just how am I going to explain what happened to the crew? To Command?”

“Don’t worry about Command,” Petrov said, “as for the crew, just tell them it was a malfunction.”

“Three malfunctions?” Walker forced himself not to laugh hysterically. “Of quantum torpedoes?”

“I’ll provide conclusive proof.” Petrov assured him.

“That won’t satisfy everyone,” Walker remarked. A light went on in the engineer’s eyes.

“Commander Astar?” She asked. And Benjamin nodded.

“Well, I recommend you bring all of your persuasiveness to bear to convince her otherwise,” Petrov said, leaning forward. “I like Leza…I really do, but….”

“You wouldn’t?” Walker sat back, stunned.

“You know I would,” Petrov stated simply. “Unless of course she sees reason. The balls in your court Benjamin.” She deactivated the link, leaving him alone again with his thoughts, which was the last place the captain wanted to be.
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

As despicable Walker's action maybe, confining Lezla to the brig was probably the best move he could make given the circumstances. It's not like the man can save any part of his career after this save perhaps a full-time job with S31.

But now it seems that throwing her into the brig might not have been enough to keep her out of this entirely.

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
IRW Cuirass

“Captain, are you alright?” Glover’s eyes fluttered open at the question. He squinted, his vision wavering before resolving on the bruised face of Lt. Basri.

“I should be asking you that question,” he quipped. He tried to rise, and pain erupted from his chest like a lava flow. Basri gently pressed him back down, but he really didn’t need any encouragement to remain prone.

“The Baltimore,” the Security Officer began, as if reading his mind, “It’s…gone,” the woman’s voice hitched. “It exploded.”

“What?” Terrence tried to sit up, and the pain flared more intensely, but he fought against it. There was no way that he could take that information lying down.

“It appears that there was a warp core breach, something lingering from the battle,” Lt. Baird said, his shadow blotting out what wan light was in the corridor. “Lelex beamed as many of our crew over as he could.”

“What about him?” Terrence’s chest was hurting so badly that even stringing together that short question left him panting. Basri shook her head.

“Captain, you’ve suffered several cracked ribs, and I’m afraid there might be internal bleeding,” Baird replied. “It’s best that you limit verbal communication until we can get you into their medical bay, or what passes for it.”

“And that might be a problem,” Basri added. “For one, the ship is filled almost beyond capacity with survivors from Baltimore, and the shockwaves from the explosion have knocked out the ship’s main systems…including life support.”

Glover opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. He merely nodded, and made a few jabbing gestures with his fingers. Both junior officers were deft enough to catch on. But Basri nodded her head in protest. “I’m not leaving you.”

“And I’ve already sent Doriss and Luvok to lend assistance to the Remans,” Baird answered. “I also think it’s best to keep an eye on you for the time being.” Pausing he leaned down and covered his mouth with one hand. Whispering, he said, “Who knows what the Remans eat.”

“That’s a comforting thought,” Glover chuckled, paying for it immediately afterwards.
********************************************************************
Dark Realm

DON’T TOUCH HIM, the words exploded in Ivan’s head. He clutched his temples in agony, his broken nose forgotten. A long, spindly black arm flew past him, blocking the descending scythe inches from Cherenkov’s head. Heol’s body rushed to meet his arm seconds later and the obsidian alien stood in front of Genip. There was a liquid rushing sound behind him and Basso moved to intercept Heol. The three merged, forming a twisting, writhing black mass running from the floor to the ceiling.

With splinters of pain still in his head, Ivan sat with mouth agape for a few seconds. Before he remembered Aquiel, and then where the computer said she was located. He stood up slowly, backing away, his eyes locked on the fighting aliens.

After turning the corner of the corridor, Ivan broke into a full sprint. He pushed back the urge to run to Aquiel first, the soldier he had still was kept his path steady as he made his way to the armory. Now it was time to take his ship back, he thought.
********************************************************************

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

I've enjoyed catching up - it's made my day seem much better by comparison.

Seriously, some very, very bad stuff going down. Walker's career being the least of them. Astar is definitely walking around with a target on her back, courtesy of S31.

