STAR TREK: KHITOMER
- Thread starter 47
- Start date
Well it looks like I'm behind by at least a chapter, which sounds like me to a T, lol. I'm happy you're still writing the series though 47. 
Well, I have to try to emulate better writers. Chapter 8 was a change of pace, almost the second part of the story, and Chapter 9 and 10 are going to explore one of the several mysteries which will make Khitomer a story infinitely more complex than just a "Federation-Klingons-Romulans against Borg-Dominion-Remus" story ...
Hey, I'm all for deep and complex plotlines. That's where you really get to know the characters and development grows by leaps and bounds. Can't wait...
That's good to hear.
CHAPTER NINE
February 21, 2400
Admiral Lionel Wilkins was definitely not a happy Admiral.
"OK, let’s recapitulate one more time."
Karov and Dvorak were with him in the Conference Room. With them was T'Rul, who had been summoned to this meeting by Wilkins.
"We lost about a hundred and sixty ships, approximately one third of each: Federation, Romulans and Klingons, facing a fleet of four hundred Dominion and Reman warships. Starfleet is left with thirteen ships, among which exactly three battleships: The Hornet, the Samurai and the Yorktown. Is that right?"
Dvorak had never seen Wilkins that discouraged and mad at the same time. As softly as she could she answered:
"Yes, Sir."
"Yes, Sir, she says", Wilkins repeated, walking up and down the room. "As if I was asking you about a weather report. You'll never cease surprising me, Commander."
"We will avenge them", Karov roared.
"With what, Admiral? Is the Klingon Empire going to loan us battleships or are you going to attack the Dominion all by yourselves? No, we're stuck around here for good. Either they will leave us alone, congesting this area of space, or they'll come back as soon as they have decided how to fight that thing."
They all knew what "that thing" was. Or, more accurately, they had no idea any longer …
***
Miral was still quite shocked by what had happened to her the day before.
Not by her mother's heart attack. No, she had been informed around 0300 that B'Elanna had been re-operated and that the thing with a zillion letters in its name that had happened to her was a one-time occurrence, which had been prevented once and for all.
But she couldn't help but wonder how this little human had been able to master her so easily and completely, without any effort on her part.
So today she would find out. She knew that she would find Annie in Holodeck Five, where she would probably be honing her fighting techniques. An ideal occasion to find out what she was really capable of.
"Lieutenant?"
Annie turned around and looked at the young Klingon, who already had taken her tunic off and seemed ready to fight in her regulation tank top.
"Ensign Paris? You want a revenge?"
Annie too was in her tank top, and she had obviously started exercising some time ago.
"You know I must."
"Yes, I know. But before we begin, I should tell you …"
"No stories! We fight!"
Miral jumped on Annie.
***
"Let's start from the very beginning", Wilkins continued, a bit calmer than before. "Commander T'Rul, what do you have to report?"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins. She really had no idea what to answer. She felt a little intimidated too by Wilkins and Karov. Where was Tomalak?
"We were monitoring the subspace transmissions as we always do when we received news of the attack against Khitomer, Admiral. We decided to come back as quickly as we could, but we had calculated that it would take at least two days to arrive, so we were very pessimistic. Then …"
T'Rul looked again at the two men. Samantha was close to her now, as if to reassure her. She continued:
"The Deletham just … accelerated, Sir. She went from high warp to transwarp, just like that, before we could do anything to stop her. When we realized what was happening, I instructed my Chief Engineer to try to find out what was happening, but to let her go until I gave orders to stop. After all, we wanted to go faster."
"I applaud your initiative, Commander", Wilkins said. "Now, how were you able to fight all those ships at the same time?"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins again.
"I just let the Deletham do her thing, Sir."
"Meaning?"
"The Deletham returned to normal space when she arrived to Khitomer, and then started firing on the Dominion fleet, Admiral."
Karov roared:
"Are you trying to make us believe that your ship simply decided to fight the Jem'Hadars?"
T'Rul turned to the huge Klingon.
"That would be one way to describe what happened, Admiral."
***
On Deck Three, McCoy was trying to fight her fatigue. She had spent almost twenty-two hours on her feet, caring for her illustrious patient, leaving the care of the rest of the crew to the very capable, hand picked medical staff she had assembled for the flagship.
B'Elanna was tired too. The heart attack had pumped every bit of energy she had, but more importantly …
"Smile, Colonel! Your last tests are conclusive. You are now on your way to recovery!"
"Recovery to what?"
"Good health, what else?"
"Good health for an old woman who had about five heart attacks in the last week?"
"Six."
