Star Trek: Atlas - The Conference

[Bry_Sinclair]

Captain’s log, stardate: 38425.8.

I’ve just received a very interesting communiqué from First Minister Tem-Khon. He’s invited us to attend a conference being held between Ohmaron and two of their closest trading partners, the Gehnite and the Sokaaran, as a thank you for the assistance we provided. As an opportunity to have formal introductions with two other native species, and potentially look into laying down the groundwork of future trade opportunities inside the Theta Maelstrom I’d be mad not to take it.

The gathering is taking place on a commerce station in open space, which apparently has quite the reputation for being a very lively place. Given we’ve been working for two months solid, I’ve decided to offer the crew some shore leave once we reach the station. Commander Celan has offered to oversee the lottery for who will get to enjoy some liberty, though like myself and Counsellor Htennak she’ll be involved in the various meetings that have been arranged.

* * * * *

Captain’s Ready Room, U.S.S. Atlas

“I’m still not sure I feel comfortable having two-thirds of the crew on leave whilst we attend this conference,” Celan stated from the opposite side of Bruce Keller’s desk. “What if there’s an emergency?”

“Then all those who can make it back to the ship do so and they launch with whoever is aboard.”

“Even if we’re attacked by the likes of the Xul?”

Keller nodded. He’d had all the exact same thoughts himself, but after reviewing all they’d done in the last two months he could see just how hard the crew were pushing themselves, so he had to give as many as possible the chance to take a break. After receiving further information on the trading station his mind had also be put at ease.

“Well, that’s the good thing about this outpost, they maintain their neutrality with an impressive array of weapons—anyone that takes any sort of hostile action against the station of the ships docked are fired upon, regardless of who they are.”

Her eyes went wide for a moment. “That is some aggressive neutrality.”

“It appears to work, seemingly they’ve not needed to use it thirty years—so it sounds like everyone got the message loud and clear.”

“Well, in that case,” she said handing over her PADD, “here are the lottery results.”

He took the tablet and quickly began looking over the two lists of names, those who would be on duty and those on leave. “So, Na-Gharii and Siraak are both on the liberty list, which would make Maq’on the ranking officer left on the ship,” he peered over the top of the device. “What are your thoughts on that?”

“It’s not like she’s not held watch on the bridge before, and after how she handled the mission on the Mejarian colony ship I’d say she’s more than up for the challenge.”

Keller smiled, agreeing with her sentiment wholeheartedly. He’d been thoroughly impressed with his young chief of security; she definitely had the right stuff to go far in the fleet. The only other member of the senior staff who’d be onboard would be Chief Tyne which only reassured him more, the senior non-com had decades of experience under her belt and would be more than ready and willing to support the junior lieutenant.

He handed the PADD back to his XO. “Approved, Commander. Notify the crew and remind them that leave means they are to leave the ship, not catch up on paperwork or experiment.”

“I will, don’t you worry.”

“Also,” he paused, not quite sure how to phrase what had just come to him.

“That they may be on leave, but we are guests on an alien facility where they’re likely to make personal first contact with other species we’ve not encountered yet, so to make sure and give a good first impression?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Something like that.”

“I was already planning on doing that.”

“What would I do without you, Celan?”

“Let’s hope you never have to find out.”

* * * * *

Ship’s Lounge, U.S.S. Atlas

For such a small ship, Lieutenant (j.g.) Helena Yuen was always surprised at just how spacious the Atlas felt. There were plenty of community spaces the crew could use to wind down in their off hours, so they were never all cramped together—though she did wonder if they were near their full occupancy of eighty if it would feel quite so comfortable. The lounge faced aft, with the view out the windows including the warp nacelles that propelled the ship forward and caused what few starts there were to streak past. That was something that had immediately felt strange about the pocket of normal space they’d discovered inside the Theta Maelstrom, the lack of stars or seeing anything beyond the thick bank of thermobaric clouds and radioactive dust that surrounded them on all sides. She’d even had a couple of crewmembers seeking something for anxiety caused by nihiliphobia, the fear of nothingness, for which she referred them to Counsellor Htennak for therapy instead of medication to begin with.

“Do you think they’re ever going to make it official?” Xan Na-Gharii mused as he sipped on a frosted mug of synthale, which he used to subtly point to a table on the other side of the lounge.

Yuen, her back to the viewports, glanced in the direction to see Ensigns Tathar, Ruben de Boer, and Moll Idahn huddled together at a table, leaning in closely and talking in hushed tones. She smiled at the trio as she turned back to her own, where Ydaris Maq’on was being anything but subtle as she studied the rookie officers.

“What makes you so sure they’re an item? They were all at the Academy together,” the Bolian pointed out.

“So were Axlan, Uldai, and Willis, but they’re never part of their little groups,” the chief science officer countered. “I’d have thought you’d be all for it, Ydaris, aren’t throuples a common occurrence on Bolarus?”

“They are, my parents are very happy together and my sister is due to marry her partners soon as well.”

“Maybe you’ll have another three-way wedding invite soon as well.”

Yuen sipped her cosmopolitan. “If they are together then they’ll announce it when they’re good and ready, don’t go interfering.”

“Would I do that?” he retorted with mock indignation.

The three of them laughed. Like the ensigns that was the focus of their discussion, the Atlas was her first assignment as well though far from the first ship she’d lived and served aboard—being what was once termed a ‘boomer’, she was raised in space just like her own parents and grandparents, it was a part of who she was. Though the Atlas was nothing like the S.S. New Dawn in aesthetics or function, the sense of belonging was most definitely the same, she felt at home with those onboard, despite only having known them for a little over two months. She was very fortunate to have landed the position.

“It’s a shame you won’t be joining us, Ydaris,” she said.

“There will be other shore leave, I’ll survive.”

“Besides, this will give you some more time in that big chair—you definitely seem to enjoy it up there.”

“Who hasn’t looked at that seat and coveted it?”

“You can keep it,” Na-Gharii stated plainly. “I’m more than happy in blue, thank you very much.”

Yuen looked at him, a little surprised by his response. “You’ve never had ambitions to command you own ship someday?”

“I trained to be a scientist, why would I want to through that away for all the headaches, stress, and bureaucracy of command? Why, have you thought about it, Doc?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Even though I was specialising as a medic on my parents’ freighter, they still wanted me to take command one day, and whilst I might not be a cargo hauler anymore I can’t rule out there might come a time I want to stretch myself and do more.”

“Won’t your folks be upset that you won’t take over from them someday?” asked Maq’on.

A sad smile tugged at her lips. “They’re not in space anymore, they’ve settled down on Starbase Earhart to run their business from there instead. After we lost the New Dawn they couldn’t really face making another ship their home, it had been their wedding present after all.”

“You lost your home? That’s awful,” Na-Gharii said, reaching over and resting a hand on her forearm.

She nodded, forcing the trauma of that memory to stay locked up. It had been the single worst event of her life and she didn’t want to revisit it anytime soon.

Her friends quickly rallied round and tried to distract her. “I saw in the comm package the Captain shared about the station, that there’s five decks of entertainments. You’re not going to have enough time to see a fraction of that in the two days we’re on the station,” Maq’on stated.

“I enjoy a challenge!”

“So, is that why you never seem to leave Siraak alone?”

Yuen found herself smiling slightly, looking from Maq’on to Na-Gharii, whose naturally tanned cheeks flushed almost imperceptible. The Efrosian folded his arms, his posture immediately more defensive.

“I’ve known her for years.”

The two women looked at one another again. “Well, they do say a strong friendship is the best basis for a successful romantic relationship,” observed Maq’on.

“That is quite true. It might to different for Vulcans, given their tradition of having arranged weddings with the couple barely seeing one another before the ceremony.”

“Do you think Siraak is betrothed?”

“She could well be.”

“Knock it off you two.”

Maq’on placed her hand to her chest and feigned appearing upset. “A tale of unrequited love then? Oh, those are always so tragic.”

“Makes for intense melodrama, not to mention shipboard gossip.”

“Do I have to order you pair of junior lieutenants to shut up?”

“Ah!” snapped the security chief. “Xan, you know the rules of the lounge. Check your rank at the door.”

“Well, if you two wouldn’t stop going on about something that’s none of your business—”

“Just imagine how those poor ensigns feel then,” Yuen interrupted with a smug smirk.