At least Cherenkov got a reprieve, temporary though it may be. But even if he makes it to the armory, will it be any help?

Glover is down but not out - yet. Hopefully his injuries won't hinder him too much - he's needed badly, especially with the destruction of Baltimore.

Just a typical DT day at the office.

 

[CeJay]

So, Baltimore goes bye-bye because of damage to her warp core .... right. I'm not sure I'm buying this. It's a tad convenient. It puts Glover into an interesting position however. He's not the kinda guy who's going to take the backseat and let somebody else drive.

 

[DarKush]

Glad you guys are still enjoying this.

********************************************************************
USS Monarch
Brig

“I’m not listening Leza,” Lt. Demetrius Nash covered his ears. He began whistling an off-key tune and even Astar had to smile.

“Demetrius you know I’m right,” she replied.

“Still not hearing you,” he said, removing his hands from his ears. He began tapping at his companel, but Astar knew the dark-hued human was just pretending to be busy.

“The safety of the ship is at stake,” she said simply, and his head shot up.

“How so?” He asked, now all business.

“Look Demetrius, I was there. Captain Walker was just as surprised as everyone when we released those quantum torpedoes. Someone else has remote control of our weapons systems. Who knows what else they have access to? I need you to try to find that out.”

“You sure that this isn’t just something you don’t need to know?” Nash asked. Leza held the man’s gaze. She shook her head slowly.

“This is not about me being pushy, there’s something seriously amiss here. From the abrupt change of orders, to the captain’s deepening secrecy about this mission, and now, destroying a Romulan warship, and throwing me in the brig for merely wanting to understand what was going on?” The head shaking became more pronounced. “Benjamin Walker doesn’t act this way.”

“Could he be a Changeling?” Nash asked, his eyes becoming steely orbs. He wasn’t joking, Leza sadly knew. A shape-shifter masquerading as a scientist had wreaked havoc at Nash’s last posting, at a top secret medical research facility. Monarch had been dispatched to secure the cold station, but when the ship arrived only Nash and a pile of ashes remained. The rest of the personnel had been murdered. He told her and Benjamin that the Founder had been seeking a cure for some type of morphogenic virus.

Astar had balked at Nash’s recollections of the shape-shifter’s charges. It had been inconceivable that Starfleet would ever authorize a genocidal weapon, had been her original thought. Though as the war had dragged on and the deaths had mounted, there was a shameful part of her that had begun to see the efficacy of such a plot. Unfortunately for her, being a Trill meant that her dark thoughts wouldn’t be hers alone. They would taint the future hosts of the Astar symbiont.

“You are serious about this?” Nash pressed. Still wreathed with regret over her thoughts of genocide, Leza could only nod. The security officer’s brows knit together and his jaw set with determine. “All right, I’ll look into it.”

This action would be another thing she would come to regret. She didn’t think that Walker had been replaced, but she knew she could play on Nash’s fears to get him to respond the way she desired. She made a silent promise to make it up to him at a later date. But right now she needed to do all she could to save the ship, even if it cost her friend’s trust.
*******************************************************************

IRW Blackwing
Stateroom

“When was the last time the Lupus checked in?” Colonel Viredis, Koval’s chief errand boy asked. Centurion Sergius shifted casually in the center seat, and tried not to snarl at the odious man. The Griffin-class ship had been supporting them from the rear, ensuring that the Alshain or any other hostiles didn’t surprise them while completing the assault on the Inci Shipyards.

Much of the Blackwing’s crew, including Commander Livana, was still celebrating the successful completion of the mission. Uncharacteristically the commander had retired to her quarters and a half-hour later Major Piso had found an excuse to exit the bridge as well. Sergius hadn’t been too concerned about the whereabouts of the Tal Shiar ship. He wasn’t going to weary himself with trying to keep a leash on them. “No, they missed the last scheduled check-in.”

“And this didn’t trouble you?” Viredis’s eyebrow arched; his expression contorted with disgust and suspicion.

“No,” Sergius replied coolly. “It did not. I assumed that the Lupus had been assigned to another mission, and I’ve learned not to pry into the affairs of the Tal Shiar.”