"Wonderful! I'm getting Alzheimer now!"
"No, that's not Alzheimer. That's just plain old dementia", McCoy tried to joke.
B'Elanna was not in a laughing mood.
"Can't you just let me die?"
"Nope."
"Damn doctors! You ask for a small favor, and they can't even do it."
"You'll be on your feet in a couple of days, Colonel."
"Yeah, with a pair of canes to support me. No thanks. I'd rather die."
B'Elanna turned away from McCoy.
"Damn Klingons! They break a toenail, and they start bleeding my ears with their damn 'Today is a good day to die' stuff!"
B'Elanna didn't seem to react. But it was true. The blade had not just pierced her physical heart, it had also broken her other heart. She felt so weak, so … old all of a sudden.
McCoy was talking to herself now.
"Post-traumatic depression. Damn! I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist! Besides, those Klingons … Hmm! I guess I'll have to make her angry. And I know exactly who can do that!"
***
Incredible!
Miles O'Brien had been literally stunned. Never had he met anyone as well learned and as easy to understand as the young woman she had interviewed the day before, all night long and until this morning.
Now she was gone to a waste conduit cleaning shift.
Well, talk about waste!
So, after resting a couple of hours, he had gone to Vasik once again. No formalities this time: the "Chief" knew who to look for.
"So, Mister Vasik, I had a very long conversation with Crewman Sorel."
"Yes, Sir."
"You knew about it?"
"Every night, Ensign Paris, Crewman Sorel and I meet to discuss our day, Sir. Ensign Paris is currently on the Samurai, but Crewman Sorel didn't come either. She always comes, even …"
He stopped. O'Brien noticed something was wrong.
"Even what, Ensign?"
"Nothing, Sir."
"It can be a very dangerous thing to lie to a Starfleet Admiral, Mister Vasik."
"I'd rather keep the information for myself, Sir."
"I am giving you a direct order to divulge it now, son."
Vasik looked at the man. No threat was implied, but clearly he would get an answer. It was a direct order. Besides …
"Some people would qualify Yirina's story of rocambolesque, Admiral …"
"They're the best. I'm listening."
***
Both girls were now sweating profusely. They had been fighting for about fifteen minutes, and it was about equal. Both had given, both had received. Now they were both getting their breath back before the next round.
Only Miral knew that something was wrong.
"What's your first name?"
"Annie. Why?"
"Well, Annie, I'm wondering how comes that yesterday, you just took my arm and you practically threw me out, while today we're having an actual fight. You wouldn't be holding back on me, would you?"
"Why? You think I'm too soft on you, girlie girl?"
"You know that would be a mortal insult to my honor, don't you?"
"You want to fight or make small talk with me, girlie girl?"
"Don't call me girlie girl!"
"Why? Because it makes you angry or because it's true?"
"I'm so gonna kick your ass!"
"Keep talking, girlie girl. It seems that's all you're good for!"
"THAT'S IT!"
Miral tore the tank top off her chest and threw it away.
"So you want a real fight now, girlie girl? Give me one second."
Annie took off her own tank top. Now both girls showed several heavy bruises all around their torsos, some already turning to black.
"OK, girlie girl! Get ready to kiss the rug!"
"Are you sure you want to fight her without knowing what she's made of first, Ensign?"
Both stopped and turned around, looking at the third party in the holodeck.
***
"Where is she?"
"She has been carried to Sickbay, Sir!"
"Let me in!"
"I'm sorry, Vedek, but for now we may have to operate!"
"Pohl!"
"Nerys! Have you heard?"
"Let the doctor do what he has to, Pohl. I swear as soon as he can tell us something, he will."
"Come to my bar, Vedek. I'll be the first to know anyway."
"I'm not thirsty, Mister Quark. Kai Onara has …"
"I know. Let Doctor Bashir do what he does best: save her life. I've known him for a long time. He's the best."
"I have no latinum, Mister Quark."
"Go with him, Pohl. Quark wouldn't abuse of such a terrible situation, would you, Quark?"
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous! Come, Vedek."
"Colonel Tahn, where is your investigation?"
Tahn was an old Romulan Colonel. He had spent most of his life in the Tal'Shiar before transferring to Starfleet with the rank of Commander. He was the Chief of Security.
"The bomb was designed to kill in a very small radius, and it was placed in such a way that it couldn't endanger the integrity of the station. Quite a … Federation design, I would say, very civilized. Except I have no idea of its origin."
"It doesn't help much."
"On the contrary, General. It tells us that only the Kai was aimed at, not anyone else, and not the station either. Now who has reasons to wish the death of the Kai?"