He opened his mouth but closed it again. “Point taken.” He looked between the pair of them. “I’m glad you’re stuck on the ship, and I’m starting to have misgivings about inviting you to join us tomorrow.”

She held up her hands. “I’ll play nice, Doctor’s honour.”

As the three of them laughed again she’d almost supressed the memory of the week of hell. Almost.

* * * * *

Bridge, U.S.S. Atlas
Stardate: 38428.7

With the reputation that the Ohmaron reports had given about the trading station, Celan had expected something grander—though the only thing that really ticked that bill was the size of the place. Over 3.5 kilometres in diameter, it was only slightly smaller than the wide mushroom-like dome of the spacedocks orbiting Earth but the two structures couldn’t be more different. The commercial outpost had a central spire, around which countless modules, cargo bays, hangars, docking ports, bridges, and tunnels expanded out on the X-axis, appearing like a brightly lit web in space.

“That is some…interesting…architecture,” Htennak commented for the other side of the captain’s chair.

“You read my mind, Counsellor.”

“Sir, we’ve just received docking instructions as well as your delegates package and notification of rules and regulations onboard the station,” announced Tathar.

“Thank them, Ensign, then download the package and transfer to my PADD, and do the same with the local protocols for all those going aboard the station. Mr de Boer, make sure you follow their instructions to the letter.”

“Yes sir,” the two young men replied.

Celan made one of her random station inspections as the Atlas headed for its assigned docking port. She glanced over each of the bridge crews shoulders, checking on the ships status, ensuring everything was as it should be. Every once in a while she would look at the viewscreen as the alien station loomed larger and larger, giving the impression they were being drawn in closer to be devoured by a hungry spider—though one that liked to dazzle its prey with marketing, as a number of holographic projectors and enormous monitors were advertising various goods and services available.

Her checks brought her to the conn last, where she could see their progress and noted that they were precisely following the course given to them, not even a fraction of a degree out. They would be docking in less than five minutes, after which the fun would really start.

She returned to the captain’s side, where he was reading their itinerary for the next two days, Htennak standing a little closer than most would be comfortable with as he skimmed over the information. It had been a while since she’d seen Bruce be so relaxed and comfortable with someone, it was lovely to see as he was genuinely happy. She knew him well enough to know that after he was promoted he’d resigned himself to being single, after all across the fleet there weren’t that many captains who were married, with even fewer of those to fellow officers. He’d admitted that he didn’t know exactly how far things with Htennak might go, but he was just enjoying the high of a new relationship. If someone with his disastrous dating life could meet someone special there was hope for anyone.

“So, what’s on the agenda?” she asked.

“There’s an informal reception this afternoon, a chance to get to know the different delegations, with the first official appointment starting tomorrow morning and after that it’s nothing but meetings on everything from customs agreements, import tariffs and, interestingly, a topic simply called ‘The Xul’.”

“I guess we’re not the only ones having issues with them then.”

Htennak looked up from his skimming. “I’m reminded of the human saying, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’.”

“Unless of course our actions have made the situation in the Maelstrom more difficult for these, and other, resident species and the Xul are only going to get worse in the time they have left before their fuel supply runs out.”

Keller looked up at her from his PADD. “That’s bleak, even for you, Celan.”

“I’m your XO, I have to temper your captainly optimism. It’s in the job description.”

He chuckled and shook his head then returned to the page he was reading. He’s just finished when de Boer glanced back at the three of them.

“Sir, their docking system is requesting a link up to our computer.”

Handing his tablet to the Ktarian by his side, Keller focused on their immediate task. “Confirm their request and give them access to the docking controls.”

“Aye Captain.”

Though she had been dubious about having two rookies fresh from the Academy at two of the senior bridge stations, she was please that both de Boer and Tathar had performed above and beyond her expectations. They’d made a great start to both their careers; she wouldn’t be surprised if they both had four pips on their collars before they were forty.

The Atlas glided into her docking bay, with only the gentlest of rocks as the umbilical connected with the hull.

“We’re docked, sir. Connectors secured.”

“Nicely done, Ensign,” replied Keller, the smile clear in his voice. “Power down our engines.” He stood up to address the entire bridge. “Shore leave will commence at eighteen hundred, before then I’d like all systems secured and status reports logged.”

* * * * *

 

[Bry_Sinclair]

Conference Room 10, Tathini Trading Station
Stardate: 38431.1

The reception the day before had given Keller, Celan and Htennak an opportunity to meet with the other delegates, which had proved very useful as there had been a surprise or two he hadn’t expected—primarily being in the form of their hosts, the Tathini, who owned and operated the station and would be included in the talks as a neutral mediator if required. Keller had encountered some strange species in his time, but he hadn’t been prepared for a three-metre-long centipede-like being, with a dark blue, segmented exoskeleton, fifteen pairs of limbs, and six eyes above their powerful mandibles. None of the native species seemed all that put out by them, so it was quite clear they were a common enough sight in the region to be considered quite normal, luckily though he managed to mask his initial reaction upon meeting Administrator Trejan.

The diminutive Ohmaron, with their long trunks, were a welcome sight, with Trade Minister Jal-Phes proclaiming her peoples’ gratitude once more at helping them. She then made introductions to her counterparts. Gehnite Ambassador Haphura Monog was likewise shorter than himself, only reaching his chest, but that was where the similarities ended as she was covered in blue and grey fur and sported two sets of arms, with a face that reminded him of a lemur. Monog had clearly heard all about the Atlas and her crew and was very receptive to their inclusion, quickly extending her governments invitation to visit Gehnald for a proper greeting. The Sokaaran delegate, Speaker Gwgan, was more standoffish, though polite, he didn’t share his compatriots exuberance at their first meeting—though the green skinned alien, whose face was dominated by a curved beak with eyes on stalks on either side, was a tough one to get a read on. Keller could only hope that like the Vulcans they tempered their emotions, and that he hadn’t upset him in some way.

Getting their initial meeting done and out the way allowed him to go into the meeting with a better idea of just what he was getting himself into, and what to expect. One thing that had deep fascinated all of the Maelstrom natives was the fact that the Starfleet representatives were from three different worlds, with a further sixteen on the Atlas alone, then to hear of the one hundred and fifty species that made up the Federation seemed more than they could really comprehend. He’d had to point out that their beginnings were similar to the conference, with different species coming together for certain purposes, from which the UFP had come into existence.

He wasn’t exactly sure just what they could get out of this conference, he couldn’t exactly speak for the elected officials back on Earth, but whilst they were in this unique region they might end up needing repairs or supplies, not to mention the benefits of sharing knowledge, so having a few allies would be a boon. They’d already bought themselves a good reputation with the Ohmaron, which had already gotten them to the table, he just needed to build on that and offer their help however he could.

Administrator Trejan clicked his protruding jaws, quieting the chatter between the delegates so as to bring the first meeting to order. Htennak leaned in close on his left side and whispered softly.

“You’ve got this, Bruce.”

He looked at the mission specialist and gave him an appreciative smirk.

The arthropod’s top half stood up straight, as the rest was coiled beneath him. “Thank you all for attending and of course for selecting my station as the site for this conference, as most of you will be aware, we pride ourselves on offering a site of neutrality for commerce to flourish.

“You will have all seen we have a very full agenda over the next two days, so I suggest we get down to business,” Trejan continued. He turned to Jal-Phes. “As the sitting chair of this trading partnership, I will hand over to yourself, Minister.”

The Ohmaron wiggled her trunk. “Thank you, Administrator. It is good to see both of you again,” she began looking at the lead Gehnite and Sokaaran members, “these appraisals of our partnership are always very productive and beneficial for all three of our worlds.

“I would also like to extend a warm welcome to our welcome observers,” she said with a genuine hint of delight to her voice. “I have taken every opportunity possible to mention what you and your crew have done for my people, Captain Keller, we will forever be in your debt.”

“One of the tenets of the Federation is to provide humanitarian aid wherever possible, Minister.”

“But still, you helped us when you had nothing to gain and now my people need never fear the Curse.”

“I’ll be sure to pass your thanks along to my chief medical officer, she was the one who deserves the credit.”

Jal-Phes wiggled her trunk again. “Several of the babies born these last few weeks have been named ‘Yuen’ in her honour.”

Keller smiled. “I’m sure she’ll be very touched to hear that.”

