STAR TREK: KHITOMER
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
June 24, 2400
Teroth was perplexed.
"I will need facts before I accept any of those hypotheses as true, Lieutenant."
"So will I, Captain."
"What do your guts tell you?"
"My guts … Oh, you mean take a guess."
"Yes, Lieutenant. What seems the most probable answer to our little conundrum?"
"Without in any way stating this as a definitive answer, I am under the impression that we may have been diverted somewhere else, Captain."
"Vulcans! Always a lot of unnecessarily long words to simply state that we are probably lost. Do you require help to give me a final answer, T'Shiya?"
T'Shiya noticed that for once, Teroth was using her name instead of her rank to address her. She saw it as a sign of warmth.
"I believe the proper way to address this particular predicament would be …"
She stopped, looked at Teroth, saw her exasperation coming back.
"No, Captain. I just need to find where we are."
Teroth smiled — almost.
"Make it so then, Lieutenant."
***
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Sabrina was again looking at Sisko. Oh yeah, it hurt. The countless bites of the cat o' nine tails were still bleeding, since she was still hanging in the air — rather in the ice cold vacuum now —, the sand pellets were still incrusted in her bare flesh, her wrists hurt, and she was expecting a new torture to begin anytime now.
"It couldn't be avoided."
Fine, fine, she deserved some discipline. She had been a bad girl in a former life or something.
"No, that's not it. It's to prepare you for your task. You have to know."
Know what, damn it? She so wanted to ask him, she had so many questions …
"You will find out soon."
Was he answering her questions as she was thinking them? Try this one then, Captain!
"No, thank you. You are a beautiful young woman, but I intend to remain faithful to my wife until such time when we are finally reunited."
What? Reunited? When?
"Soon now. But you, my child, your trials are far from over. What you are enduring today is nothing compared to what awaits you. But you need to understand."
Understand WHAT?
"What was."
Huh?
"You need more time. Unfortunately, I cannot help you more, and your trial cannot end until you are ready."
But WHY, damn it? WHY?
"Your question has been answered."
And as Sabrina was looking angrily at Sisko …
***
Wilkins was in awe. So were most of the people looking at her.
So many had heard about her. Most had seen one or two of her little sisters, but never that one, the only survivor of her line.
There were smiles on all faces. Heck, even Tomalak was smiling. He knew what this meant for the morale of the troops.
Yep, that was her. The Legend. The good old Enterprise. The Enterprise-A, to be precise, but nobody cared about no bloody A, B, C, D or E today. The Enterprise had arrived. The least of their ships had ten times the firepower of an old Constitution-Class ship, but it didn't matter.
The Enterprise had joined the fight.
"I told you I brought you Engineering cadets, Mister Wilkins. Do you know what they did to her?"
"No, but I have a feeling that I'm going to learn all about it."
"Do you know the recommended speeds for a Constitution ship?"
"B'Elanna?"
"Cruise 5, maximum 5.8, maximum rated 7.2 for four hours," B'Elanna answered instantly."
"That's right, young lady. And do you know what she can do now?"
"I have no idea … Warp 7.5?"
"Better than that, young lady. Warp 9.75. Three times the former maximum rated speed, and about indefinitely. They also made her sturdier, they made her faster, they even adapted four transphasic torpedo launchers to her. She's not a big battleship, but she's got teeth!"
"So she could fight?" Wilkins asked.
"She has a full complement of officers and crew too. All she needs is a seasoned team of commanding officers, and she's ready to go."
"I can't spare commanding officers."
"You know that's not true, Mister Wilkins."
"I had to put simple Lieutenants in charge of some ships already. I can't afford …"
"I'll tell you what you can't afford, Mister Wilkins. You can't afford to lose yourself in this war, yet that's what you're doing right now!"
"What do you mean?"
"Look at yourself! You're a bureaucrat! Starfleet doesn't need bureaucrats right now! Starfleet needs men and women of action, Starfleet needs action, and through action only will you save the Federation!"
Wilkins looked at Boothby. What the old man was telling him now he had felt in his blood many times. But he couldn't afford to just take a ship and go willy-nilly exploring his surroundings. Of course when he was young he admired men like Kirk, who didn't waste time weighing and re-weighing facts endlessly. They took a decision, based on their knowledge, their experience and their guts and, once taken, stuck with it for better or for worse. But now …
That was the Enterprise there. His ship.
