ST: Independence - "Nadir"

[Dnoth]

Thanks for reading and commenting everyone.

As for the timely reprieve for the Banda...as Garak would say, "I believe in coincidences, but I don't trust coincidences."

CHAPTER 15

Supplemental
USS Kitzingen, Deck 3, Forward Section (The FalterturmLounge)
En Route to Arbazan System

The Kitzingen’s main lounge was distinctly divided into three sections: a living room-style lounge, a restaurant, and a bar. All along the large, forward-facing view ports, were a series of plush couches, chairs, and end tables. Behind them, were tables more suited for dining. Then, running the length of the aft bulkhead was the bar.

Seated around a dining table were Ensign Sabra Okoro, Tang, and Ashana Zwen. It was the first time the latter two had been in the lounge.

“The sign said ‘The Faltertrum Lounge’” observed the young trill female. “What’s that mean?”

The African woman rejoined in a heavy accent, “Rumor has it, once the captain was assigned this command, he visited the town in Germany that the ship was named after. He fell in love with it. Apparently, there is this crooked tower in the town. ‘Faltertrum’ is what the tower is called.”

Both Ashana and Zian laughed at the revelation.

“Well,” joshed the Asian, “At least it’s more inventive than ‘Three Forward’ or something like that.”

The three shared another chuckle.

“So,” began Sabra, “Have you met Evey, yet?”

“Evey?” repeated Zwen.

“The captain’s wife,” Tang informed her. He answered, “Yeah, I met her yesterday morning, at her Tai Chi class. She seems really nice.”

Okoro leaned in smiling, “Can you believe she’s a retired Starfleet captain?”

“Really?” responded Zwen.

Zian was even more floored, “She seems way too nice to be a captain.”

He got some odd looks from his crewmates.

“I mean,” he started as he attempted to recover, but he gave up, “You know what I mean.”

The ops officer, Okoro, wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook, “What, captain’s can’t be nice?”

He shrugged, “Of course, they can be nice, but…well, I’ve only served under two captains. The Galaxy’s captain was all business. And my last CO, well… she wasn’t exactly…approachable.”

“I liked my CO on the Crockett,” commented Zwen.

Bringing the topic back on track, Zian said, “I bet it’s kind of weird having two captains on the same ship.”

“Let alone being married to the other captain,” injected the Trill.

Sabra cocked her head in agreement, “Yeah, but it seems like they make it work pretty well.”

Tang ventured, “Does she throw her weight around much?”

Okoro dismissed him with a puff and a wave of a hand, “No.” Then, her tone changed as she thought about it, “Well, hardly ever.” She elaborated, “She serves as unofficial moral officer, event coordinator, counselor, and executive advisor.”

“Executive advisor?” playfully asked Zwen.

The dark-skinned woman went on, “Well, she’s kind of like a second first officer too. And if she asks you do something, I suggest you do it.”

The comment caused the other two to raise an eyebrow.

“Like say,” the ops officer continued, “she really doesn’t impose very often. Though, I’m sure she and the captain talk about command decisions together.”

Zian smiled and shook his head, “That sure would have its pros and cons.”

“How does Commander Ewm feel about that?” came from Ashana.

Sabra grinned and responded, light-heartedly, “I don’t think anybody on this ship knows exactly how she feels about anything.”

Another round of chuckles followed. Afterward, there was a lull in the talking.


The ops officer stood with a yawn, “Well, it’s late. I’m calling it a night.”

“Thanks for showing us around,” offered Zwen.

“Yes. Thank you, Sabra,” added Zian.

She nodded. “Have a good night, Lieutenants.”

She exited the lounge, leaving Ashana and Zian alone at the table. The lounge itself now seemed nearly empty. The conversation seemed to dry up as well.

Zwen did ask, “So, what’s your opinion of our new ship?”