Gwgan cleared his throat, his eye-stalks pulled in closer to his cranium. Jal-Phes seemed to understand the expression and quickly moved on, starting to quickly lay out just what the day would look like before getting to the first topic.

* * * * *

Entertainment Module 081, Tathini Trading Station

The station was unlike anywhere else Ruben de Boer had been, granted he hadn’t exactly been to that many places, but the feel of the place was just so other. Tathar’s nose didn’t stopped twitching as they passed vendors with strange meats sizzling on open flames, merchants peddling spices, kiosks stacked with an assortment of sweets, stalls bursting at the seams with brightly coloured fruits, and so many bars and cafes he’d lost count. Idahn was fascinated by all the different aliens they passed by, a well as the archaic architecture of the place, trying to work out some sort of order to it all.

As for him, he was just enjoying them enjoying themselves. He couldn’t have wiped the goofy grin from his face had even the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief ordered him too. Never in his wildest dreams whilst they were all at the Academy would he have thought anything like this could let alone would ever happen, so he was going to enjoy it for as long as they had this time together—who knew what might happen once they got back to the wider galaxy, they might all decide to accept new assignments.

“Watch yourself,” Tathar stated as he grabbed de Boer’s arm and stopped him dead in his tracks.

Beneath where he was about to place his foot, a dozen pairs of legs scuttled across the metal deck. He felt his cheeks flush and looked up at the furry Rigellian. “Thanks. Wouldn’t want to cause a diplomatic incident on our second day in port.”

“Best not if it can be avoided.” The pair of them watched the centipede scurry away and de Boer felt a shudder run down his spine, he’d never liked insects.

Idahn came up on Tathar’s other side and slipped her arm through his. “So, what do you guys fancy doing next?”

“Lunch?”

He gave Tathar a friendly punch in the arm. “We just had brunch.”

“Elevenses then. It all smells amazing!”

“How about we go and do an activity for a couple of hours, then go get something else to eat?”

The ops officer huffed. “Fine then.” He looked at the Trill and in a stage whisper said, “He thinks just because he and the Captain wear the same colour uniform he’s some sort of big shot negotiator.”

Idahn giggled. “Well of course. I’m the brains, you’re the muscle, and he’s the diplomat.”

“So, I’m just a piece of meat to you then am I?”

“Yup.”

“Grade A Rigellian-Dervan at its finest,” de Boer quipped, taking the bigger mans arm. “Now come on, let’s get going.”

Together, he and Idahn managed to get him moving again. They made their way through the streets, window shopping as they looked for something that took their fancy. In one of the many plazas they’d visited, he spotted something off to the side that caught his eye. A Tathini stood beside the entrance to a ship, its segmented body undulating slowly from side to side, its eyes not really focusing on anything until he started staring then they homed in on him. Without even realising it, de Boer found himself standing before the business owner, as his companions consulted an information board to see what attractions there were close at hand.

“Ah, welcome young visitor,” the Tathini began, its slow wriggle never stopping. “What can I offer you today?”

“What sort of business do you have?”

The alien clicked. “I can show you whatever you’d like, experience your desires and dreams, enjoy exhilarating adventures and see wonders you’ve never even dreamt of.”

“You run holodecks?”

“These are no mere holograms, young visitor, you will never know where reality ends and the experience begins.”

“Ruben?” Tathar bellowed from behind.

He looked over his shoulder to see them both searching the crowd for him. He waved them over, then turned back to the owner. “How much is it?”

“As this is your first time here, you can go for free.”

“Free?”

The giant centipede wiggled enthusiastically. “Oh yes, once you’ve been through it, you will never forget it—so I know you will return for more.”

Tathar and Idahn joined him, both looking a little more relieved. She took his hand as he felt a strong padded hand grip his shoulder. He looked between the two of them. “He says he’s offering an experience so much better than a holodeck we’ll never be able to tell the difference.”

Idahn frowned. “What sort of experience?”

“Whatever each of you seek. The experience is as individual as the person.”

“I’m game, it’s either this or a museum.”

“Hey!” snapped the ship’s A & A officer.

“Good. Good. Right this way, please. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves.”

With a shrug, de Boer led them inside, still holding Idahn’s hand, with Tathar following close behind. Entering the store, they found a barren room, lit only by the open door. Before they could even turn around it snapped shut, locking them inside the pitch black.

* * * * *

Bridge, U.S.S. Atlas

With the captain, first officer, and counsellor attending the conference, that just left nineteen officers and crew on the Atlas. Maq’on had mixed feelings about their time on the station. She didn’t like the crew being so scattered across the huge structure, especially unarmed (as per the laws of the Tathini), in particular she was unsettled by the captain turning down a security escort, with them still being so new to the region there were a lot of unknowns they could possibly face—as well as a few knowns, such as the Xul freighter that had arrived a few hours after they had, luckily they were over two kilometres away but she still didn’t like it.

Even dwelling on all that on an almost constant loop, she was also a little jealous at the opportunity to explore somewhere new and enjoy some time off to relax and unwind—even just for a few days. The flip side of that was that she had been left in command of the Atlas, even though she was in dock and only had less than a third of her crew aboard, it was still time spent as officer of the watch which would help when it came to promotion time.

A duty roster had been worked out to spread out what crew were left across the three shifts, to monitor ship functions or catch up on any administrative work that had lapsed in the last two months of near non-stop work, as such it was just Chief Tyne and Crewman R’Murr, at ops and science respectively, on the bridge with her. The chief was keeping an ever-watchful eye on what was happening throughout the ship, whilst the computer science specialist was helping to reorganise the telemetry files that they’d amassed already.

For her part, she was catching up on something she’d been meaning to do for weeks, reviewing the crews training files. As the security chief, it was her responsibility to ensure that every serving member of the ships company was certified and met at least the minimal requirements of accuracy with phasers and hand-to-hand combat. She’d already noted down a few would need to put in several hours on the phaser range within the next month to still be cleared for away team selection, whilst a couple had only barely scraped through their self-defence training. As soon as the all the crew were back aboard she was going to need to crack the metaphorical whip.

“Huh.”

The simple noise from operations immediately drew her attention as there wasn’t much that stumped the senior non-com. “What’s wrong, Chief?”

“For a second there I lost the signal from Ensigns Tathar, de Boer, and Idahn, but they’re back now.”

Maq’on stepped down and looked at the older woman’s readings. “Some sort of interference?”

“Unknown.”

“Atlas to Tathar.”

For a moment the channel was worryingly quiet. “Tathar here, go ahead.”

“Everything alright there, Ensign?”

“All good here, Lieutenant. We’ve found an arcade with an interesting selection of games.”

Her brow furrowed. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Having a blast, sir.”

“Understood. Look after yourselves. Atlas out.” She glanced at Tyne. “Keep a close eye on them, Chief. Let me know if anything strange happens again.”

“You’ll know as soon as I do, Lieutenant.”

* * * * *

Entertainment Module 081, Tathini Trading Station

Even though weapons were forbidden on the station and their safety had been assured, it had been stressed to all those on leave not to go alone and buddy up with at least one other person. Xan Na-Gharii had graciously offered to escort Siraak and Yuen after he’d heard of their plans to pair up, seeing as how he was being ordered off the ship for a break he couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than with two beautiful women—though admittedly in his head there were far fewer clothes involved.

Even though the entertainment module was enormous (he wouldn’t be surprised if an Ambassador-Class ship could fit in with room to spare), they kept meeting other members of the crew, a few of whom were definitely enjoying the local libations—he had to wonder how many the following day would regret their choices. A few others were quick to point out attractions and sites to visit, before hurrying on to the next activity.

True to form, Siraak had a PADD with her that contained the station guide they’d received. He suspected that she had planned out their full itinerary for their two days of leave, just as she had when they were at the Academy. There was a place and time that it was useful, but they were on an alien station, surrounded by species none of them had seen before which made him just want to wing it.

Yuen didn’t look all that bothered, she was happy to go along for the ride, taking time to study each of the new aliens they passed—he’d counted at least eight species they’d yet to make official first contact with, that raised the question of just how many races inhabited the strange little pocket of space? By the time the Atlas’ mission was completed they could easily have set a new record for the number of new aliens contacted, which was definitely something that would increase the ships profile considerably.

“The attractions in this section of the module include a museum, zoo, and a track for something called swoop-pod racing, in addition to the bars, restaurants and shops.”