He looked at B'Elanna. She was older than him, yet she looked younger, and in her eyes was the petulance of the young exuberant woman she must have been when she was at Starfleet Academy. She was his, and he was hers. They were promised to each other. And in her eyes was now the fire he seemed to have lost. But how …
He looked at Karov. Many times the Klingon had seemed ready to jump at his throat and beat the crap out of him, because his blood was boiling in his veins, he wanted action, and Wilkins didn't dare. Karov's look was inquisitive, a mixture of "What the hell are you waiting for?" and "Are you a Romulan or a Klingon?"
He looked at Tomalak. The old Romulan was smiling, his whole attitude said "Jump!" Tomalak was more a man of action than he was now. He had practically given her life back to B'Elanna, and has so many times given him good advice that he had failed to follow, always for that damn same reason: he couldn't afford to take risks. He couldn't afford to …
He looked at B'Elanna again.
"They'll need an experienced engineer."
"As long as the young crawl through the Jefferies tubes …"
***
Aboard the Deletham, Kelly Ripa had tried to understand what was obviously a vision sent to her by the Prophets. But four days later, she was still not sure of its meaning.
Yet it seemed simple. Segura joining her under the shower and starting to kiss her passionately could mean an attempt from Cardassians to join Bajorans in peace. Except there seemed to be very few Cardassians left, and peace was already a fait accompli before the Borg assimilation.
So it had to mean something else.
And what was the meaning of the Emissary savagely killing Segura? Did it mean that the Prophets wanted the Bajorans to reject any attempt to approach them by the Cardassians?
Or …
***
… the scenery changed again. Sabrina was now surrounded by flames slowly scorching her flesh. This new torture was unbearable. But she still couldn't scream, and just as the intense cold hadn't frozen her throbbing, aching body, the flames now didn't seem to leave marks, just the agonizing torture of the fire burning her.
She tried to understand, but the pain was too much, and yet she wouldn't lose consciousness. She knew that now. She would have to endure it all, awake and powerless.
And then, out of the flames he came. Just as before, in his uniform, apparently mad as hell, he came to Sabrina and, without a word, plunged his serrated blade deep in her belly and started turning it around in the wound.
June 24, 2400
Teroth was perplexed.
"I will need facts before I accept any of those hypotheses as true, Lieutenant."
"So will I, Captain."
"What do your guts tell you?"
"My guts … Oh, you mean take a guess."
"Yes, Lieutenant. What seems the most probable answer to our little conundrum?"
"Without in any way stating this as a definitive answer, I am under the impression that we may have been diverted somewhere else, Captain."
"Vulcans! Always a lot of unnecessarily long words to simply state that we are probably lost. Do you require help to give me a final answer, T'Shiya?"
T'Shiya noticed that for once, Teroth was using her name instead of her rank to address her. She saw it as a sign of warmth.
"I believe the proper way to address this particular predicament would be …"
She stopped, looked at Teroth, saw her exasperation coming back.
"No, Captain. I just need to find where we are."
Teroth smiled — almost.
"Make it so then, Lieutenant."
***
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Sabrina was again looking at Sisko. Oh yeah, it hurt. The countless bites of the cat o' nine tails were still bleeding, since she was still hanging in the air — rather in the ice cold vacuum now —, the sand pellets were still incrusted in her bare flesh, her wrists hurt, and she was expecting a new torture to begin anytime now.
"It couldn't be avoided."
Fine, fine, she deserved some discipline. She had been a bad girl in a former life or something.
"No, that's not it. It's to prepare you for your task. You have to know."
Know what, damn it? She so wanted to ask him, she had so many questions …
"You will find out soon."
Was he answering her questions as she was thinking them? Try this one then, Captain!
"No, thank you. You are a beautiful young woman, but I intend to remain faithful to my wife until such time when we are finally reunited."
What? Reunited? When?
"Soon now. But you, my child, your trials are far from over. What you are enduring today is nothing compared to what awaits you. But you need to understand."
Understand WHAT?
"What was."
Huh?
"You need more time. Unfortunately, I cannot help you more, and your trial cannot end until you are ready."
But WHY, damn it? WHY?
"Your question has been answered."
And as Sabrina was looking angrily at Sisko …
***
Wilkins was in awe. So were most of the people looking at her.