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but Tang was more comfortable than he had been recently. He looked around the lounge with a grin. All he wanted to do when he joined Starfleet was to explore space. He never got the chance on the Galaxy, due to the war. The Independences never really offered much opportunity, either. But now, he was on a ship designed for scientific missions and they were heading out to the farthest reaches of the Federation. To top it off, his crewmates were more than he could’ve asked for. He swelled up with joy. “I love it. I couldn’t be happier.”

Tang’s bliss encouraged Ashana. She smiled playfully, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Mostly due to the liquid courage, he leaned in and said, “I promise not to step back again.”

The Trill gently caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “I sure hope not. I might take it as an insult this time.”

She got closer and their lips met.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Hm...it sounds like Zian might not want to come back from the Kitzingen. And especially if that "my last CO" comment got back to certain people...

 

[Gul Re'jal]

Shouldn't they rather drink synthohol?

 

[mirandafave]

As for the timely reprieve for the Banda...as Garak would say, "I believe in coincidences, but I don't trust coincidences."

Hmm... me thought so.

Again, a nice instalment building up the sense of the new berth and characters. I can imagine there might be crosses wires or purposes at times with a hubby and wife tag team going on. That could be complicated.

 

[Dnoth]

Again, thanks everybody!

Shouldn't they rather drink synthohol?

That's not how they roll on the Kitzingen.
CHAPTER 16

Stardate: 54300.8 (1 Sep 2377)
Runabout Banda
H’Kan System

After the incident with the Chaka, the doctors had a clear run all the way to the H’Kan System. Currently, they were in the system’s Kuiper belt. The runabout was holding position near a mountain-sized chunk of ice and rock.

Jane Wenera held a vile of clear liquid. She regarded it with pride. It was the result of all their efforts. It wasn’t a total cure, there was no way repair the damage to the organs and tissues. It would, however, stop the disease in its tracks and prevent it from spreading. It would also inoculate those not yet infected. She looked to her partner, “Do the Vuke have the resources to replicate the formula?”

The scaled Arkonian rejoined, somewhat hesitantly, “Well, they will need a detronal scanner.”

Jane amused herself for a moment as thoughts of the Prime Directive entered her mind. It was a bit late to be thinking about that. “Now, it’s just a matter of giving it to them with out getting killed.”

“There’s more than that,” Zo’Kama said as her eyes left a covered viewer, “I’ve been going over some of the genetic sequences of the virus.” She got off the stool next to the microscope, “Take a look at those ester bonds.”

The human woman took a seat and brought her face to the viewer. She examined it a moment, “The carboxylic acids are different.” She looked up with confusion, “Those acids are supposed to be uniform throughout a life form.”

Zo’Kama nodded in agreement. Her expression seemed distant.

Wenera understood her concern. “Genetic engineering?” she ventured.

“That’s the only explanation I can come up with.”

“Who would have an interest in killing off the Vuke?”

The reptilian plopped down on a section of the parameter couch that wasn’t covered in medical equipment. “Some of my former crew members talked about a secretive group in the Federation. They claim this group was responsible for the Founder virus as well, among other things.”

“Do you believe that?” the Latina asked with a bit of doubt in her voice.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But during the mission brief, Starfleet made it clear how much they feared the rapid development of the Vuke.”

Wenera grimaced, “I can understand that, considering how violent they can be.” She went on with a sigh, “But I find it hard to believe the Federation would stoop to such…abhorrent tactics.” She quickly supplemented, “Don’t get me wrong, the Federation isn’t perfect, but to do this…”

“I don’t want to believe it either, but this virus is not naturally occurring. That’s for sure.”

“But I don’t get it,” commented Jane, “You said your mission on the Independence was to help the Vuke find a cure – to foster good relations. Why would Starfleet send you there to help the Vuke if they were the ones that created the virus in the first place? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Zo’Kama had to concede the point, “You’re right, it doesn’t.”

The two sat in silent contemplation for a moment.

“Well, genetically engineered or not,” finally assessed Wenera, “we have a working vaccine. Now, we need to find a way to deliver it.”