“This place really does have everything, doesn’t it,” Yuen stated.

“It would seem so.”

“What if we go off guide?” he proposed. “Find something the official brochure might’ve overlooked?”

Siraak raised an eyebrow. “Such attractions may be fraudulent or dangerous.”

“Or they might be fun,” he countered. “Come on, Siraak, live a little. Let your hair down and do something spontaneous.”

Yuen looked between the two of them before nodding at him. “I’m game.”

Seeing that she wasn’t going to beat them, and given their advice to stay together, she had better join them. “Very well,” she conceded, putting her datapad back into the shoulder bag she wore. “What do you suggest?”

“Putting me on the spot to see if I squirm, eh?”

Slowly he turned around, looking at all the buildings between the throngs of people, trying to see what caught his eye. The hustle and bustle of the place put him at ease strangely, though there were so many unknowns and possible dangers around them the whole station felt alive as the hordes of people went about their day.

As he looked around, the crowd seemed to part and he caught sight of a Tathini standing by the entrance of a store, its long body rippled and swayed as though dancing to music only they could hear. The front of the building was brightly coloured, with signs in multiple alien languages around the entrance, though he had no way of knowing just what they said. The longer he looked, the more curious he became. He pointed towards the building, directing Siraak and Yuen’s attention to it.

“Let’s go and see what that’s all about.”

* * * * *

Ship’s log, supplemental. Lieutenant Ydaris Maq’on recording.

Further monitoring of all comm signals from crew on shore leave have shown no further abnormalities, and Ensign Tathar’s group haven’t displayed any unusual activity. We’ll continue to keep an eye on all those aboard the station.

I don’t know why, but I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this place. I wish I could put into words what has me on tenterhooks, but I just don’t know. When the Captain is back aboard I’ll raise my concerns with him, though I’m not sure exactly what he’ll say about it—unless of course Commander Celan has sensed something odd, though even then that’s hardly much to go on.

I hope this is just a case of security chief paranoia.

* * * * *

 

[Bry_Sinclair]

LOCATION: Unknown

From outside the door the raised voices filtered through, though muffled their words cut deep.

“I never wanted her! It’s your fault that mongrel even exists, so you deal with her!”

“You assume that I would be willing to look after her.”

“Then drop her on Vulcan somewhere, I don’t care.”

“She won’t be accepted on Vulcan; it would be logical for her to remain with you.”

“She’ll slow me down. Her only use would be as a diversion.”

“You would sacrifice her life to save you own?”

“Without hesitation.”

Siraak screwed her eyes tightly shut as tears ran down her cheeks. The voices of her parents ringing in her pointed ears. She’d never heard such a conversation prior to her mother leaving them, but part of her had always wondered if there had been. Had she been the reason her family had fallen apart.

“Siraak.”

Her mothers voice was clearer now. She opened her eyes to see her crouch down in front of her, her mother’s long black hair fell over her shoulder, the same hazel eyes Siraak saw in the mirror each day focused solely on her.

“Mother?” she questioned hopefully, reaching out with both hands.

Her mother took hold of her wrists and gripped tightly, causing jolts of pain to travel up her arms, making her squeal and tug, trying to break away. “You are hurting me!”

She was yanked forward, so her face was barely five centimetres away from her mothers’. “You were a mistake,” she hissed, with such venom that it felt as though a serpent had sunk its fangs deep into her chest.

The pain vanished as did her mother, leaving her alone in the dark, rubbing her wrists as tear continued to stream down her face. Mother, she silently called out as she sobbed.

“Siraak, such emotional displays are unacceptable,” her father scolded her. “You must learn discipline and control. You must embrace logic if you are to be my child.”

She wiped away her tears. “I will father, I promise I will.”

He loomed over her, looking down at the frightened child before him. He was the model of how a Vulcan should present themselves with robes perfectly pressed, his straight, dark brown hair (that she also had) was immaculate, without a single strand out of place. She looked up at him, trying to project the control he demanded of her, but he turned up his nose.

“You are a burden, Siraak, your emotional frailty is a weakness to both of us. If anyone were to learn of what you were, my position would be untenable. All your failings reflect upon me. Remember that.”

“I…I am sorry, Father.”

“I have no need of your apologies, I need you to be a proper Vulcan.”

He disappeared as quickly as her mother had. She stood there, trembling, unsure is she was going to wail or scream.

“All you’ve ever done is lie to me!”

She spun around to see Na-Gharii standing there, a look of sheer revulsion on his handsome face.

“Xan?”

“You sicken me.”

“I can explain—”

“Save it for your courtmartial.”

“Xan—”

He faded into the darkness that pressed tightly against her, squeezing the air from her lungs, forcing its way down her nostrils. “No,” she gasped as the black took her.

* * * * *

Officer’s Quarters, U.S.S. Atlas
Stardate: 38515.1

Htennak sighed in the dark. Despite the previous day having been mentally exhausting and the one ahead likely to be much the same, he had tossed and turned for hours trying to sleep and not getting anywhere. He glanced at the chronometer and saw it was just after 0100, which meant he would be back in the stations meeting room in a little under eight hours.

The growl of his stomach clinched it. He flung the covers off, grabbed his robe and headed for the mess hall. Thanks to his Ktarian physiology, which saw his species mature rapidly before slowing down upon reaching adulthood, his metabolism was higher than most.

Before, he’d never really thought of sixty-six people being enough to comprise a crowd, but he suddenly realised that he felt it on the Atlas, especially now two-thirds of them were off the ship (with almost all of them deciding to book accommodation on the station as well, to give themselves a proper break). Luckily, he didn’t have far to go to get to the mess.

Stepping inside, only minimal lighting was on, giving the room a cosy and intimate feel. As soon as he entered, he felt as though he wasn’t alone.

“Hello?”

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Celan replied from one of the shadier corners.

“Can’t seem to get comfy tonight, don’t ask me why,” he explained moving over to the replicator and ordering himself a chocolate puff with whipped cream. He looked over at the Deltan as the device hummed to life and created his decadent dessert. “Can I get you anything?”

She raised a steaming mug of something. “I’m good thanks, Counsellor.”

He picked up his bowl and walked over to her table. “Do you mind?”

“Please.”

He slipped into the seat opposite her and broke into the hard chocolate shell, then through the layers of chocolate sponge and fillings, before taking a bite and letting out a pleased moan. Though Ktarians weren’t as hedonistic as the Deltans of Efrosians, they did take great pleasure in their food, boasting one of the best catering schools in the quadrant.

“That was just what I was needing,” he admitted.

“I can tell,” she chuckled.

They sat in comfortable silence for a long moment. He had quickly come to like Celan, she was a straight shooter with a sharp wit and an infectious laugh, it was easy to see why she and Keller were such good friends, to the point that she could read him like a book—Keller had told him that she’d already figured out they were involved, and warned him that she may grill him just to make sure that he wasn’t going to break her friends heart.

He glanced at her and caught a look in her eye, followed by a wicked grin. Damn telepaths, he cursed to himself.

“So, Counsellor, what are your intentions with Bruce?”

“Wow, you just came out swinging, didn’t you?”

“No point in being subtle with some matters.”

“The tough love approach.”

She shrugged. “What can I say, he’s like a brother to me, I only want to look out for him—he’s got a pretty atrocious record when it comes to dating.”

“So he told me.”

“What about you? Any dating skeletons in the airlock?”

“I was married once before.”

His reply clearly caught her off-guard. “Oh?”

“And before you ask, yes, Bruce knows.”

“But you’re divorced now I’m guessing.”

He nodded, the memory of Fenex made him smile. “We were only married about a year, tying the knot just before graduation, but then he got a year-long assignment on an exploratory cruiser, so we didn’t see each other until he got back. By then, it was pretty clear that love over light-years wasn’t something that was going to work for either of us. So, we got divorced though have stayed in touch—he’s currently the second officer of the U.S.S. Exeter.”

“Did that put you off getting married again?”

Htennak smiled at her. She was good. “Not at all. It would just need to be with the right man.”

She sipped from her mug. “No one ever come close to being Mr Right?”

“Close, yes, but not quite there.” He took another bite, enjoying the thick, silky ganache. “What about yourself? Ever had thoughts of getting married?”