So many had heard about her. Most had seen one or two of her little sisters, but never that one, the only survivor of her line.
There were smiles on all faces. Heck, even Tomalak was smiling. He knew what this meant for the morale of the troops.
Yep, that was her. The Legend. The good old Enterprise. The Enterprise-A, to be precise, but nobody cared about no bloody A, B, C, D or E today. The Enterprise had arrived. The least of their ships had ten times the firepower of an old Constitution-Class ship, but it didn't matter.
The Enterprise had joined the fight.
"I told you I brought you Engineering cadets, Mister Wilkins. Do you know what they did to her?"
"No, but I have a feeling that I'm going to learn all about it."
"Do you know the recommended speeds for a Constitution ship?"
"B'Elanna?"
"Cruise 5, maximum 5.8, maximum rated 7.2 for four hours," B'Elanna answered instantly."
"That's right, young lady. And do you know what she can do now?"
"I have no idea … Warp 7.5?"
"Better than that, young lady. Warp 9.75. Three times the former maximum rated speed, and about indefinitely. They also made her sturdier, they made her faster, they even adapted four transphasic torpedo launchers to her. She's not a big battleship, but she's got teeth!"
"So she could fight?" Wilkins asked.
"She has a full complement of officers and crew too. All she needs is a seasoned team of commanding officers, and she's ready to go."
"I can't spare commanding officers."
"You know that's not true, Mister Wilkins."
"I had to put simple Lieutenants in charge of some ships already. I can't afford …"
"I'll tell you what you can't afford, Mister Wilkins. You can't afford to lose yourself in this war, yet that's what you're doing right now!"
"What do you mean?"
"Look at yourself! You're a bureaucrat! Starfleet doesn't need bureaucrats right now! Starfleet needs men and women of action, Starfleet needs action, and through action only will you save the Federation!"
Wilkins looked at Boothby. What the old man was telling him now he had felt in his blood many times. But he couldn't afford to just take a ship and go willy-nilly exploring his surroundings. Of course when he was young he admired men like Kirk, who didn't waste time weighing and re-weighing facts endlessly. They took a decision, based on their knowledge, their experience and their guts and, once taken, stuck with it for better or for worse. But now …
That was the Enterprise there. His ship.
He looked at B'Elanna. She was older than him, yet she looked younger, and in her eyes was the petulance of the young exuberant woman she must have been when she was at Starfleet Academy. She was his, and he was hers. They were promised to each other. And in her eyes was now the fire he seemed to have lost. But how …
He looked at Karov. Many times the Klingon had seemed ready to jump at his throat and beat the crap out of him, because his blood was boiling in his veins, he wanted action, and Wilkins didn't dare. Karov's look was inquisitive, a mixture of "What the hell are you waiting for?" and "Are you a Romulan or a Klingon?"
He looked at Tomalak. The old Romulan was smiling, his whole attitude said "Jump!" Tomalak was more a man of action than he was now. He had practically given her life back to B'Elanna, and has so many times given him good advice that he had failed to follow, always for that damn same reason: he couldn't afford to take risks. He couldn't afford to …
He looked at B'Elanna again.
"They'll need an experienced engineer."
"As long as the young crawl through the Jefferies tubes …"
***
Aboard the Deletham, Kelly Ripa had tried to understand what was obviously a vision sent to her by the Prophets. But four days later, she was still not sure of its meaning.
Yet it seemed simple. Segura joining her under the shower and starting to kiss her passionately could mean an attempt from Cardassians to join Bajorans in peace. Except there seemed to be very few Cardassians left, and peace was already a fait accompli before the Borg assimilation.
So it had to mean something else.
And what was the meaning of the Emissary savagely killing Segura? Did it mean that the Prophets wanted the Bajorans to reject any attempt to approach them by the Cardassians?
Or …
***
… the scenery changed again. Sabrina was now surrounded by flames slowly scorching her flesh. This new torture was unbearable. But she still couldn't scream, and just as the intense cold hadn't frozen her throbbing, aching body, the flames now didn't seem to leave marks, just the agonizing torture of the fire burning her.
She tried to understand, but the pain was too much, and yet she wouldn't lose consciousness. She knew that now. She would have to endure it all, awake and powerless.