The Arkonian thought for a moment on the task at hand. “Of course!” She got up and headed for the cockpit.

Wenera followed.

Littered on the deck were puzzle pieces. Zo’Kala and Coby were laying on the floor putting it together.

Zo’Kama, a veteran parent, stepped over them without comment and assumed the pilot’s chair.

Jane took up the adjacent station.

The Indy doctor began, “When we left – or rather, when the Independence was towed out of the system by the Bluefin – there was a Vuke carrier ship by itself. It was ordered to move away from their colonies because the ship had been overrun by the virus. There was a doctor on the ship I was working with.” She manipulated the sensor control panel, “If we can only find it again. It should still be alone.”

“That’d be perfect,” said the Human. She cocked her head in second thought, “Assuming they don’t fire on us.”

Supplemental
USS Kitzingen, Deck 5, Conference Hall
En Route to Arbazan System

The large reception room was usually reserved for diplomatic gatherings. It was a terrible waste of space – at least according to Evey Musgrave. When she came aboard over a year ago, she decided to celebrate a random crewmember’s culture each month. Last month, the ship honored Crewman Hiis by observing an age-old Tellarite tradition of insulting each other’s father until one participant couldn’t come up with a proper comeback. This month, Lieutenant Treum Ishok, the ship’s Coridan tactical officer, was singled out.

The room was lit only with an artificial fire in the center of the room. Various crewmembers sat around it. A woodwind-type instrument played gently in the background.

Most people were out of uniform. Evey sat snuggled in the captain’s embrace. Commander Ewm and the Bynar twins rarely attended these events. Ensign Sabra Okoro was in attendance. So was the Evora flight officer, Cadet Bolar. Ashana’s head rested lovingly on Zian’s shoulder. Their new relationship was obviously off to a good start. All eyes were on Lieutenant Ishok.

The Coridan’s intricately decorated chrome faceplate reflected the fire beautifully. He was dressed in little more than a loin cloth. He informed everyone before the ritual that his modesty was an ‘inauthentic’ part of the ceremony. His pebbly, tan-colored scales morphed into larger, darker ones on his torso.

Treum decided to share the Talum ritual with his crewmates. It paid homage to the time in Coridan history when stories were past down from generation to generation around a camp fire. History was an integral part of his culture. The act of relaying history orally was a sacred one among the Coridan.

Ishok incorporated a form of dance as he spoke. The music accompanied the storytelling.

His digitized voice added to the uniqueness of the event, “In the age before the Mavog, the Diung warred between tribes. They fought with primitive, but brutal weapons. We killed each other over wood, water, and metals.

Then, amidst our strife, the Mavog came from the sky. They wore masks to protect themselves from our air. They said their home had been devastated by war and we were their only hope for survival.

Soon, Diung tribes began to make alliances with the newcomers. With Mavog weapons, a new type of war was unleashed; a war that razed entire cities to the ground. The Mavog were careful not to interfere.

It is now understood, the Mavog gave all Diung tribes terrible weapons. It is now understood, the Mavog quietly watched as the Diung killed each other. It is now understood, the Mavog wanted us to kill each other.”

He paused for effect, “It is now understood, the Diung were at fault. We warred before the Mavog; we warred after the Mavog.”

The fire crackled as Treum rounded it dramatically. “Then,” he went on quieter, “We noticed the air beginning to change. It started slowly, then the pace quickened. All Diung began to grasp for air they could no longer breathe.

The Mavog no longer had to wear masks to walk among us. The space people, in false generosity, offered their favorite Diung masks so they could breathe on their own world again.”

He breathed deeply through is faceplate and continued in a melancholy tone, “It is now understood, the Mavog changed the air to suit them. It is now understood, the Mavog only offered the Diung masks to enslave them. It is now understood, that was their plan all along. It is now understood, the Diung were at fault.”