“Marriage is a foreign concept for Deltans, a few have embraced the idea and bonded themselves to a single partner, or sometimes two of three, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen the appeal myself.”

“There is no universal metric against which ones happiness can be measured, what’s right for one person might be completely wrong for another.”

“Precisely,” she agreed and took another sip. “Of course, Bruce has always been something of a romantic and at one time would’ve loved the idea of having a husband.”

He frowned. “But not now?”

“He’s only just made captain and been given his first command, he’s still trying to figure out what all that means to him, so thoughts about what he wanted in his personal life had taken a back seat—until I inadvertently dosed you all with my pheromones that is.”

“Celan, if you’re worried that our being together will be a distraction for him believe me I’ve thought about that myself. The last thing I want for him is to second guess himself or his decisions because of me.”

She rested a hand on top of his. “You don’t need to worry about that, Htennak, that’s my job. I’ll play his devil’s advocate and keep him on his toes.

“No,” she continued. “What I wanted to say was, thank you. Thank you for making him the happiest I’ve seen him in over two years, even more so than when he got that fourth pip.”

His eyes moistened as he smiled at her. “It definitely goes both ways.”

“I’m glad. Though I will just say, you better prepare yourself for whenever he introduces you to his parents—they’re quite the pair.”

From their little table in the corner of the room, their laughter filled the mess hall and echoed into the empty corridors beyond.

* * * * *

Conference Room 10, Tathini Trading Station

Minister Jal-Phes looked up from her agenda and around the circular table they all sat at. “Now, onto the main topic for today: the Xul.”

Keller fought to keep from squirming in his seat. This had been the matter he’d been dreading the most, given what had occurred during their first time encountering the brutish species, and worrying just what that might mean for the region, especially after they were gone.

“As you’ll all be aware, due to the actions of Captain Keller and his crew, the Xul have been left without a way to replenish their fuel supply which, as it turns out, was actually a sentient species they were harvesting.”

“Our intelligence reports that they had already amassed quite a stockpile of herexen before the incident, at least enough to last them three years at their present rate of consumption,” stated Speaker Gwgan, one eye-stalk swivelled between the other native delegates whilst the other stayed locked on the three Starfleet officers.

Ambassador Monog steepled one pair of hands before her face. “Our reconnaissance of the gas giant shows an increased number of Xul ships in orbit, however no herexen was detected onboard any of them. It looks as though they have well and truly lost their fuel supply.”

He sat forward and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “I wish I knew what the right thing to say here was, but all I can tell you is that we received a desperate plea for help, one that rendered several of my crew unconscious for the sheer intensity of the T’hei Na’a’s call, and I knew we couldn’t just stand back and watch an innocent species be killed.”

The Ohmaron chairperson held up her hands. “You have nothing to fear here, Captain, you may have done all of us and many others a great service. The Xul have been preying on out freighters and transports for years now, attacking and ransacking indiscriminately, plundering all they could.”

“But now, with their fuel having only a finite supply, they’ll need to ration what they have for as long as they can which could mean fewer raiding parties,” stated Celan.

Jal-Phes wiggled her trunk. “Indeed, Commander.”

“We must decide how to proceed then,” Gwgan said, clacking his beak rapidly. “Scatter our ships, to make going after just one at a time would be a waste of their resources, or group them together in large, well defended convoys, to make them think twice about possibly losing their own ships and their supplies of fuel.”

He let out a silent breath as the three trading partners excitedly began debating the options proposed, or putting forward other ideas they could try. He’d managed to pass this particular hurdle, with those most at risk looking at what the positives might be for them going forward. The next one he’d face would be once Starfleet got hold of their after-action reports and logs, would they accept what he had done to preserve life, or had he ignored the Prime Directive and acted outside of his authority?

Only time would tell.

* * * * *

 

[Bry_Sinclair]

LOCATION: Unknown

The corridors of the Atlas were empty. Every time Na-Gharii had shouted, as he looked for one of his shipmates, the echoes were swallowed up by the silence. Something drastic must have happened, he couldn’t remember when he’d returned to the ship or what had happened to Siraak and Yuen, he wasn’t even sure what deck he was on as none of the doors were labelled and every passage he took led back to the long straight corridor he slowly made his way down. There was no sign of anyone else, not even over his combadge, the computer refused to respond to him, and there wasn’t even the hum of the engines.

He was alone.

Stepping up to another blank door the panels refused to part yet again. He gripped onto them and putting all of his considerable muscle into it tried to force them open, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Anyone? Hello!”

His hearts pounded as he quickly went over all the possibilities in his head, none of them were good. To make matters worse, if he couldn’t find a working console and try to contact Starfleet, no one would ever know what had happened to them. Hell, even if he did manage to get a signal out, help would be weeks away. He could be on his own for all that time.

Na-Gharii shook his head. “No,” he said to himself, with a confidence he didn’t really feel. “Someone has to be here, and I will find them.”

He took off at a sprint, heading down the hallway, banging on every door he passed. Slapping his combadge he started trying to signal every member of the crew, hoping he would get lucky. Of course, he kept trying Siraak—if there was an emergency aboard ship, he knew she would be the one to help him solve it. Ahead of him he saw the corridor end, branching out in two different directions. Without thinking he turned left.

He skidded to a stop; the balls of his feet perched on the edge of the deck plates. His arm shot out and grabbed the nearest railing and steadied himself as he looked out into a black void, even darker than the interior of the Maelstrom, not even a single star shone through the murky depths of the opening before him. He stepped back and quickly turned away from it, planning on heading down the opposite corridor, but found himself stuck.

Looking at his feet, opaque tendrils of space wrapped around his shins and ankles, holding him firmly in place. He tried to pull one of his legs free but was held tight.

The tentacles jerked backwards, toppling him to the hard deck and drawing him towards the void. He tried to grab onto the bulkhead panels and even the deck itself, but his fingers couldn’t find purchase.

“Help me!” he screamed.

His plea went unanswered, still echoing through the empty corridor as he was pulled into the pitch black.

* * * * *

Bridge, U.S.S. Atlas

Out of the corner of her eye, Maq’on watched as Lieutenant (j.g.) Lopez and Crewman Riza lay underneath the tactical console as they patched in a new ODN line for the targeting sensors. During their recent engagement with the Xul, she had noticed that getting an accurate target lock had been sluggish, and so with their downtime she’d asked the engineering officer to see if he could isolate the problem. The new datalink that was being installed should correct the problem and keep it from happening again, or so he said—she would ultimately be the judge of that.

The Saurian security guard popped her coral head out from under the console. “That’s the new line in place, sir. Shall I begin diagnostics?”

Before Maq’on could reply, every screen and control panel suddenly flickered and the lights above them dimmed. She shot around to Tyne, who was once against seated at ops.

“Chief?”

The non-coms fingers danced across the controls in the blink of an eye as she quickly assessed the situation. “We’re being hacked, or at least someone is trying to.”

Lopez leapt to his feet and darted over to the engineering station as Riza sat at tactical, both quickly beginning to look at the reports the computer was providing them. Maq’on was leaning over Tyne, as the older woman deftly tried to stay ahead of whoever was trying to slice into their computer system.

“I’m trying to lock down the cores, but whoever is behind this knows the system almost as well as I do.”

“Lieutenant, see if you can trace them back to the source. If we know where this attack is coming from physically then we might be able to stop them there.”

“Aye sir,” replied Lopez and set to his task.

An alarm from tactical immediately caught her attention. “Sir, someone is trying to force open our airlock!”

“What the hell is going on?” she asked, knowing that none of them would have an answer. Slapping the companel she opened up an the intraship channel. “Red alert! We have an unknown force trying to board the ship via the airlock. All available personnel, arm yourselves and report to the port docking bay to repel the intruders.”

She was already on her way to the turbolift. “Riza, with me. Keep working on that hack.”

As the carriage descended, she hated that her bad feeling had been proven right—though this wasn’t exactly what she’d expected, it did prove that whoever was behind it was organised and had clearly been planning this attack. She took a breath and tapped her combadge, it was time she reported in what was going on.

“Maq’on to Keller.”

There was a brief pause before the response came. “Keller here. Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

When she’d been left in command, her standing orders were only to contact the away team if there was a serious situation onboard, so he would already know that this was going to be bad. “Captain, we’re under attack. Just minutes ago, someone launched a cyberattack on the Atlas trying to get into our computer system, and now we have an unknown hostile force trying to board the ship.”

