Star Trek Hunter
Episode 9:
The Library
Scene 5:
Section 31
With all the senior officers in endless briefings about the virus and the medical, engineering and ground operations departments pulling double shifts grappling with the organic and computer-borne aspects of the virus as well as its conspiratorial criminal origin, Ensign Ethan Phillips was the ranking officer available to stand watch on the bridge. The captain’s chair was not his favorite place, but he had sat in it often enough.
Since the U.S.S. Atul Goel had been destroyed, the B.W.S.V. Vyvya, B.W.S.V. Malinia and the U.S.S. Hunter were returning to the Paleonus system. Another ship approached at high warp, then matched speeds with the small group of ships traveling at warp 5.
Navigator Johanna Imex was at the tactical station behind the captain’s chair. “We’re being hailed, sir.”
“Put them through, Johanna,” Phillips said.
The face that appeared on the screen was well known throughout Star Fleet. “Hunter, this is the U.S.S. Enterprise, Will Riker commanding. We have a request for Justice Irons to come on board.”
“Enterprise, this is the U.S.S. Hunter, Ethan Phillips commanding. Please standby…”
Riker pointedly drummed his fingers on the arm of the captain’s chair on the bridge of the Enterprise.
Ensign Phillips turned around and whispered sharply to Navigator Imex, “Get her before he starts whistling…”
At that moment, Riker started whistling tunelessly.
“She’s on the pad,” Imex said.
Phillips rolled his eyes and said, “Too late…” then turned back to the screen. “She is on the pad awaiting transport, sir.”
“Thank you,” Riker said with a look of mingled exasperation and boredom, and promptly ended transmission.
On the bridge of the Enterprise, the moment he cut transmission, Will Riker leapt out of the captain’s chair, said, “You have the con,” to no one in particular, and sprinted off the bridge. This left two second lieutenants as the senior officers on the bridge of the Enterprise. Not sure which of them had actually been assigned command, they looked at each other, shrugged, and commenced playing “phaser, deflector, commerce” (a 25th Century derivative of “rock, paper, scissors.”) One lieutenant put his hand forward, palm down, fingers forward in imitation of a phaser rifle. The other put her hand up, fingers splayed. “Deflector blocks phaser,” she said, and took the chair.
By the time he reached the transporter room, Riker had slowed considerably. At 60 he was still spry enough to leap out of chairs and sprint - but for every such action there was always a consequence and the aches came sooner these days. He managed to smooth a slight limp out of his gait and steady his breathing before striding confidently into the transporter room just as Justice Irons was materializing on the pad.
“Welcome to the Enterprise, your honor,” Riker said with his customary suave warmth.
“Oh Will, you can call me Minerva,” Irons said.
“I wouldn’t want to presume…”
Irons briskly stepped up to Riker, took his bearded jaw in her hand and inspected his face as though he were a specimen in a jar. “What are you? And what have you done with Will Riker?”
Riker laughed easily as she released him. He stepped to the door. “If you’ll follow me, please…”
“And you don’t have to suck that gut in,” Irons continued as they exited the transporter room, rapping his belly lightly with the back of her hand.
Riker held his breath and squeaked, “Who, me? I would never…” then exhaled loudly, sucked in a deep breath and held it again, earning an easy laugh from Irons.
“So which one is this?”
“Your honor?
“Minerva.”
“Minerva?”
“Which Enterprise?”
“NCC 1701 F. I’ve only crashed two of them…”
“The Paleonus system has an asteroid belt, if you feel the need to go for three,” Irons observed, earning a snort from Riker. “Well, now I can say I have walked on the decks of every lettered 1701. The A was a museum. I trained on the B and served on the C, briefly.”
Riker stopped. “It’s been 38 years,” he said, “and you haven’t aged a moment. Thank you for reminding me that you’re immortal.”
Irons put her hand on Riker’s chest. “Will, you are more beautiful today than you were 38 years ago. The man has grown into the looks.
Riker broke into one of his 10,000 watt smiles, lighting up the entire hallway.
“I take it this is the door?” Irons asked.
“I don’t even know who is on the other side,” Riker responded, his expression becoming serious.
Irons removed her hand from Riker’s chest. “Old times,” she said, then took a breath. “I suppose I’d better find out. I will find you before I disembark.”
“Do that,” Riker said, flashed another smile, then turned and left.
Justice Irons waited until Riker had rounded the corridor, leaving her alone in the hallway, then touched the door chime.
The door opened. The stateroom was dark. A shadowy, hooded figure lurked inside. Irons entered the room. When the door closed, a personal deflector shield was activated, insulating most of the room.
“Justice Irons.” the voice was electronically modulated. Even without attempting to use her very limited telepathic abilities, Irons could feel a cold well, as though the individual in the back of the room were a blank place in thought space that telepathy could not locate.
“This message comes from the mouth. Hear. Fleet Admiral Scumuk’s notes have been located. He kept all his notes by his own calligraphy, in his own personally developed cyphers and never entered them into any computer. Over the years he has consistently sent his handwritten notes to be archived at the Sanctuary of the Waterbirds on Cophus II. All of his notes are cyphered. Those cyphers are known to his archivists - all except for the most recent. The admiral changed his cypher about 8 months ago. You have, on your crew, two experts in vulcan cyphers. The admiral’s work must not fall into the wrong hands. No copies may be made of his original writings, nor may they be transmitted in any way. Paper, viewed by eyes only. The admiral made a pivotal discovery. This discovery must be followed back to its source and its potential impact on the security of the Federation evaluated. Action may be needed. Let no boundaries stand in your way. This message comes from the mouth. You are the hand.”
The deflector screen came down. The shadowy figure was no longer in the room. Justice Irons was terribly confused to find herself laying on a couch in the quarters she had thought only a moment ago she had been standing in, her brain foggy with sleep. She did not remember laying down. Without a word, she rose and exited. As she wandered the halls of the Enterprise more or less aimlessly, she mulled over what she had heard. “From the mouth” - a Section 31 code phrase used to verify that an order was being passed from the top of the organization.
The Federation Charter had 30 sections. Putatively, a secret 31st section had been written directly into the Federation Charter, creating a secret organization authorized to use any means necessary to protect and preserve the Federation. Less than half of the very few officers in Star Fleet who had ever heard of Section 31 believed this shadowy organization, or the secret codicil for which it was named, actually existed. Irons was one of only four people who knew who the Director of Section 31 was. She had helped recruit him.
And now she had just received an order from him.