Ishok stood very still. He slowly placed his hands on his faceplate. With his thumbs, he began to pull it away from his chin. As the faceplate came off, there was an escape of gases. He pulled it away from his face purposely and turned to everyone while obviously attempting to hold his breath. His bare face was pale, due to being covered so often. The eyes were almost silver; the nose consisted of a single nostril, covered by a scaly flap; the mouth had reptilian lips. He said in his native tongue, “Ooh retapi changa ish Mavog – ooh retapi ishka ish Mavog”

The translation came through, almost instantly, “We warred before the Mavog; we warred after the Mavog.”

The Coridan Diung replaced his faceplate like it was a ball and chain. It sealed around his scales.

Everyone was taken aback to see this side of Ishok. Some suddenly became visibly uncomfortable. Zwen and a few others realized: that was whole the point.

Treum continued after the climax, “The Diung stopped their petty warring and united against the Mavog. It took nearly 100 years for the two species to live peacefully on Coridan. Today, we share the planet as equals. But what was done to the atmosphere could not be undone.

The masks now hide all Diungs’ shame. Shame that we did not put aside our differences long before the Mavog came. Shame that it took our near extinction and enslavement to realize we are one.”

The story was obviously over, but all that could be heard was the crackling of the faux fire. No one really knew how to react. Clapping? Probably not.

Finally, Issac spoke, “A well told story, Treum.”

He bowed slightly, “Thank you, sir.”

“Well,” offered Zwen, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “I guess that explains the faceplate.”

Ishok must have been smirking, “I knew you were just dying to ask about it.”

It worked. The crowd broke into laughter.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Now that was INTRIGUING, and indeed something I was dying to ask about.

Given what we know from TOS and ENT--the two different types of Coridan natives we saw--the Mavog aren't humans, are they? If I were a human living in the Federation and I found that out...I'd feel absolutely sick knowing my own people did that.

 

[BrotherBenny]

That was an interesting look at another culture, something you do all too well, Dnoth. I'm looking forward to seeing more of this crew.

 

[mirandafave]

Yes a nice look at the Coridans and looking at the the canon discrepancies. I also like how you are linking possible concerns and dangers from the previous story and the ongoing S31 mystery here with the doctors' tale. It is also interesting that here Wenera is again seeing a possibly uglier side to Starfleet again after her recent experiences. Otherwise, she would find it harder to believe what Zokama is saying.

 

[CeJay]

I really thought that that was a very clever way of providing us background on a mysterious character. What made it great was the uncertain reaction by the crew .. "Clapping? Probably not", and the use of very appropriate and timely humor at the end.

And I'm also still digging the doctors' quest. Almost being shot out of the stars by their own people, now the Vuke may finish the job.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Just getting caught up - terrific story-telling! (Yours and Lt. Ishok's ) Interesting insights into Coridan history and troubling discovery by Wenera and Zo'kama.

 

[Dnoth]

Nerys Ghemor, no the Mavog are not humans.

There is a lot of speculation about the Coridan and canon Trek has hinted at different things, but never came out and explained it. It was very fun for me to try to fill in the blanks. I'm glad it went over so well.

Thanks to everyone! Some of the mysteries of the Doctors' plot will be forthcoming soon.

CHAPTER 17

Stardate: 54304.5 (2 Sep 2377)
Runabout Banda
H’Kan System

“I’ve scanned the system,” reported the Arkonian. She looked to her colleague, “I’ve found the carrier, but there is another, smaller vessel much closer to us.”

Jane rested her arm on the seat back behind her, “Can you tell what type of ship it is?”

Commander Zo’Kama manipulated the console, “It’s defiantly Vuke. The database says it’s a science corvette.”

“Perfect!” exclaimed the Latina, “Scientists would be more apt to let us help them.”

“I hope you’re right,” said the reptilian. Her recent experience with the Vuke cautioned her optimism. The Vuke just barely tolerated the Independence’s presence and that was before the Indy’s apparent weapon’s malfunction.