"Jaro, of course!"
"Obviously. Maybe a little too obvious."
"Who else?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
***
Wilkins had put his hand on T'Rul's shoulder, which had stopped Karov from sputtering in her face as he was asking constantly more aggravating questions.
"I don't like that description, Commander", Wilkins told T'Rul. "Had the Deletham already demonstrated such … initiative before?"
T'Rul turned around. Wilkins would have sworn the little Romulan had sighed in relief.
"No one liked it, Admiral, that I swear to you. To answer your question, we found that … we were pretty good at aiming the weak points of the Cubes while we were searching for survivors of Admiral Dalton's fleet. We put it all on chance, but now I'm not so sure anymore. We were REALLY good, if you see what I mean …"
"Better than you ever were?"
"Yes, Sir."
Wilkins looked at her. She was obviously a smart woman. Her word could be taken seriously, so was her opinion.
"Commander, was the Deletham your first command?"
"No, Sir! I also commanded the Aehallh and the Hnoiyika before I was put in charge of the Deletham."
"Those ships were prototypes, right? They were in fact two different classes of small warships, just like the Deletham is?"
"You are well informed, Admiral."
"I read your file, T'Rul. Now that makes you an expert in Romulan advanced technologies, since you would not command an experimental ship without knowing what is happening in it, or would you?"
Well, obviously Wilkins had read, not only T'Rul's file, but also the Tal'Shiar evaluation of her.
"Certainly not, Admiral."
"So you know what makes the Deletham tick?"
"No, Admiral."
"But you knew about the Aehallh and the Hnoiyika?"
"Yes, Admiral. But those two had infinitely simpler technologies."
"But you took command of the Deletham?"
"I was practically begged to accept the mission, Sir."
"By whom?"
"Proconsul Tomalak, Sir."
***
"Hello, old woman!"
B'Elanna turned around in her bed and looked at the insolent visitor.
"You?"
"Who else?"
"Who are you calling old, Tomalak?"
"You, obviously."
"Humph!"
"Well, I've been told that you had decided that today was a good day to die! That makes you an old woman, right?"
"Shut up, Green Head!"
"Green Head. Well, they say that the brain is the first thing to die …"
"What the hell?"
"Of course, Wilkins can do without you now. He has your daughter. I suppose that even with a quarter of Klingon blood, she'll be able to survive longer than her quitter of a mother … How old are you, by the way? Fifty-five, right? Strange!"
"What?"
"I am a hundred and forty-nine years old, and you're the one crying that she's tired of living. And I thought I had finally found a worthy Klingon! I should have known …"
"You old fart!"
"Hmm!" he continued as if he hadn't heard, "of course your daughter will be an orphan. But don't worry, I'll take care of her. I'll marry her to one of my great-grandsons, and she'll belong at last to an honorable family."
"You will leave my daughter alone!"
"I'll marry her to Kaol. He's older than you are, but he likes life and he enjoys it to its fullest. I'm sure Miral will be able to give him the children his first three wives couldn't …"
"YOU OLD FART!"
B'Elanna jumped literally out of her bed, in her jacket and nothing else, and started fingering Tomalak's chest while talking.
"You are going to leave my daughter alone! You won't talk to her, you won't touch her, you won't look at her, in fact you will never be in the same room as her, or I swear I tear your ears out and I give them to the most disgusting animal I can find in the galaxy! And you will GET THE HELL OUT of my room, or I'll feed your genitals to the first targ I meet on Qo'noS STILL ATTACHED TO YOUR MISERABLE CARCASS! Is that clear, OLD FART?"
Without a word, Tomalak got out. B'Elanna exploded:
"Now where are my clothes? Or do I have to get out of here naked? You! My clothes NOW!"
The nurse ran out. What she saw left her stunned.
"Nice job, Proconsul."
"That's why you asked me to visit her, didn't you, Doctor?"
"Yes. Thank you very much. You accomplished in a few minutes what would have taken a counselor days to accomplish."
"Counselors! They work with humans, but that woman is more Klingon than I am Romulan!"
***
Miral and Annie had been looking at the young woman. Annie made the presentations.
"Sabrina, this is Ensign Miral Paris, daughter of Colonel Torres. Ensign, Lieutenant Sabrina Watson."
"Lieutenant Watson? From the Chameleon?"
"Not anymore, but yes, for a time I was. At ease, Ensign. So, are you sure that you want to fight her?"
"Why not, Sir?"
"You didn't warn her?" Sabrina said to Annie.
"I tried, but she doesn't listen."
"That's because your uniform is gold. Mine is red. It carries more prestige. Ensign, does the name 'Annie Racicot' remind you of something?"