And then, out of the flames he came. Just as before, in his uniform, apparently mad as hell, he came to Sabrina and, without a word, plunged his serrated blade deep in her belly and started turning it around in the wound.
CHAPTER TWENTY
June 24, 2400
The door opened. The cadet stepped forward, then aside. The metallic boatswain's pipe three-note call announced his arrival.
"Captain on the Bridge!" he announced.
Wilkins looked at the boy and, without a word, came in. Everyone stood up at attention.
My god, those are children! I bet not one of those is above twenty. What the hell am I thinking, taking command of a ship almost as old as Boothby himself, and risking the lives of all those so young people?
The one who had been sitting in the Captain's chair came to him.
"Acting Science Officer Rebecca Faris, relinquishing command to you, Sir!"
"Thank you, Lieutenant. This is Admiral B'Elanna Torres, and I believe you know Mister Boothby."
"Yes, Sir. I'll be at my station, Sir."
"At ease, everyone, this is not a prison ship. This is the Enterprise."
He went to the chair and sat down. B'Elanna made a gesture, and everyone left the Bridge in silence. They already knew what was going to happen there.
***
For the fifth time, Dukat had plunged his serrated, 25-centimeter long, 8-centimeter wide blade deep into Sabrina's belly and turned it around inside her, pushing in, pulling out, tearing her flesh even more, as her blood was now gushing out. The pain was worse than even the flames still burning her, and she still couldn't utter a sound, and she remained desperately conscious.
Finally the mad Cardassian stopped to admire his work.
"So that's not enough, huh?" he screamed at her. "You still won't scream for mercy? You know you won't die until you do, don't you? I won't let you die until you beg for mercy!"
Sabrina's tears were rolling freely out of her eyes. Her head was down, she tried desperately to think, but the sum of all the pains she was enduring: the bleeding whip lacerations, the incrusted sand pellets, the bones broken by the locusts, the flames devouring her, and finally the stabbing wounds letting her blood flow from her belly, all that stopped her from thinking straight. And yet she knew now that all this she was enduring had a meaning, from the chess game to her being barbecued in the Fire Caves.
But now Dukat was on her again, holding her by the hair and forcing her to look into his blood-injected eyes.
"Do you think I'm tired? You think I'm getting tired? You're the one who will crack! You'll crack! You'll cry and beg! You'll scream! Oh, yeah, you'll scream, you big, fat, ugly cow! You'll scream!"
So that's what he wants. He wants me to scream. Well, you won't get it, you pathetic worm! Never! Even if I could, I would remain silent, just to deny you your pleasure!
Sabrina gave him the most defiant look she could muster, throwing her chest out at her tormentor.
Dukat's expression changed. It was not madness anymore, it was not rage, it was pure, absolute, unadulterated hate.
"You think the knife was the worse I could do? That was foreplay."
***
After three hours, B'Elanna, a bit curious, went back alone to the Bridge of the Enterprise.
"Leo?"
Wilkins was still looking straight in front of him, to the screen. He was lost in his thoughts. B'Elanna came closer and touched his shoulder.
"Leo?"
Wilkins jerked a little and looked at her.
"Am I disturbing you?"
He looked at her again and smiled.
"Boothby was right, you know. This ship does have a soul. Kirk’s."
"Really?"
"Yeah. This is not just a ship. This is the Enterprise, the only one to reach today in one piece. All the others have been destroyed one way or another. She has pulled through time to bring us a testimony."
"Testimony to what?"
"She was not built for battle, B'Elanna. She was not built for diplomacy either. In those times, those ships were built 'to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before.' That was Kirk's mission. That was Starfleet. We have forgotten all that. It's time we start remembering it."
"After the war maybe?"
"No. Now. Of course we'll have to wage war, but it's not our objective. Starfleet has become a military organization, and I don't want that. Starfleet must become again what it was, the kind Kirk signed for … the kind I signed for … the kind this ship was built for …"
"But Starfleet could have battleships too."
"I know. We can't survive without battleships. It took us long enough to understand that, but when we did, we forgot all about our true mission. I want to get back to it."
***
Dukat had now changed weapons. This one was a Jem'Hadar kar'takin, a weapon with a 50-centimeter razor blade on its length and a stabbing point.
With the razor side, he slowly, deliberately opened Sabrina's left breast right under the nipple. She bit her lips and looked at him as disdainfully as she could muster.