It only took a few minutes to rendezvous with the science corvette. The ship was little more than a metallic box with thrusters and antennas protruding out in various places.

“Do the Vuke use sub-space radio?” asked Wenera.

“No. Commander Windslow had to rig the holodeck to patch into the Vuke’s communications system.”

Jane looked over, suddenly concerned, “We don’t have a holodeck.”

She said at length, “No, we don’t.”

“Can we send a laser signal or normal radio transmission?”

Without looking up, Zo’Kama admitted, “We could, but I have no idea what frequencies they use, or what code they utilize, or even if they can receive such transmissions.”

Jane blinked, “I foresee a problem, then.”

“I…I hadn’t actually thought about this part.” She gingerly looked over and shrugged helplessly.

Wenera chuckled humorously and leaned back in her chair.

There was dead silence in the cockpit; a rarity over the past two days. Coby was napping in one of the two small cabins onboard. Zo’Kala was studying Federation history on a padd at one of the aft stations.

Suddenly, the younger Arkonian piped up, “Why don’t you just beam one of them over?”

Both adults seemed embarrassed by the obviousness of the suggestion. They momentarily looked back at her.

“Good idea, Zo’Kala,” managed Jane.

“Yes. Yes, indeed,” added her Go’chama awkwardly. She re-focused on her panel. “Could you scan the ship for life signs, please,” evenly came from the tan-scaled Arkonian.

Without comment, Wenera swiveled her seat to face forward. After a moment, she relayed, “Seven life signs on board.” She glanced at the other doctor, “Is that right for that class of ship?”

The Indy doctor referenced a monitor, “No. That ship should have over 30 people onboard.” She speculated, “It could be due to the plague.”

“I don’t think so,” offered the Human, “All their life signs are strong. You’d think at least a few would be in a weakened state.”

“Zo’Kala,” said the elder Arkonian, “Go into the cabin with Coby and lock yourselves in.”

The adolescent seemed put out by the request momentarily. But she quickly relented and did as her female life-giver instructed.

“I’ve locked on to who I think is in charge over there.” She shrugged, “At least the person in the center of the bridge.”

“Good enough,” concurred Zo’Kama. “We should arm ourselves.”

Wenera nodded and retrieved two type-two phasers from a small armory mounted in the bulkhead. She set them both to stun and handed one to her comrade.

Zo’Kama moved to the transporter controls. She checked to make sure Jane was at the ready. “Energizing.”

Within seconds, a one and one-half meter tall figure materialized. Its legs were bent like a bird’s. Its four fingers were long and tipped with short, but dagger-like claws. The avian-reptile wore a garment made of thick leather. The head was one of a predator. The Vuke’s scales were tan, indicating a female. The plumage on her head was a rainbow of blues, purples, and yellows. The eyes with vertical pupils radiated rage and confusion. She began to lunge for Wenera.

“Stop,” said the Lieutenant Commander as she leveled the phaser at the Vuke. Her tone gave no indication that she had any qualms about pulling the trigger.

Somewhat surprisingly, the Velociraptor-like humanoid froze in her tracks.

Zo’Kama quickly jumped in, “We have a cure for your plague. We are from the United Federation of Planets.”

The Vuke bobbed her head. Her voice was raspy, “We know of your empire. I have heard of your battle with the Queen’s Forces.”

The Indy doctor still hadn’t heard the whole story as to why the Independence opened fire on the Vuke ships. She wasn’t on the bridge at the time and Command debriefed the command crew individually. She first heard about the incident when she was talking with a Vuke doctor, Kudal was her name. It was apparently true that the Independence fired first, but she found that hard to believe. Captain Aurelia had a reputation for being impulsive, but attacking a tactically inferior force without provocation was beyond her nature.