"No, Sir."
"And if I mention the USS Baltimore, does it help?"
Miral opened her eyes and mouth all wide. She looked at Annie. Oh yes, that she remembered. How could she have forgotten?
"I see it does", Sabrina continued. "You know what they did to her?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And you know that in order to survive, she had to undergo a very peculiar operation, which left her practically invincible and indestructible?"
"And also completely insensitive to all kinds of pain, yes, Sir, I know."
"Her muscles had to be enhanced too, in order to allow her to move. She is incredibly strong. She could kill you."
"With all due respect, Sir, now that I know, she would have to catch me first."
"You still want to fight her?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Hmm! Do you mind if I watch?"
"Do you wish to participate … Sir?"
"You want me to help you?"
"Or her, Sir. It's irrelevant. All I want is a good fight."
"Not this time, Ensign … Miral, right? Call me Sabrina. And call her Annie. One of these days, we'll fight together, just you and me. For now, I'll study your moves."
"As you wish, Sir … Sabrina!"
And as the two girls started fighting again, Sabrina thought:
Sabrina, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship …
***
Julia Chekhov was a very petite woman, but she knew how to assert herself. Herschel had immediately thought of her for this delicate mission. So from the height of her 1.40 meters, she looked at the giant and said quite sternly:
"Mister Watson, you are under arrest by order of Rear Admiral O'Brien. Follow me without resistance and you will not be harmed."
The 2.10-meter giant looked at the little lieutenant, froze in his boots and followed her docilely.
At the same moment, Yirina was summoned by name to Benteen's office.
"Crewman Sorel reporting as requested, Captain. Admiral."
"At ease, crewman. Tell me, why did you let Lieutenant Watson treat you the way he did for so long?"
Yirina looked at Benteen, not knowing exactly what to answer.
"Is it because you felt nobody would listen to you?"
"No, Sir", Yirina whispered.
"Did he threaten you if you complained?"
"No, Sir."
"Were you in fear for your life?"
"Not really, Sir."
"Why then?"
"It's very personal, Captain."
"Not to me, Crewman. Are there other bullies like that on my ship? I want an answer, Miss Sorel!"
"No, Captain. None that I know about, anyway."
"He had accomplices?"
Yirina didn't answer.
"You might as well tell us, because you're transferred anyway."
"Transferred, Sir?"
"To the Samurai, effective immediately. Your personal effects will be transported there. It seems I am losing a hell of an engineer. You're dismissed, Crewman. Admiral."
And Benteen simply left the room, leaving the two alone.
"Well, let's talk, Crewman", O'Brien said simply.
***
Wilkins and T'Rul were still talking. She had explained everything she had understood from the Deletham, which wasn't much.
"So nobody knows what kind of drive that thing is using, but almost everyone is certain that it's not a warp drive. Nobody knows about its phasers, except that they don't have the properties of normal phasers. As for its kind of more or less quasi-photonic cannon, everyone agrees that they don't know shit about what the hell it draws its energy from."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Nobody has the slightest idea how it navigates, what operates its computers, what powers its shields, or even what its shields are doing, except that even the Borg can't hurt it once its shields are activated."
"Yes, Sir."
"And who the hell designed it?"
"They're all dead, Admiral."
"DAMN HELL!"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins. Clearly his anger was not directed at her, and somehow she could understand what the problem was in his mind.
"Damn Romulans! In two years they couldn't backup their damn designs somewhere in one of their damn crypts for the damn Tal'Shiar to keep on one of their damn secret ships!"
"Admiral …"
"NO, Samantha! This time you won't calm me down! Tell me, how long does it take Starfleet to safeguard the design of a new class of ship? Tell the Commander!"
"It's not her fault, Admiral."
"DAMN, I know it's not her fault! But the minute they start THINKING of a new class of ship, Starfleet Engineers start recording their thoughts and documenting them! Romulans are supposed to be so meticulous and they didn't save ANYTHING on a ship that revolutionary?"
He turned to T'Rul.
"Do you really believe that, Commander?"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins, her eyes wide open. He was right. It didn't make sense …
"That's what we were told, Sir."
"But is it plausible?"
"Not the way you're explaining it, Sir."
"Is there any better way to explain it then?"
T'Rul thought quickly.
"No, Sir. You're right. It doesn't make sense."
"So why did they concoct this story?"
"I have no idea, Sir. But whatever it is, it's big."
"Obviously. Sam, find me Tomalak. Commander, stay with us."
February 21, 2400
Admiral Lionel Wilkins was definitely not a happy Admiral.