At the same instant, she felt a powerful blow to her right kidney. Then her left. The pain was atrocious, but she took it in stride. Looking on her sides, as they hit her again, were two Jem'Hadar soldiers. They punched her again and again, and she felt herself starting to piss blood.
"You're alone now, little girl. No one will ever come to your help, and I will do with you as I please. And I'll let you live … forever if I want to. We will never let you go, and we will never let you forget that we are your masters."
He cut Sabrina again, this time on her left cheek. Then he put the stabbing point right under her left eye.
"What if I popped them out, huh? Maybe you would finally forget your pride, half-breed?"
Sabrina clenched her teeth and looked at him, right in his eyes. She would not show any fear any longer, she would never give him the satisfaction of flinching again.
***
The crew was back on the Bridge. B'Elanna was at Wilkins' side for now, but soon she would leave to take charge of Engineering. On the other side was Boothby.
"Ready, son?" the old man asked him.
"As ready as I will ever be. Aft thrusters, helm."
"Aft thrusters, Captain."
The white ship started gliding majestically.
"Ahead one quarter impulse power."
"Ahead one quarter impulse power."
The Enterprise cleared the dock where it had been loaded with ammunitions and supplies for a long trip.
"We are clear and free to navigate."
"Go to impulse, helm. Take the best heading to leave the system, then let's set our heading to the Bajoran sector."
"Heading computed and set, Captain."
Wilkins was getting ready to fulfill the dreams of all his youth. He made a pause then just said, as emotionlessly as he could, but without fooling Boothby or B'Elanna:
"Engage."
***
Dukat was getting ready to blind and julienne Sabrina, she knew it. But she wouldn't blink now even if the flames started to cook her eyes. He brandished his weapon and …
… the scenery changed again.
She was back in the meadow where all had started. No table though, no chairs, no chess set. No Sisko, no Dukat, just the hooded monk she had noticed in the cell.
"Do you understand?"
"I'm not sure", she answered, all surprised that she could talk again.
"I will help you one last time."
The monk came closer. He had a cup in his hand.
"Drink."
It looked and smelled like white wine. Sabrina dipped her lips in the cup, tasted it, then slowly, as the monk held the cup, drank the wine.
"Spring wine."
As the monk finished talking, Sabrina felt violent spasms in her belly. The new pain was worse than everything else she had endured. In a hiccup she started vomiting flows of blood …
June 24, 2400
The door opened. The cadet stepped forward, then aside. The metallic boatswain's pipe three-note call announced his arrival.
"Captain on the Bridge!" he announced.
Wilkins looked at the boy and, without a word, came in. Everyone stood up at attention.
My god, those are children! I bet not one of those is above twenty. What the hell am I thinking, taking command of a ship almost as old as Boothby himself, and risking the lives of all those so young people?
The one who had been sitting in the Captain's chair came to him.
"Acting Science Officer Rebecca Faris, relinquishing command to you, Sir!"
"Thank you, Lieutenant. This is Admiral B'Elanna Torres, and I believe you know Mister Boothby."
"Yes, Sir. I'll be at my station, Sir."
"At ease, everyone, this is not a prison ship. This is the Enterprise."
He went to the chair and sat down. B'Elanna made a gesture, and everyone left the Bridge in silence. They already knew what was going to happen there.
***
For the fifth time, Dukat had plunged his serrated, 25-centimeter long, 8-centimeter wide blade deep into Sabrina's belly and turned it around inside her, pushing in, pulling out, tearing her flesh even more, as her blood was now gushing out. The pain was worse than even the flames still burning her, and she still couldn't utter a sound, and she remained desperately conscious.
Finally the mad Cardassian stopped to admire his work.
"So that's not enough, huh?" he screamed at her. "You still won't scream for mercy? You know you won't die until you do, don't you? I won't let you die until you beg for mercy!"
Sabrina's tears were rolling freely out of her eyes. Her head was down, she tried desperately to think, but the sum of all the pains she was enduring: the bleeding whip lacerations, the incrusted sand pellets, the bones broken by the locusts, the flames devouring her, and finally the stabbing wounds letting her blood flow from her belly, all that stopped her from thinking straight. And yet she knew now that all this she was enduring had a meaning, from the chess game to her being barbecued in the Fire Caves.