It surely wasn’t a coincidence that the Indy engaged a stealth vessel of Federation origin shortly afterwards. Amazingly, the admiral that debriefed her didn’t ask about that part of the incident. Interestingly, the preliminary findings didn’t fault Captain Aurelia. In fact, it only stated that the Vuke were an unpredictable species and conflict was likely. It made no mention of the stealth ship. Though, Zo’Kama knew it existed. She treated the wounded…and wrote the death certificates from the battle.

Clearly, there was more to that encounter than she knew. The entire mission had been deemed classified.

“That was…an unfortunate incident,” the Arkonian acknowledged.

“Then you’re not siding with us?” the Vuke asked.

The Starfleet officers shared a glance.

The Latina ventured, “Who’s ‘us?’”

She looked confused. “We know you’ve been observing us. Surely, you know about the resistance.”

“The resistance?” echoed Zo’Kama.

“Yes, we fight to bring an end to the rule of the Monarchy and free our people from her tyranny.”

Wenera looked to Zo’Kama, “This just got more complicated.”

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Well, now...that's VERY interesting indeed! Major Prime Directive implications here...though I think one way or another they HAVE to get the cure.

Or...uh-oh, another possibility came into my head, this one darker...

 

[BrotherBenny]

Well, now...that's VERY interesting indeed! Major Prime Directive implications here...though I think one way or another they HAVE to get the cure.

Or...uh-oh, another possibility came into my head, this one darker...

Cure everyone except the Monarchy? Yeah, I thought of that one too, but the docs will never agree to that...

Always another twist in the tale.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

That or wipe out the population and start over with a small group of hardcore types. It wouldn't be the doctors' ideas, but it could mean that the plague was engineered by the Vuke for internal political purposes--or in cooperation with the Vuke by elements of Section 31.

 

[CeJay]

A Vuke civil war? What an awesome dilemma for our duo of courageous healers. Looking forward to see how they're going to overcome this latest hurdle to their well intentioned aspirations.

 

[mirandafave]

Oh very interesting developments here among the Vuke that puts the doctors in a very compromising and deadly position.

 

[intrinsical]

That or wipe out the population and start over with a small group of hardcore types. It wouldn't be the doctors' ideas, but it could mean that the plague was engineered by the Vuke for internal political purposes--or in cooperation with the Vuke by elements of Section 31.

I have got to admit, I have no idea what Section 31 is up to in this instance.

 

[DarKush]

Finally catching up. Wow, this is some good stuff. I really liked what you did with the Coridan. I hope you do a Coridan based story, or continue focusing on Ishok in future stories.

The rest of the story is progressing as well, and this Vuke civil war is a very nice wrinkle.

 

[Gibraltar]

Curiouser and curiouser. Section 31’s involvement adds another layer of complexity and danger for our intrepid doctors. 31 isn’t the kind of people who take kindly to others messing about in their nefarious plots.

 

[Dnoth]

Thank you so much, again, for reading and commenting.

I'd like to apologize for not reading others' works more often. I know how important feedback is.

I will attempt to rectify that the best I can.

CHAPTER 18

Supplemental
Runabout Banda
H’Kan System

The two officers had lowered their guard slightly, but only slightly.

“We were never told the Vuke are in the middle of an uprising,” admitted Zo’Kama.

The bird-like humanoid went to step closer, but observed the phaser still aimed at her and reconsidered. “Our movement has been growing strength for years. It took a long time to gain…traction.” Her head bobbed as if to plead for them to lower their weapons. It didn’t work. She continued, “For almost our entire written history, the Johem Dynasty has controlled our society through manipulation and deceit. They withhold medical and genetic advances from the population. They put drugs in our manufactured food and water to keep us from thinking too much. Our society is set up into three levels: the royalty, which have turned themselves into near demigods; the military officers, which are given only the bare minimum; and everyone else, who are little more than cannon fodder and serfs.”

This assessment took both doctors off guard.

The Vuke female did not try to take advantage of their momentary lapse.

“I had no idea,” said the Independence doctor.

Jane was silent, but no less distressed by this new information.