Colonel Viredis smirked, and he nodded knowingly. “Well said, Centurion.” His gaze turned frigid. “Where is Commander Livana? Or Major Piso?”

“In…disposed,” Sergius replied. Viredis nodded, rubbing his chin. Sergius could see the wheels spinning behind the other man’s black eyes. He was tabulating the new nugget of data that Sergius had given him, trying to find a way to use it against Piso, Livana, or both of them at some point.

“I understand,” Viredis said finally. “I don’t want to…ah, disturb them,” the smirk turned leering. “But you will alter your course to the Lupus’s last reported coordinates. The Chairman doesn’t want any loose strings. I can assume that you’re competent enough to input a course correction without…disturbing your commander.”

“Of course,” Sergius answered through gritted teeth.

“See to it,” Viredis ordered before disconnecting the line. The centurion leaned back in his seat and composed himself. To their credit, the crew waited for him to give the order instead of responding to the colonel’s command.

There might be some hope for the Imperial Navy yet, Sergius thought, before he barked, “You heard the man! Alter course.”
********************************************************************

Dark Realm

Ivan Cherenkov barely stopped to allow the sliding door to give him entrance into the armory. He continued moving as he slung a bandolier of concussion grenades across his shoulder and hastily put on a belt with phaser rifle cartridges and a holster. He shoved a hand-held phaser into holster while also grabbing a compression rifle. Still feeling totally unarmed, Cherenkov turned back toward the door. Ivan caught his breath as he girded himself for the coming battle.

He didn’t know if any of this would work on the aliens, but the Russian knew he was going to find out, and sooner rather than later.
*******************************************************************
Dark Realm

Let them in, Dr. Cole now urged, her presence soothing, but her thoughts terrifying. Let it wash over you, become one with it.

No, Aquiel balked. Never.

It’s the only way, Cole replied, I see that now.

They’ve gotten to you, Aquiel charged. They’ve converted you.

Once you are inside…you will understand.

I would rather die first.

Death has no meaning here. And I won’t allow it.

You can’t stop me! Aquiel wailed, even though sound had escaped her lips. If Rieta had been corrupted then she was all alone. It would be up to her to save everyone, to save Ivan.

Ivan, Cole’s voice slithered in her mind, and spidery fingers traced an icy trail up her spine and nested at the base of her neck. Aquiel gasped. You want to save him, the doctor observed, her voice clinical and detached. He is in great danger now. They have shown me. He is on a precipice. We can save him. You can save him. But you’ve got to trust me.

The engineer felt a tingling sting on her fingertips. Take my hand Aquiel. I can force you, but I will not.

No, Aquiel replied, her voice tinny even in her own mind.

Ivan, Cole said, and thoughts of the stern, icy flaxen-haired man flittered through Aquiel’s brain. He was so totally opposite her. She was passionate, she wore her feelings often on her sleeve, which had made her Fleet career often volatile. Over the years, and largely with Geordi’s help she had learned to rein in her emotions. With Ivan, she had sensed the opposite with him. He was just finding his emotions are a long time of suppressing them, and she could sense them surging beneath him every time they were together. She couldn’t allow anything to happen to Ivan.

Let me in, Cole said again, let me help.

I…I…no, Aquiel said, feeling her resolve weakening.

I’m sorry, but there is no time, Cole said. Forgive me. The tingling spread rapidly over her body, the stinging intensifying until it blocked everything out.

Make it stop, Aquiel cried out. Make it….

Then there was nothing.
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

Did Astar find a way out of her predicament or merely another victim for Section 31's nefarious dealings? And does Ivan have even the slightest chance stopping these aliens with conventional weaponry? Also is Aquiel doomed or is Cole a potential rescuer?

I'm looking forward to finding out the answers to these and many other questions.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Astar certainly got Nash's attention, but she may have unintentionally placed him in harm's way. There will likely be more unforeseen consequences before this story is over.

Cherenkov is showing his courage - I hope it's not for a futile cause.

It would seem that Cole has indeed been corrupted. It would seem doubtful that Aquiel can hold out much longer. Here's hoping that Ivan can yet intervene.