"OK, let’s recapitulate one more time."
Karov and Dvorak were with him in the Conference Room. With them was T'Rul, who had been summoned to this meeting by Wilkins.
"We lost about a hundred and sixty ships, approximately one third of each: Federation, Romulans and Klingons, facing a fleet of four hundred Dominion and Reman warships. Starfleet is left with thirteen ships, among which exactly three battleships: The Hornet, the Samurai and the Yorktown. Is that right?"
Dvorak had never seen Wilkins that discouraged and mad at the same time. As softly as she could she answered:
"Yes, Sir."
"Yes, Sir, she says", Wilkins repeated, walking up and down the room. "As if I was asking you about a weather report. You'll never cease surprising me, Commander."
"We will avenge them", Karov roared.
"With what, Admiral? Is the Klingon Empire going to loan us battleships or are you going to attack the Dominion all by yourselves? No, we're stuck around here for good. Either they will leave us alone, congesting this area of space, or they'll come back as soon as they have decided how to fight that thing."
They all knew what "that thing" was. Or, more accurately, they had no idea any longer …
***
Miral was still quite shocked by what had happened to her the day before.
Not by her mother's heart attack. No, she had been informed around 0300 that B'Elanna had been re-operated and that the thing with a zillion letters in its name that had happened to her was a one-time occurrence, which had been prevented once and for all.
But she couldn't help but wonder how this little human had been able to master her so easily and completely, without any effort on her part.
So today she would find out. She knew that she would find Annie in Holodeck Five, where she would probably be honing her fighting techniques. An ideal occasion to find out what she was really capable of.
"Lieutenant?"
Annie turned around and looked at the young Klingon, who already had taken her tunic off and seemed ready to fight in her regulation tank top.
"Ensign Paris? You want a revenge?"
Annie too was in her tank top, and she had obviously started exercising some time ago.
"You know I must."
"Yes, I know. But before we begin, I should tell you …"
"No stories! We fight!"
Miral jumped on Annie.
***
"Let's start from the very beginning", Wilkins continued, a bit calmer than before. "Commander T'Rul, what do you have to report?"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins. She really had no idea what to answer. She felt a little intimidated too by Wilkins and Karov. Where was Tomalak?
"We were monitoring the subspace transmissions as we always do when we received news of the attack against Khitomer, Admiral. We decided to come back as quickly as we could, but we had calculated that it would take at least two days to arrive, so we were very pessimistic. Then …"
T'Rul looked again at the two men. Samantha was close to her now, as if to reassure her. She continued:
"The Deletham just … accelerated, Sir. She went from high warp to transwarp, just like that, before we could do anything to stop her. When we realized what was happening, I instructed my Chief Engineer to try to find out what was happening, but to let her go until I gave orders to stop. After all, we wanted to go faster."
"I applaud your initiative, Commander", Wilkins said. "Now, how were you able to fight all those ships at the same time?"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins again.
"I just let the Deletham do her thing, Sir."
"Meaning?"
"The Deletham returned to normal space when she arrived to Khitomer, and then started firing on the Dominion fleet, Admiral."
Karov roared:
"Are you trying to make us believe that your ship simply decided to fight the Jem'Hadars?"
T'Rul turned to the huge Klingon.
"That would be one way to describe what happened, Admiral."
***
On Deck Three, McCoy was trying to fight her fatigue. She had spent almost twenty-two hours on her feet, caring for her illustrious patient, leaving the care of the rest of the crew to the very capable, hand picked medical staff she had assembled for the flagship.
B'Elanna was tired too. The heart attack had pumped every bit of energy she had, but more importantly …
"Smile, Colonel! Your last tests are conclusive. You are now on your way to recovery!"
"Recovery to what?"
"Good health, what else?"
"Good health for an old woman who had about five heart attacks in the last week?"
"Six."
"Wonderful! I'm getting Alzheimer now!"
"No, that's not Alzheimer. That's just plain old dementia", McCoy tried to joke.
B'Elanna was not in a laughing mood.
"Can't you just let me die?"
"Nope."
"Damn doctors! You ask for a small favor, and they can't even do it."
"You'll be on your feet in a couple of days, Colonel."
"Yeah, with a pair of canes to support me. No thanks. I'd rather die."
B'Elanna turned away from McCoy.
"Damn Klingons! They break a toenail, and they start bleeding my ears with their damn 'Today is a good day to die' stuff!"
B'Elanna didn't seem to react. But it was true. The blade had not just pierced her physical heart, it had also broken her other heart. She felt so weak, so … old all of a sudden.