The rainbow-plumed Vuke continued, “A group of us established a village on our outermost colony, Va’rak. We established our own society. One based on cooperation and mutual consent.” Her head drifted down, “Our concept was spreading all over the planet when the plague came. Luckily, a few of us were using this ship to transport banned materials to our colony.”

Suddenly, Zo’Kama had a look of terrible lucidity. “Va’rak, you said?”

“Yes.”

The Arkonian looked to her counterpart with concern, “Kudal, the lead healer I was working with said the plague first appeared on Va’rak.”

The implications slammed Wenera, “Oh god.”

The Vuke nodded and confirmed their suspensions, “The royalty feared attacking us outright. They thought it might expand the unrest.”

Jane picked it up, “So they engineered this virus to wipe the whole colony out. They could blame it as an act of nature.”

Finally, Zo’Kama found the nearest chair and plopped in it. “But the virus spread beyond the colony. They lost control of it.”

“You said you had a cure,” said the Vuke refugee, “Please, let me give it to my people.”

There was a cold silence as Zo’Kama and Jane attempted to gauge each other’s reactions.

“Will you distribute it to everyone? Not just to your…faction,” asked Wenera deliberately.

The Vuke’s persistent blinking gave away her intentions.

The forward windows lit up with a violent bright light - an explosion in space. All three attempted to observe without being momentarily blinded. Fairly quickly, the ignited gases dissipated. The Vuke science corvette had been reduced to drifting debris.

“What have you done!” shrieked the Vuke.

Wenera assumed the pilot’s seat and scrambled to determine what had happened. “We didn’t fire,” she reported.

“The Queen’s forces?” injected the refugee.

Zo’Kama wanted to assist her comrade, but was present-minded enough to keep her weapon trained on the Vuke. She might decide to blame the Starfleet officers at any moment.

“No,” reported the Terran doctor. “I’m not detecting any other vessels in the area.”

“Then who…” began Zo’Kama.

Her unfinished question was answered as a Federation transporter confinement beam appeared in the cockpit. An instant later, a humanoid figure dressed from head to toe in dull, black combat armor materialized. The person had some type of snubbed rifle at the ready.

Before anyone could say anything or react, the figure aimed at the Vuke and fired. The last refugee was immediately vaporized. There was no scream.

To her credit, Zo’Kama got a shot off. The beam even hit its mark, but obviously the armor was designed to absorb phaser energy.

Instead of firing at her, the figure closed the distance and wrenched the weapon from her scaled hand. Instantly, the black figure pulled her up between him and Commander Wenera.

She was still sitting, but had her phaser pointed at them.

A muffled, but clearly heard, “Stop,” came from the helmeted man.

Wenera hesitated.

Zo’Kama, now being used as a shield, had little ability to fight back, either.

A calmer, more rational, “Stop,” was repeated. Slowly, the man let go of her hostage and stepped back. Though, he still had his rifle leveled. With one hand, he removed his black helmet. He was human; a light-skinned man with light-brown hair and matching eyes. “I’m with the Federation. I’m no threat to you.”

Zo’Kama was the first to blast back, “You just killed a sentient being! I highly doubt you are no threat.”

“Who are you?” demanded Wenera, her phaser still on him.

“I’m here to help you fulfill you mission, Lieutenant Commander Wenera.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed you know who I am?”

He shrugged, “I really don’t care if you’re impressed or not.”

“You’re Section 31, aren’t you?” asked the Arkonian.

The man lowered his rifle, “I think who I am is beside the point. We’ve been monitoring your ‘mission’ since you left Starbase 17. We simply want to make sure you carry it out.”

Jane huffed, “So why did you just destroy that ship and kill that man?”

He was surprisingly casual and straightforward, “We couldn’t risk you giving the vaccine to the resistance. They might start curing people and become more popular. And, no doubt, they’d begin informing the populace the truth about the virus.”

“That’s it’s a weapon unleashed by their own government,” coldly said the Latina.

His reaction was indifferent.