“On our way. We’ll round up as many of the crew as possible and try to box them in.”

“Understood.”

“Keep me apprised. Keller out.”

The turbolift stopped. They stepped out onto deck eleven, where Chief Phillips greeted them with a pair of phasers. She quickly looked up and down the corridor to see a dozen of the crew, a mix of gold, blue and red uniforms, all mustered, each of them brandishing a type-two phaser. Among the younger crewmen were looks of trepidation or fear, this would no doubt be the first time they were going into a firefight.

She quickly devised a battle plan. Given they didn’t know the size or capabilities of those trying to force the airlock, a head-on confrontation would be suicide. They would make the most of the ships door alcoves for cover and stagger the crew, so that should the hostiles advance they would be met with resistance at multiple points. She paired them all up, making sure to have the best shots on the frontlines, with the rookies teamed up with someone more experienced further back. With the computer being targeted, they couldn’t rely on forcefields, for all she knew they’d already gained access to them and could shut them down at the touch of a button.

“Keep phasers on heavy stun and pick your targets, the last thing we need is friendly fire. Take your places and stand ready.”

“Yes sir,” the assembled crew barked at once before they all hurried off to take their places. Hers was at the front, Riza by her side.

Aiming her weapon at the doors, she steadied her breathing and waited.

* * * * *

LOCATION: Unknown

The emergency lighting bathed the ship in red, hiding all the blood that soaked Yuen’s coveralls and caked onto her hands and face. Smoke ghosted through the scared corridors, the air thick with the smell of scorched metal, melting plastics, and burnt meat, but the environmental systems were out so she would only get used to the smell of death—she would never be able to forget it.

They had been adrift for days, ever since the Nausicaan raiders had had their fun and left them for dead. The New Dawn was without power, her life support was destroyed, communications array fried, half her crew were buried under wreckage, blown out into space or had been vapourised as the disruptors had cut through the freighter. Of those who were left only three, herself included, had escaped any serious injury, whilst four others were in critical condition—one of them being her father—but with the medical bay smashed to pieces all she had was an emergency medkit.

“Helena!” her mother screamed from the mess hall turned sickbay.

She rushed inside to see her father shaking violently, his head rest on his wife’s lap as she stroked his sweat soaked brow. Her mama looked at her. “You have to do something!”

Yuen looked at her baba, his right arm had been crushed by a falling support strut, and though she had done all she could for him he’d quickly developed sepsis. A simple hypospray would’ve cured him, but the kit didn’t have any, and what supplies they’d had were gone.

“Please, Helena. Help him!”

“I…I don’t know how,” she admitted.

“You have to do something!”

At just nineteen, still undergoing her training to be a ship’s medtech, she now had her baba’s life in her hands. A man whose lap she had sat on as he taught her the finer points of starship navigation, helped him make his mouth-watering bao, learned how to take apart a transporter platform and put it back together again; he had always been there for her and now she needed to be there for him.

She grabbed her kit and quickly looking around the hastily cobbled together ward. Propped up in the corner she saw a laser cutter, though normally used to cut through denser materials, like metal, it would make quick work of muscle and bone.

Pointing to the cutter, she said to the nearest person, “Pass that over.”

The look on the assistant helmsman’s face was one of horror. But she paid it no attention and repeated herself as she rummaged for a drug that might help knock her father out long enough to do what was needed. After checking the few vials she had left, the only analgesic she had was hydrocortilene, which was more commonly used for headaches but it was either that or she perform surgery with nothing but the delirium the blood infection had already caused.

She loaded the hypo and set the dosage, then pressed it against his neck. With a hiss, the medication was delivered, and his body relaxed. Picking up the laser cutter, she looked at her mama, the assistant helmsman, and one of the deckhands who was conscious.

“I need you to hold him steady,” she told them, looking at her fathers mangled arm.

The three others braced his shoulders and legs, pinning him the bed roll that he lay on. Her hand visibly shaking, she activated the cutter, reducing the intensity as low as it would go know that even at that level it would cauterise the wound as it ripped through his flesh. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked down at his face, his skin too pale and clammy, his body shivering as it struggled to fight the infection that would claim his life if she didn’t act.

Holding the engineering tool just above his elbow, she knew what she had to do, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t.

The medical tricorder she’d set beside him to monitor his vital signs altered as his temperature increased whilst heart rate and blood pressure dropped. He was losing the fight going on inside his own body. She could help him. Just a few seconds and she would have removed the source of the infection and given him a fighting chance, bought his a few more days at least.

“Please, Helena,” her mama pleaded.

I’m sorry, she silently said to him and cut into his skin.

His gargled groans filled her ears as she closed her eyes and embraced the darkness behind her lids.

* * * * *

Docking Bay 79, Tathini Trading Station

As soon as the call had come in, Keller knew there was a major issue. But with his ship under siege in two distinct ways he had to act now, and then try to figure out the reasons why later. When Maq’on had informed him of what was going on, all those in the conference room had been shocked—seemingly such violence on this scale hadn’t happened in any of their memories. Administrator Trejan was alerting security as the away team excused themselves and sprinted towards the docking bay, Keller alerting all personnel on leave of the issue and instructing all those in the vicinity to proceed to the ship and form a defensive perimeter. Though exactly what they could do with no weapons he still had to figure out.

By the time he, Celan and Htennak reached the arrival lounge, thirteen members of the crew had managed to assemble and take up positions. He immediately spotted Lieutenant sh’Thallas among them, who had already taken charge of the situation and had the various crewmembers take up positions at each of the entrances. There was no sign of the stations police force.

“Sitrep?”

“It’s the Xul, sir,” the Andorian said plainly.

“Of course it is,” he muttered to himself. They’d made themselves an enemy the moment he had chosen to help the T’hei Na’a, but when faced with the alternative he’d make the same call without hesitation. “How many?”

“It’s hard to get an accurate count, they keep moving and those ugly suckers all look alike, but I’d say around thirty. They have some device clamped onto the airlock that looks to be trying to part the doors.”

He nodded and then slipped ahead of her and poked his head into the opening, looking over the situation himself. She was right about it being hard to get a count of how many there were, with all of them looking almost indistinct from one another, except for perhaps the patterns of dark green or brown slime-covered scales. The vast majority were focused on the doors, with their equivalent of a battering ram struggling to get them inside the ship, though a few were looking around but didn’t seem to notice the fact they had company. Though the heavy disruptor rifles each of them carried might have been the reason they didn’t appear all that fussed.

Keller withdrew his head and looked at the collection of officers and crew who lined either side of the corridor. They were outnumbered about two-to-one, with their enemy having a distinct advantage with regards to weaponry.

He tapped his combadge. “Keller to Maq’on.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“You’ve got around thirty, heavily armed Xul outside the airlock. There are sixteen crew covering all three entry points to the docking bay lounge, and station security is meant to be on their way.”

“Acknowledged. The integrity of the airlock is down to fifteen percent, they’ll break through any minute now.”

“We’ll try to get their attention, split their forces, and just hope we get some backup here soon.”

“I’ll make sure that any Xul who sets foot on this ship will regret it, sir.”

Despite the situation he found himself facing he couldn’t help but smile. “I know you will, Lieutenant. Keller out.” He looked back at the assembled group. “Commander, head to the port entrance, I’ll take starboard. Once we’re all in position, create as much noise and chaos as you can, our aim is to distract and confuse them as best we can, avoid direct engagement—they’ve got the upper hand on us when it comes to firepower.

“Everyone clear?” he asked, looking at each of them in turn. They all nodded. “Let’s move.”

Before he could move a muscle, Celan said, “Counsellor, you’re with me.”

He was thankful for her in that moment. Though he was still going to worry about Htennak’s safety, just like any other member of his crew (admittedly a little more), her order would keep him out of Keller’s immediate concern and allow him to focus on the crew he would be leading into this potentially deadly encounter. It was situations such as these that having a boyfriend among those he commanded made then even more dangerous, even though he tried to tell himself all the platitudes, it was still very much the elephant in the room.

Shaking his head to clear the thought, he backtracked down the corridor until he reached a branch that would take him towards his destination. Upon arrival he found Ensign Gron as the ranking officer, the Tellarite was Maq’on’s second-in-command and was remarkably level-headed for one of his people. He quickly gave the five of them their orders.