Really good stuff!

 

[DarKush]

CeJay and TLR,

Thanks for reading and commenting again. The following passage might answer some of your questions, but more likely just generate new ones. I hope you enjoy.

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

USS Monarch
Captain’s Ready Room

Captain Benjamin Walker placed the portrait of his family carefully back on his desk. He was treating the photograph more gently than he had his actual family. His actions had shattered his family as surely as his throwing the picture against a wall would smash the frame. And Benjamin knew he would have to come clean with it to Emmanuelle and that he would have to take whatever came his way because of it.

He had shredded his family’s trust, but there were at least threads of honor and loyalty to the Fleet, and the captain resolved to hold as tightly to them as possible. He had been such a fool to sign on to this, he had let his weaknesses get the better of him and now he had put his crew and maybe even the entire Federation in harm’s way. “That ends right now,” he grumbled. He stood up and tugged down hard on his black tunic.

Squaring his shoulders, he trudged out of his office and to the turbolift. Without acknowledging any of the curious glances from the bridge crew, Walker stepped into the lift. Once the doors had closed he said with resolve, “Detention Center.”

By the time he had reached the brig he was nearly stomping. Each fear, each worm of doubt trying to find purchase in his resolve, made him step harder, until each footfall echoed loudly down the hall. Random crew knew instinctively to get out of his way.

“Open,” he said to the shipboard computer once he had reached the brig’s entrance. The door swooshed open. Walker’s heart lunged into his throat. “My God, what did you do?”

Petrov stood up, the silvery glint of a phaser in one hand. Below her was the supine form of Lt. Nash, a scorched mark in the chest of his uniform. Walker glanced at the confinement cells. None of them were occupied. Astar was gone!

Before the engineer could reply, the captain rushed her. Grasping for her weapon hand, he cuffed her hard under the chin. The woman fell back, getting tangled up with Nash. Her phaser flew from her hand. While she was still struggling to get up, the captain grabbed the weapon. Walker stood over her, his fists clenching and unclenching. He wanted to her stand up, his eyes dared her to, he wanted her to try him. “What did you do? Where’s Leza?”

Propping herself up with one hand, Sofia used the other one to rub her jaw. “I didn’t know you liked it rough Benjamin.”

He made a move toward her and she held up a hand. “I was just joking. When did you lose your sense of humor?”

“Where.Is.Leza?” Though he roared inside, the words came out small and full of deadly intent. He was through being Section 31’s puppet.

“I could ask you the same question,” Petrov replied. She held out her hand for him to help her up. Walker refused. The operative shrugged and then pushed herself back to standing. Still rubbing her jaw, she said, “Astar was gone before I arrived. In fact, it was the activation of weapon’s fire that drew my attention. I beamed in. But it was too late.”

Walker glanced down. “What about Lt. Nash?”

“Oh, Demetrius,” Petrov followed his gaze. “Though his chest is going to be smarting awhile, which is probably the least he deserves.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Our Mr. Security Officer has been delving into the quantum torpedo ‘malfunctions’,” Petrov said.

“The malfunctions authorized by you,” Walker retorted. Petrov shrugged again.

“Tell me the truth Sofia, you were already planning to come here to deal with Demetrius but someone beat you to the punch?”

Petrov shrugged a third time. “Yeah, but they didn’t finish the job.” She flicked her wrist, producing a tiny microfilament blade.

“Touch him and I slag you right here,” Walker said, aiming the weapon at her.

Sofia smirked. “I like the new rougher you, but seriously, now is not the time for dirty talk. Mr. Nash has become a liability, and we have to take care of him, and then find Commander Astar.”

“To take care of her too? Like you did the Griffin?” Walker asked. “Like you’ll likely do to me once this mission is over and my usefulness is at an end.”

Petrov looked at him coldly. “If that is what I’m ordered to do, then yes. But since you’re a captain, I’ve got a feeling that Section 31 will have a good deal more use for you.” The frigid glare was warmed with a lustful glow. “If you just loosened up a bit, you might even come to enjoy some of the uses I might find for you….just like before.” She slinked toward him.