“But you do want us to give the vaccine to the Queen’s forces, why?” asked Zo’Kama.

He smiled. “Normally, I wouldn’t bother explaining this, but I doubt you’ll continue on with out some explanation.” He sighed, “The Directorate projects the Vuke will achieve warp drive in about 10 years. Their weapons are already impressive, given their level of advancement. Even assuming no Federation help, it’s projected the Vuke will catch up to our level of technology in about 50 years. It’s been said before: the Vuke are as vicious as Klingons and as intelligent as Vulcans.” He began to pace as if he were lecturing in an academy classroom, “Having said that, wouldn’t you rather they be on our side?”

The response was quick from Wenera, “You haven’t answered her question, why the Queen’s forces?”

“The monarchy is more stable. If the resistance prompts a civil war, it’s hard to tell what government, what type of society, the Vuke will become.” He added as if it made a difference, “And besides, projections indicate the resistance movement won’t be able to stand up to the entrenched dynasty.”

“Oh my god,” said Wenera at length. “You explain it so…casually. Even though, the resistance is fighting for self-determination, for basic sentient rights…you don’t care, do you? That’s not part of the equation for you, is it?”

The Section 31 agent stood taller, “The security of the Federation is paramount, Commander.”

Zo’Kama took up the torch, “And all the things we grew up hearing about what the Federation stood for: democracy, freedom, the rights of the people…it’s all lip service.”

“Don’t judge me,” began the man, “You have no idea what Section 31 has done, even before the Federation.” He said with resolve, “If it wasn’t for the Directorate, Earth and most other Federation worlds, would have been conquered several times over by now. You are able to have your idealism thanks to the blood spilled by people who history will never know. We die so you can take your moral high ground, doctors.”

Stillness persisted for several moments.

The copper-skinned woman looked at the deck, “I think I’m going to be sick.” She looked to the agent, “It’s still all a charade, a theater, for our benefit.”

The man seemed to truly understand her concern for a moment, “Trust me, ignorance really is bliss. Those values still exist, doctor, but they need to be tempered with reality.”

“Is that what you tell yourself each night?” came from Zo’Kama.

He stiffened up again, “We’re obviously not going to convince each other, so I suggest we get to the matter at hand. All I’m asking you to do is go to that carrier ship and give them the vaccine.”

“Wait,” said the Arkonian. “This still doesn’t make sense. Our original mission on the Independence was to work with those same Vuke to create a cure. Why did Section 31 sabotage that mission?”

He cocked his head, “A relevant question. The short answer is ‘priorities.’ You remember your “passenger?”

“Clayton Easton. Yes, he said you were after him. He said he had worked for you, and he had taken refuge aboard our ship.”

He nodded, “He was a priority target. That and the fact your Commander Windslow was dangerously close to penetrating our phasing cloak.”

“Priority target,” Jane repeated. Her eyes were empty.

“You killed many of my crewmates,” said the Arkonian with quiet rage.

The man returned to a professional tone. It was obvious he had no intention of entertaining any more questions. “I’m not about to justify to you the actions of the Directorate. You will continue on for that Vuke carrier and instruct them on how to replicate the vaccine.”

Slowly, Wenera’s eyes found his, “What makes you think we’ll be your puppets?”

“Because, despite everything I’ve said, despite everything you now know; you are both still doctors, and I doubt you’ll allow millions of people to die just to spite me.”

“Why don’t you just do it?” asked Zo’Kama.

Wenera fielded the question, “People like him never do things for themselves. They just set things in motion from the shadows. People like him never come out into the light.”

He smirked, “Not if we can help it.” He stepped back and prepared to transport back to whatever hidden ship he came from. Right before he disappeared, he added in an insincere tone, “Oh, and due to the potential danger of what you’re about to do, I’ve taken the liberty of transporting your children to my ship until your mission is complete. I wouldn’t want them to be injured.”

Both stood in a fury, but it was too late. He had beamed away.