“Captain,” Gron spoke up after Keller had finished, “I’ve noticed something odd about the Xul.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t believe they have very good eyesight. There have been at least seven occasions when they should’ve spotted us and laying down suppressing fire, but they seem oblivious to our presence.”

“I noticed that as well.”

The security officer pointed to the rows of bolted down benches in the waiting area. “If a few of us could slip inside and spread out, then we could draw more of their attention and keep them off balance longer.”

Keller looked at the seating arrangements, which were easily five meters away from the entrance, and likely wouldn’t provide much protection from the super-heated plasma of their weapons, though it would mean that the crew weren’t bottlenecked at the three entry points. Once inside the room, with their distraction in full swing, then they might be able to disarm some of their opponents and launch a counterattack, catching them in a crossfire with the crew onboard the Atlas. It was a crazy plan, but it might just give them an edge.

He quickly contacted Celan and sh’Thallas and explained the madcap plan and asked for two volunteers from the groups who were willing to take the risk. Immediately, he had four volunteers over the commlink, as well as Gron and Crewman Tal’Vor from his own group. He thanked them all and told the other teams to make their move as soon as they saw an opening, then looked at the Vulcan security guard.

“Your bravery is commendable, Crewman, but I’ll be going out there with Mr Gron,” he stated, his tone showing this was no time to argue with him. “You ready, Ensign?”

A lopsided smile appeared on Gron’s porcine face. “This is what I live for, sir.”

Keller checked the entry room, where the sound of duranium groaning and starting to buckle grew louder. The noise drew all the Xul’s attention, with a ripple of excitement spreading through the soon-to-be boarders.

“Go!” he hissed, darting out into the open trying to pick up as much speed as possible, so he could drop to his knees and slide towards what cover the chairs offered. Gron had the exact same idea. He looked across the divide between them and motioned to put some distance between them and the entrance.

He crawled further along, as he went his combadge vibrated four times, telling him the others had all made their move and were in position. Tapping the pin on his chest, he whispered, “Wait for my signal.”

The airlock doors cracked at the seam, letting out a hiss, before the panels were forced back into their recesses in the bulkhead. As soon as the narrowest of gaps appeared the tell-tale whine of a phaser filled the air and hit one of the Xul, dropping him to the deck immediately. This was their moment.

He sprang up, grabbed a potted plant on a small table next to him and hurled it at the nearest hostile, letting out a roar that even a Klingon would’ve been proud of. He saw his target turn towards him, clearly shocked at the sudden noise that echoed around the cavernous lounge, before being hit in the sit of his wide head by the incoming projectile. Keller dropped back to the floor, as shouts and screams and banging from every direction filled the space.

The Xul opened fire haphazardly, their shots scorching the walls or floor, but not getting anywhere near an actual target.

As the entrance to the Atlas was finally forced completely open, the sound of Starfleet phasers quickly overtook that of the enemy weapons. In the open, the Xul were sitting ducks, whilst Keller and his crew had ample cover and surprise on their side. The panicked amphibious-looking aliens didn’t seem to comprehend exactly what was going on around them.

Keller peeked out and saw the one he’d hit in the head, stumbling around, clearly disorientated. He seized the moment and leapt out of his hiding spot, vaulting over the bench and landing a kick to the front of the Xul’s thick throat, causing his to gasp and wheeze. He wrenched the weapons out of his hand, then smacked the butt of the rifle into his skull and dropped him to the ground. After a quick check of the weapon, he found the power gage and reduced it down to stun, then took aim and opened fire.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Celan similarly disarm another Xul and begin to attack, quickly followed by Gron. In the space of barely three minutes, three quarters of the attacking force were downed with the others being quickly surrounded, their own weapons trained on them.

“Surrender,” he barked at them.

Fortunately, those who were left saw their situation was untenable and dropped their rifles. Silence settled on the lounge. From the docking port, Maq’on stepped out her phaser still aimed.

“I’m pleased to report, not one Xul set even a foot onto the ship, sir.”

He looked at her and gave a single nod. “Nicely done, Lieutenant.”

As the crew who’d formerly been on liberty came out of their hiding places and quickly started securing the enemies weapons, and corpsman Dragos began checking them over for serious injuries, a familiar scuttle of dozens of legs against metal echoed down the corridors. A moment later, two dozen Tathini skittered into the departure lounge and immediately began to round up the Xul.

Better late than never, he told himself.

He quickly headed into the ship, his senior officers close behind, as the rest of the crew helped with the aftermath of the failed siege. In seconds, they were heading up to the bridge. It was only then he looked at Htennak and saw the look of concern on his face, no doubt still trying to process Keller risking his life for a half-baked plan that could’ve very easily gone the opposite way.

The turbolift stopped and he led the way onto the bridge. “Report.”

“Whoever this hacker is, they’re good,” stated Tyne who never looked away from the ops panel. “Everything I try they counter and vice versa, so far I’m managing to keep them out of the central control processor, but I don’t know for how much longer I can hold them off.”

Maq’on moved over to Lieutenant Lopez. “Have you been able to track them down?”

“It’s coming for entertainment module zero-eight-one, section k-eighteen. That’s as close as I can get you.”

Keller turned to Htennak. “Counsellor, stay here. Recall all crew and keep the ship at red alert. Get whoever the Chief needs to help stay ahead of the hackers. Commander, Lieutenant, with me; we’ll pull together whoever we can and put a stop to this.”

* * * * *

 

[Bry_Sinclair]

Entertainment Module 081, Tethini Trading Station

Two six-person teams materialised into an open plaza in the centre of section K-18, a mixture of uniforms and civvies as they’d rushed to get their immediate crisis resolved, though all of them were equipped with phasers and tricorders. The sudden appearance of the armed aliens had the residents and transients of the station quickly scarper.

Keller quickly surveyed the area, his phaser in hand—he wasn’t taking any chances, for all he knew there were fifty Xul waiting in ambush for them. As the throng of people scattered away from them, it became easier to see what he was dealing with. The entertainment module reminded him more of a city, with individual buildings, streets and lanes rather than the inside of a station, but that just meant there were more places hostiles could be hiding. They would be vulnerable out in the open and when they started checking buildings, there were just too many unknowns for them to counter.

“Alright, split up into teams of three. Commander, sh’Thallas, and Maq’on, take teams north, east and west, I’ll head south. Remain in contact at all times and watch your surroundings, we don’t know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“Understood,” the three team leaders replied, then quickly began selecting who they wanted.

He took Gron and Dragos with him and headed south. Those that saw them had a mixture of fear, trepidation or outrage on their faces, though none challenged them, though he suspected more than a few were quickly placing calls to the local police—not that he expected a quick response time.

“Atlas to Keller,” Htennak’s voice piped through his combadge.

“Go ahead.”

“All but three of the crew have confirmed the orders to return.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, a scowl etching itself on his brow. “Who are we missing?”

“Lieutenants Na-Gharii, Siraak and Yuen, and Ensigns Tathar, de Boer and Idahn.”

“Do you have their last confirmed position?”

“Checking.” The wait was painful. Members of his crew were unaccounted for, possibly in serious danger, he needed to be doing something! He looked around them scrutinising every nook and cranny, looking for where an attacker could spring from. “Got it. Feeding the co-ordinates to your tricorders now.”

“Thank you, Htennak. Keller out.”

“Sir,” Dragos began, showing him her medical tricorder screen, “it looks like they’re a few streets away.”

He looked at the corpsman’s scanner and then noticed something that seemed out of the ordinary. Something in that vicinity was draining a lot of power and producing some very strange readings. He tapped his combadge. “Keller to all teams. We have crew who have reported in, check your tricorders for co-ordinates and report anything unusual.”

It took a moment for the other teams to run their own scans, but as soon as they did all three reported the same readings.

Gron snorted. “That’s too much of a coincidence, and I don’t believe in coincidences. I’d put good money on the hacker and the kidnapper being one and the same.”

“I’d be tempted to agree, Ensign. All teams, converge on that location. We may have hostages at that location, so watch out for friendlies.”

He closed the channel and took off at a full sprint, his time on the Academy had seen him claim many medals for the decathlon team and maintain a similar training regime throughout his career, ensuring he was in great shape and still able to outrun most of his shipmates. Gron and Dragos kept up as best they could, the corpsman a close second.