McCoy was talking to herself now.
"Post-traumatic depression. Damn! I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist! Besides, those Klingons … Hmm! I guess I'll have to make her angry. And I know exactly who can do that!"
***
Incredible!
Miles O'Brien had been literally stunned. Never had he met anyone as well learned and as easy to understand as the young woman she had interviewed the day before, all night long and until this morning.
Now she was gone to a waste conduit cleaning shift.
Well, talk about waste!
So, after resting a couple of hours, he had gone to Vasik once again. No formalities this time: the "Chief" knew who to look for.
"So, Mister Vasik, I had a very long conversation with Crewman Sorel."
"Yes, Sir."
"You knew about it?"
"Every night, Ensign Paris, Crewman Sorel and I meet to discuss our day, Sir. Ensign Paris is currently on the Samurai, but Crewman Sorel didn't come either. She always comes, even …"
He stopped. O'Brien noticed something was wrong.
"Even what, Ensign?"
"Nothing, Sir."
"It can be a very dangerous thing to lie to a Starfleet Admiral, Mister Vasik."
"I'd rather keep the information for myself, Sir."
"I am giving you a direct order to divulge it now, son."
Vasik looked at the man. No threat was implied, but clearly he would get an answer. It was a direct order. Besides …
"Some people would qualify Yirina's story of rocambolesque, Admiral …"
"They're the best. I'm listening."
***
Both girls were now sweating profusely. They had been fighting for about fifteen minutes, and it was about equal. Both had given, both had received. Now they were both getting their breath back before the next round.
Only Miral knew that something was wrong.
"What's your first name?"
"Annie. Why?"
"Well, Annie, I'm wondering how comes that yesterday, you just took my arm and you practically threw me out, while today we're having an actual fight. You wouldn't be holding back on me, would you?"
"Why? You think I'm too soft on you, girlie girl?"
"You know that would be a mortal insult to my honor, don't you?"
"You want to fight or make small talk with me, girlie girl?"
"Don't call me girlie girl!"
"Why? Because it makes you angry or because it's true?"
"I'm so gonna kick your ass!"
"Keep talking, girlie girl. It seems that's all you're good for!"
"THAT'S IT!"
Miral tore the tank top off her chest and threw it away.
"So you want a real fight now, girlie girl? Give me one second."
Annie took off her own tank top. Now both girls showed several heavy bruises all around their torsos, some already turning to black.
"OK, girlie girl! Get ready to kiss the rug!"
"Are you sure you want to fight her without knowing what she's made of first, Ensign?"
Both stopped and turned around, looking at the third party in the holodeck.
***
"Where is she?"
"She has been carried to Sickbay, Sir!"
"Let me in!"
"I'm sorry, Vedek, but for now we may have to operate!"
"Pohl!"
"Nerys! Have you heard?"
"Let the doctor do what he has to, Pohl. I swear as soon as he can tell us something, he will."
"Come to my bar, Vedek. I'll be the first to know anyway."
"I'm not thirsty, Mister Quark. Kai Onara has …"
"I know. Let Doctor Bashir do what he does best: save her life. I've known him for a long time. He's the best."
"I have no latinum, Mister Quark."
"Go with him, Pohl. Quark wouldn't abuse of such a terrible situation, would you, Quark?"
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous! Come, Vedek."
"Colonel Tahn, where is your investigation?"
Tahn was an old Romulan Colonel. He had spent most of his life in the Tal'Shiar before transferring to Starfleet with the rank of Commander. He was the Chief of Security.
"The bomb was designed to kill in a very small radius, and it was placed in such a way that it couldn't endanger the integrity of the station. Quite a … Federation design, I would say, very civilized. Except I have no idea of its origin."
"It doesn't help much."
"On the contrary, General. It tells us that only the Kai was aimed at, not anyone else, and not the station either. Now who has reasons to wish the death of the Kai?"
"Jaro, of course!"
"Obviously. Maybe a little too obvious."
"Who else?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
***
Wilkins had put his hand on T'Rul's shoulder, which had stopped Karov from sputtering in her face as he was asking constantly more aggravating questions.
"I don't like that description, Commander", Wilkins told T'Rul. "Had the Deletham already demonstrated such … initiative before?"
T'Rul turned around. Wilkins would have sworn the little Romulan had sighed in relief.
"No one liked it, Admiral, that I swear to you. To answer your question, we found that … we were pretty good at aiming the weak points of the Cubes while we were searching for survivors of Admiral Dalton's fleet. We put it all on chance, but now I'm not so sure anymore. We were REALLY good, if you see what I mean …"
"Better than you ever were?"