“It will never be like before,” Walker’s grip on the phaser’s trigger tightened. Petrov stopped, and her eyes became arctic again. Benjamin realized that she could turn off her feelings at will. Had it always been this way? He was starting to realize it was.

There was nothing she said he could trust. Maybe this whole Section 31 business was a hoax after all? It certainly didn’t seem in character for the Federation. Maybe she and that ‘Visala’ were both enemy agents?

“Sofia, I want you to drop the knife and step into one of the cells,” he ordered.

She looked incredulous, “I apologize,” she remarked, “I thought you didn’t have a sense of humor.” She didn’t flinch as the phaser beam sizzled past her ear.

“I’m not joking,” he warned.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Petrov said. “The more time we sit here arguing, the more time we’re allowing Astar and whoever is working with her to escape. Not to mention our primary mission.”

“I’m going to get to the bottom of everything,” Walker declared. “And with you safely behind bars that will make it much easier.”

“You think?” Petrov chuckled. “Seriously? Don’t be so daft man. You think you and this little tin can would be safe? I control this ship now. All of your lives are in my hands, and if you don’t do as I say this instant, those lives will be forfeit.”

Petrov winced slightly, and then looked down at the ragged hole in her chest. She glanced up and smiled, “Didn’t think you had it in you,” she muttered, a single bead of blood dropping from her lips before she fell to the floor.

Walker glanced down at the phaser in his hand. His finger trembled over the targeting button. The smell of ozone burned his nostrils. He didn’t recall firing the weapon. He hadn’t meant to do it, even though there was a part of him that did. “How…how?” He muttered.

“You didn’t,” the familiar voice startled him. He whipped around to find Dr. Zammit standing behind him, putting his phaser back into its holster. “Really Benjamin, you found that appealing?” He pointed at the lifeless Petrov and rolled his large, baleful yellow eyes. “Humans.”
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

Okay, nice curveball, didn't see that one coming.

There seems to be a shift in Walker's attitude towards what is happening to him and his ship but I wonder if it is too late to take charge. At least Petrov is out of the picture now. But her death certainly doesn't end S31 involvement.

And what's the deal with Zammit? Is he a counter agent? Pretty cold-blooded to kill Petrov even if she had it coming. And where is Astar?

You were right, this did create more question. It's all good though.

 

[DarKush]

********************************************************************
IRW Cuirass
Main Bridge

Captain Terrence Glover limped onto the bridge, resisting the urge to hold his aching ribs. The bone regenerator the Reman medic had been used on him had not been calibrated for humans and though the cracks in his ribs had been sealed enough, but there were still fine cracks running through them that ignited fire in his chest each time he took a step or breathed too deeply. He swallowed, his throat dry as he sought to compose himself.

“Captain Glover,” Chieftain Crixus swiveled around in his seat. Terrence wasn’t used to another occupying a command chair on any bridge he walked onto. “What is the status of ship’s engines?” Unwilling to sit in the medical bay, Terrence had hobbled about the Cuirass, checking on the condition of the Baltimore survivors in addition to the fevered efforts of both crews to restore power to Cuirass’s systems in the wake of Baltimore’s destruction.

Terrence was still wrapping his head around the idea of the ship’s demise, and the deaths of hundreds, all on his watch. It had only been a month ago that he had lost the Cuffe at the Battle of Cardassia Prime, but the casualties hadn’t been as great, though he had known each person who had given their lives to free the Alpha Quadrant.

He had been thrust into this mission, not of his own choosing, but he had felt the same desire to guide Baltimore safely back to port, and he had failed miserably. He didn’t have any idea how he was going to craft the notifications to the dead crewmen’s families. Terrence didn’t feel he even had the right. And what made it even worse was that he couldn’t stop thinking about how this lost would affect his career. Losing two ships in two months? Not even his father had enough chits to get him back aboard the Aegis. The pain from their lost, the agony of his failure, was greater than any caused by his cracked ribs. And his nearly overwhelming guilt made it even worse.