It didn’t take him long to reach the next square, diagonally opposite him was where his crews last known location and the huge draw on resources converged. It looked just like any of the other buildings he’d passed, two storeys’, with an abundance of signage around the entrance and covering the window on the ground floor, making it impossible to see inside. As with their beam in site, as soon as the armed personnel were spotted the crowds quickly dispersed, giving him a clear view. No one seemed to notice the building as they hurried past it, there was no sign of anyone inside or out, but the more he studied it the more he knew it was where they needed to go.

Movement at a few of the intersecting streets and alleyways grabbed his attention, though he breathed a sigh of relief seeing the rest of his teams assemble—he noted they had spread out and were in position to approach from multiple different angles. Using hand signals he order Celan’s team to cover the perimeter, sh’Tharras’ were to take up position in overwatch and keep an eye out for threats they might not see from the ground, whilst Maq’on, T’Pera and Riza would be going inside with his team. He knew his XO wouldn’t like him leading the way inside, especially whist she wasn’t going with him, but if anything did happen to him she would need to take command of the Atlas—he couldn’t put them both at risk.

With a sharp jerk of his hand, he motioned for them to move. Immediately they were in motion, trying to stick to cover as much as possible without putting any of the bystanders at risk, even though there may well be spies in their midst. Luckily, they reached the other side of square without any incidents and the teams immediately headed for their assigned tasks. He gave them all a few minutes to get into position, even though he knew that every moment gave the hackers a chance of getting into the ships computer.

His combadge vibrated as it had in the departure lounge, the teams were in place and ready to proceed. He looked at Maq’on, whose youthful face was set, her long dark navy hair pulled back and tied out of her way. She glanced at him and gave him a nod.

Stepping closer to the door it remained closed. He hit the control panel, but it did nothing. Prying it open he peered inside at the wires and control circuits, quickly familiarising himself with the technology and figuring out the release mechanism. After a few seconds he had overridden the lock, one more circuit would open the panels.

“Stand ready,” he instructed.

They raised their weapons and took cover, giving him the nod when in position. He removed the control cylinder and the doors hissed open. Silence emanated from inside. With no activity, Maq’on darted inside, quickly followed by Gron, Riza, Dragos and T’Pera. Keller stood up and covered their rear.

Inside the store they found a blank space, no sign of any doors or even the window at the front of the building, only the light from outside showed them the emptiness of the room.

“What the frak?” grunted Gron.

Keller noticed Maq’on adjust her phaser settings, before aiming the black wall and firing. A wide beam shot out, covering an almost one-hundred-and-eighty-degree angle but instead of impacting the wall, the surface shimmered and crackled before disappearing. She held her fire and looked back at them.

“It’s a hologram.”

“Nice work, Lieutenant. Lead the way.”

They passed through the gap in the illusion to find the real room beyond, a filthy, rundown space, covered in graffiti, with a pungent bitter smell he didn’t want to dwell on. From outside the hologram, they could look into it and watch whoever might find themselves inside, watching their hapless prey before they struck.

Only one door led out of the room and into a staircase, so the steadily headed up to the upper level. His heart pounded in his chest, hoping they were right in that it was the hacker who had taken his missing crew. One thing he’d quickly learned about command as an XO was that it was often a numbers game, a leader might often have to make decisions that goes against their moral core if it meant saving or preserving the greater number of lives—the needs of the many outweighing the few—which in this case meant looking after the whole ship first. It was a horrible situation, and wone he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to face but there was a reason the Kobayashi Maru was still a required test for cadets aiming for command one day.

At the top of the stairs, they found another locked door. He quickly repeated what he’d done on the ground floor, quicker this time, so when his security chief gave him the nod he popped the doors and they slid open.

Maq’on was first through the opening, the rest close behind. He had expected to hear her shouting, ordering whoever was inside to stand down and step away from whatever console might have been inside, but there was nothing. Quickly following them inside he stopped in his tracks at what he saw.

Along three of the walls were ten upright tables, strapped to six of which were the missing officers, each of them were wincing and shaking as though trapped in some kind of nightmare, which he suspected had something to do with the device around their heads. In the centre of the room was a single chair, with an apparatus above it connecting a similar device to the head of an alien Keller hadn’t seen before.

They were as white as snow and balder than a Deltan, not even having any hint of eyebrows or lashes, their thin face seemingly devoid of structure, making it eerily smooth and taut, he couldn’t even hazard a guess at its gender (if their species even possessed any), though they had eyes, nose and mouth, the ears were simply two small holes on either side of their skull.

Dragos darted over to the nearest lab table, which had Ensign Idahn secured to it, and flipped open her tricorder. He directed the others to check on the rest, whilst he and Maq’on had the perpetrator covered.

“They’re alive, sir, but I’m reading an inordinate amount of brain activity, it looks as though they are caught in a prolonged REM state. Adrenaline levels are dangerously high.”

“Can we disconnect them?”

“I don’t know, sir,” she admitted.

The aliens eyelids opened, revealing solid black eyes that seemed to suck in everything they looked at, and they were focused solely on him. He gripped his phaser tighter.

“Release me crew!”

The being tilted their head. “Your crew are right to admire you, Captain Keller. It took longer to induct them than I’d expected, each of them believed you would not abandon them, and they were right.”

“Release them,” he insisted.

They tilted their head to the other side. A moment later all the devices deactivated and the occupants in the near vertical beds slumped against their restraints.

“Why have you done this?”

A mirthless smile spread across their thin lips. “I am merely a contractor. No more, no less.”

“Hired by the Xul, I’m guessing.”

“Correct, Captain Keller. They desired information on your vessel and a means to access it. However, it would seem they opted for the brute force approach instead of waiting for me to complete my work—which was much harder than I expected, I would very much like to meet whoever was counteracting me, they are exceptionally skilled.”

“I don’t think you’ll be engaging with any more of my crew than you already have.”

“For now, at least, Captain Keller.”

Before he could say or do anything else, the hacker tapped their wrist and in an instance they appeared to fade into nothing. He flipped open his tricorder and picked up a faint transporter pattern, but it was already degrading, there would be no way for them to track where it had gone. They had escaped.

“Damn,” he murmured under his breath then tapped his combadge. “Building secured. We have them.”

* * * * *

Captain’s log, supplemental.

The crewmembers who were abducted have all regained consciousness and, after their adrenaline levels and brain waves return to normal levels, should make a full recovery. Nurse Zyl will monitor them for any side effects of what they endured, though going by the initial accounts of what they experienced I believe Counsellor Htennak may be best suited to help them.

The Tathini and the delegates of the conference have all expressed their deepest apologies for what has occurred. They have helped to identify the alien behind this attack as a D’Saran, a native species who are considered very secretive to all of them, with limited contact, so it’s unclear if what they said is right and this was just the work of a single individual, or if it is an indication how they might respond to us in future encounters. Administrator Trejan has stated that he will conduct a full review of just how the Xul got so far through the station whilst armed and has offered to cover the repairs to our airlock. Fortunately, no crew were injured in the firefight.

I can’t put into words how proud I am of the crew for their heroic actions and bravery in this situation, they have performed well beyond my expectations.

* * * * *

END

 

[Bynar0110]

I enjoyed reading that a lot.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Quite the adventure and more great world-building with the station and the surprisingly heavily populated expanse. Great subplot with the D'Saran contractor to the Xul, who continue to be an interesting adversary. And critter design to rival Gibraltar - and that's saying something. Well done! Thanks!! rbs

 

[Bry_Sinclair]

And critter design to rival Gibraltar - and that's saying something. Well done! Thanks!! rbs

High praise indeed, I'll take it!

 

[Bynar0110]

Its always the oberth class ships that gets picked on.

 

[Bry_Sinclair]

Its always the oberth class ships that gets picked on.

That's why they implemented the Mark-II, to better look after herself against all those that see her as an easy target--at least that's how it is in my fanficverse

 

[Cobalt Frost]

Good stuff! Looking forward to the next installment.

 

[Gibraltar]

A wonderful look at the denizens of the Theta Maelstrom and the diplomacy between species in the region. An unconventional battle fought against new foes shows how far Captain Keller is willing to go to safeguard his crew, and his diversionary attack was pretty damn effective!

Meanwhile, you continue with your character-building, giving us more exploration of their backstories and for some, their deepest fears.

Well done!