"Yes, Sir."
Wilkins looked at her. She was obviously a smart woman. Her word could be taken seriously, so was her opinion.
"Commander, was the Deletham your first command?"
"No, Sir! I also commanded the Aehallh and the Hnoiyika before I was put in charge of the Deletham."
"Those ships were prototypes, right? They were in fact two different classes of small warships, just like the Deletham is?"
"You are well informed, Admiral."
"I read your file, T'Rul. Now that makes you an expert in Romulan advanced technologies, since you would not command an experimental ship without knowing what is happening in it, or would you?"
Well, obviously Wilkins had read, not only T'Rul's file, but also the Tal'Shiar evaluation of her.
"Certainly not, Admiral."
"So you know what makes the Deletham tick?"
"No, Admiral."
"But you knew about the Aehallh and the Hnoiyika?"
"Yes, Admiral. But those two had infinitely simpler technologies."
"But you took command of the Deletham?"
"I was practically begged to accept the mission, Sir."
"By whom?"
"Proconsul Tomalak, Sir."
***
"Hello, old woman!"
B'Elanna turned around in her bed and looked at the insolent visitor.
"You?"
"Who else?"
"Who are you calling old, Tomalak?"
"You, obviously."
"Humph!"
"Well, I've been told that you had decided that today was a good day to die! That makes you an old woman, right?"
"Shut up, Green Head!"
"Green Head. Well, they say that the brain is the first thing to die …"
"What the hell?"
"Of course, Wilkins can do without you now. He has your daughter. I suppose that even with a quarter of Klingon blood, she'll be able to survive longer than her quitter of a mother … How old are you, by the way? Fifty-five, right? Strange!"
"What?"
"I am a hundred and forty-nine years old, and you're the one crying that she's tired of living. And I thought I had finally found a worthy Klingon! I should have known …"
"You old fart!"
"Hmm!" he continued as if he hadn't heard, "of course your daughter will be an orphan. But don't worry, I'll take care of her. I'll marry her to one of my great-grandsons, and she'll belong at last to an honorable family."
"You will leave my daughter alone!"
"I'll marry her to Kaol. He's older than you are, but he likes life and he enjoys it to its fullest. I'm sure Miral will be able to give him the children his first three wives couldn't …"
"YOU OLD FART!"
B'Elanna jumped literally out of her bed, in her jacket and nothing else, and started fingering Tomalak's chest while talking.
"You are going to leave my daughter alone! You won't talk to her, you won't touch her, you won't look at her, in fact you will never be in the same room as her, or I swear I tear your ears out and I give them to the most disgusting animal I can find in the galaxy! And you will GET THE HELL OUT of my room, or I'll feed your genitals to the first targ I meet on Qo'noS STILL ATTACHED TO YOUR MISERABLE CARCASS! Is that clear, OLD FART?"
Without a word, Tomalak got out. B'Elanna exploded:
"Now where are my clothes? Or do I have to get out of here naked? You! My clothes NOW!"
The nurse ran out. What she saw left her stunned.
"Nice job, Proconsul."
"That's why you asked me to visit her, didn't you, Doctor?"
"Yes. Thank you very much. You accomplished in a few minutes what would have taken a counselor days to accomplish."
"Counselors! They work with humans, but that woman is more Klingon than I am Romulan!"
***
Miral and Annie had been looking at the young woman. Annie made the presentations.
"Sabrina, this is Ensign Miral Paris, daughter of Colonel Torres. Ensign, Lieutenant Sabrina Watson."
"Lieutenant Watson? From the Chameleon?"
"Not anymore, but yes, for a time I was. At ease, Ensign. So, are you sure that you want to fight her?"
"Why not, Sir?"
"You didn't warn her?" Sabrina said to Annie.
"I tried, but she doesn't listen."
"That's because your uniform is gold. Mine is red. It carries more prestige. Ensign, does the name 'Annie Racicot' remind you of something?"
"No, Sir."
"And if I mention the USS Baltimore, does it help?"
Miral opened her eyes and mouth all wide. She looked at Annie. Oh yes, that she remembered. How could she have forgotten?
"I see it does", Sabrina continued. "You know what they did to her?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And you know that in order to survive, she had to undergo a very peculiar operation, which left her practically invincible and indestructible?"
"And also completely insensitive to all kinds of pain, yes, Sir, I know."
"Her muscles had to be enhanced too, in order to allow her to move. She is incredibly strong. She could kill you."
"With all due respect, Sir, now that I know, she would have to catch me first."
"You still want to fight her?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Hmm! Do you mind if I watch?"