“Captain, are you still unwell?” Crixus asked. Glover shook his head, wishing he could shake free the new ghosts added to the legion that haunted him nightly.

“Repairs are almost complete,” he said quietly, lost in contemplation. “The polaric radiation is back at manageable levels, but the engineering team recommends leaving the device offline until we make it to Federation space.”

Crixus nodded, “Very well.” He said before another member of his crew got his attention. Glover propped himself against an aft wall and watched the Reman crew hunched over their dim consoles. The quiet was pregnant with the weight of their determination as they sought to bring the ship back to full power. He found himself impressed with their clarity of purpose. How the Romulans had managed to enslave these people he had no idea, but now that they had been given a taste of equality, a glimmer of freedom, Glover imagined there were a lot more Remans with Crixus’s fortitude, and he knew that the Star Empire was going to have to reckon with them fairly or pay a severe price in the years to come.

One Reman, a nimble female, must have sensed the distress on his face. She offered her seat but he waved her off. She regarded him with deep yellowed eyes for a second, a new respect dawning in them, before she returned to her duties. He wondered what type of propaganda the Rommies had been feeding these people? Did they think humans were weak and cowardly? An inferior species? The Remans would get an education from watching the Baltimore crew press forward even in the midst of tragedy and that gave him another reason to admire this crew.

He thought about making another round about the ship, to check on the continuing progress, but Terrence realized he didn’t want to pester either crew. They were competent and they didn’t need him. The idea of not being needed, of not being essential, made him feel hollow inside, gutted. He had never quite experienced that before, his ego had prevented it, but now here, on a ship not his own, surrounded by crewmen not his own, he felt lost, and useless.

“Captain Glover,” he heard a voice on the edge of his consciousness. “Captain Glover?”

“Yes,” he said, groggily, looking up. He hadn’t realized he had fallen so deeply in thought, in self-pity. It was the Reman female speaking. His vocal cords were initially resistant, but he finally croaked, “Yes?”

“Sir,” she pointed in the direction of the command chair. Crixus was standing in front of it, his arms folded across his broad chest. On the main viewer behind the Reman he saw a familiar sleek, silvered outline.

Impossible, he thought. “It can’t be.” It was the secondary hull of a Prometheus-class vessel. He shook his head, still in disbelief. The only Prometheus near this star system was the Aegis.

“It is a Starfleet vessel,” Crixus said, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in his voice, “And its crew wants us to surrender.”
********************************************************************

USS Monarch
Medical Bay

Once Zammit beamed back in, Astar let him have it. “I want answers now!” She demanded.

“There’s no time,” the Bzzit Khaht medic replied, his eyes sweeping over the terminal built into the office’s far wall. “There’s got to be a fail-safe hidden somewhere on his this ship, somewhere.”

“What happened? What did you do now? Is Demetrius okay?”

He glared at her, “If I don’t figure out what Sofia’s endgame was, you’ll have a lot more to lament than Mr. Nash!”

“Perhaps I could help you, if you told me what was going on? Why did you spring me from the brig? And why did you attack Lt. Nash?”

He ignored her, rushing to his console. He activated it. Barely glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I advise you to use the assistant medical officer’s terminal. Looking for any unusual energy patterns.”

“Why?” She crossed her arms. “I’m not moving until you tell me the truth.”

“Damn it Leza, it’s obvious I’m not a mere doctor,” his eyes flashed like suns. “And Sofia was no mere engineer. There’s a lot of things that have been occurring on the ship far above the heads of most of the crew until Captain Walker foolishly got entangled in them. I wasn’t sure about Petrov at first, actually I had thought you were the mole.”

“Mole?” Leza took a step back, aghast. “What are you talking about?”

“Believe me the less you know the better you will be able to sleep at night,” Zammit replied. “But I will tell you this, I just killed Petrov, and I think that was a very bad mistake.”
********************************************************************

 

[CeJay]

Generally I would say that Cuirass making contact with the Aegis is a good thing. However there might be a bit of a problem here with an entity hell-bent on total galactic domination. Let's see what Terrence has to say about that.

And Lezla is about to get a crash course about Section 31 it seems. I do not envy her.