"Do you wish to participate … Sir?"
"You want me to help you?"
"Or her, Sir. It's irrelevant. All I want is a good fight."
"Not this time, Ensign … Miral, right? Call me Sabrina. And call her Annie. One of these days, we'll fight together, just you and me. For now, I'll study your moves."
"As you wish, Sir … Sabrina!"
And as the two girls started fighting again, Sabrina thought:
Sabrina, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship …
***
Julia Chekhov was a very petite woman, but she knew how to assert herself. Herschel had immediately thought of her for this delicate mission. So from the height of her 1.40 meters, she looked at the giant and said quite sternly:
"Mister Watson, you are under arrest by order of Rear Admiral O'Brien. Follow me without resistance and you will not be harmed."
The 2.10-meter giant looked at the little lieutenant, froze in his boots and followed her docilely.
At the same moment, Yirina was summoned by name to Benteen's office.
"Crewman Sorel reporting as requested, Captain. Admiral."
"At ease, crewman. Tell me, why did you let Lieutenant Watson treat you the way he did for so long?"
Yirina looked at Benteen, not knowing exactly what to answer.
"Is it because you felt nobody would listen to you?"
"No, Sir", Yirina whispered.
"Did he threaten you if you complained?"
"No, Sir."
"Were you in fear for your life?"
"Not really, Sir."
"Why then?"
"It's very personal, Captain."
"Not to me, Crewman. Are there other bullies like that on my ship? I want an answer, Miss Sorel!"
"No, Captain. None that I know about, anyway."
"He had accomplices?"
Yirina didn't answer.
"You might as well tell us, because you're transferred anyway."
"Transferred, Sir?"
"To the Samurai, effective immediately. Your personal effects will be transported there. It seems I am losing a hell of an engineer. You're dismissed, Crewman. Admiral."
And Benteen simply left the room, leaving the two alone.
"Well, let's talk, Crewman", O'Brien said simply.
***
Wilkins and T'Rul were still talking. She had explained everything she had understood from the Deletham, which wasn't much.
"So nobody knows what kind of drive that thing is using, but almost everyone is certain that it's not a warp drive. Nobody knows about its phasers, except that they don't have the properties of normal phasers. As for its kind of more or less quasi-photonic cannon, everyone agrees that they don't know shit about what the hell it draws its energy from."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Nobody has the slightest idea how it navigates, what operates its computers, what powers its shields, or even what its shields are doing, except that even the Borg can't hurt it once its shields are activated."
"Yes, Sir."
"And who the hell designed it?"
"They're all dead, Admiral."
"DAMN HELL!"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins. Clearly his anger was not directed at her, and somehow she could understand what the problem was in his mind.
"Damn Romulans! In two years they couldn't backup their damn designs somewhere in one of their damn crypts for the damn Tal'Shiar to keep on one of their damn secret ships!"
"Admiral …"
"NO, Samantha! This time you won't calm me down! Tell me, how long does it take Starfleet to safeguard the design of a new class of ship? Tell the Commander!"
"It's not her fault, Admiral."
"DAMN, I know it's not her fault! But the minute they start THINKING of a new class of ship, Starfleet Engineers start recording their thoughts and documenting them! Romulans are supposed to be so meticulous and they didn't save ANYTHING on a ship that revolutionary?"
He turned to T'Rul.
"Do you really believe that, Commander?"
T'Rul looked at Wilkins, her eyes wide open. He was right. It didn't make sense …
"That's what we were told, Sir."
"But is it plausible?"
"Not the way you're explaining it, Sir."
"Is there any better way to explain it then?"
T'Rul thought quickly.
"No, Sir. You're right. It doesn't make sense."
"So why did they concoct this story?"
"I have no idea, Sir. But whatever it is, it's big."
"Obviously. Sam, find me Tomalak. Commander, stay with us."
Yes, quite good, lots of great character interaction. Torres retains much of her old fire, I wondered if she was going to slug Tomalak for a moment there. Looking forward to more!
The ideas are finally starting to come back.
Chapter 10 should contain among other things a revelation about the Deletham, a visit to a convict, a VERY HOT girl-on-girl kiss, and the Return of the Jedi ... er, of a dead character.
Other things too, probably, like further interaction between B'Elanna and her Romulan admirer.
Chapter 10 should contain among other things a revelation about the Deletham, a visit to a convict, a VERY HOT girl-on-girl kiss, and the Return of the Jedi ... er, of a dead character.
Other things too, probably, like further interaction between B'Elanna and her Romulan admirer.
Or else, CNG(Crazy Naked Girl) might attack soon 
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