But now Dukat was on her again, holding her by the hair and forcing her to look into his blood-injected eyes.
"Do you think I'm tired? You think I'm getting tired? You're the one who will crack! You'll crack! You'll cry and beg! You'll scream! Oh, yeah, you'll scream, you big, fat, ugly cow! You'll scream!"
So that's what he wants. He wants me to scream. Well, you won't get it, you pathetic worm! Never! Even if I could, I would remain silent, just to deny you your pleasure!
Sabrina gave him the most defiant look she could muster, throwing her chest out at her tormentor.
Dukat's expression changed. It was not madness anymore, it was not rage, it was pure, absolute, unadulterated hate.
"You think the knife was the worse I could do? That was foreplay."
***
After three hours, B'Elanna, a bit curious, went back alone to the Bridge of the Enterprise.
"Leo?"
Wilkins was still looking straight in front of him, to the screen. He was lost in his thoughts. B'Elanna came closer and touched his shoulder.
"Leo?"
Wilkins jerked a little and looked at her.
"Am I disturbing you?"
He looked at her again and smiled.
"Boothby was right, you know. This ship does have a soul. Kirk’s."
"Really?"
"Yeah. This is not just a ship. This is the Enterprise, the only one to reach today in one piece. All the others have been destroyed one way or another. She has pulled through time to bring us a testimony."
"Testimony to what?"
"She was not built for battle, B'Elanna. She was not built for diplomacy either. In those times, those ships were built 'to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before.' That was Kirk's mission. That was Starfleet. We have forgotten all that. It's time we start remembering it."
"After the war maybe?"
"No. Now. Of course we'll have to wage war, but it's not our objective. Starfleet has become a military organization, and I don't want that. Starfleet must become again what it was, the kind Kirk signed for … the kind I signed for … the kind this ship was built for …"
"But Starfleet could have battleships too."
"I know. We can't survive without battleships. It took us long enough to understand that, but when we did, we forgot all about our true mission. I want to get back to it."
***
Dukat had now changed weapons. This one was a Jem'Hadar kar'takin, a weapon with a 50-centimeter razor blade on its length and a stabbing point.
With the razor side, he slowly, deliberately opened Sabrina's left breast right under the nipple. She bit her lips and looked at him as disdainfully as she could muster.
At the same instant, she felt a powerful blow to her right kidney. Then her left. The pain was atrocious, but she took it in stride. Looking on her sides, as they hit her again, were two Jem'Hadar soldiers. They punched her again and again, and she felt herself starting to piss blood.
"You're alone now, little girl. No one will ever come to your help, and I will do with you as I please. And I'll let you live … forever if I want to. We will never let you go, and we will never let you forget that we are your masters."
He cut Sabrina again, this time on her left cheek. Then he put the stabbing point right under her left eye.
"What if I popped them out, huh? Maybe you would finally forget your pride, half-breed?"
Sabrina clenched her teeth and looked at him, right in his eyes. She would not show any fear any longer, she would never give him the satisfaction of flinching again.
***
The crew was back on the Bridge. B'Elanna was at Wilkins' side for now, but soon she would leave to take charge of Engineering. On the other side was Boothby.
"Ready, son?" the old man asked him.
"As ready as I will ever be. Aft thrusters, helm."
"Aft thrusters, Captain."
The white ship started gliding majestically.
"Ahead one quarter impulse power."
"Ahead one quarter impulse power."
The Enterprise cleared the dock where it had been loaded with ammunitions and supplies for a long trip.
"We are clear and free to navigate."
"Go to impulse, helm. Take the best heading to leave the system, then let's set our heading to the Bajoran sector."
"Heading computed and set, Captain."
Wilkins was getting ready to fulfill the dreams of all his youth. He made a pause then just said, as emotionlessly as he could, but without fooling Boothby or B'Elanna:
"Engage."
***
Dukat was getting ready to blind and julienne Sabrina, she knew it. But she wouldn't blink now even if the flames started to cook her eyes. He brandished his weapon and …
… the scenery changed again.
She was back in the meadow where all had started. No table though, no chairs, no chess set. No Sisko, no Dukat, just the hooded monk she had noticed in the cell.
"Do you understand?"
"I'm not sure", she answered, all surprised that she could talk again.
"I will help you one last time."
The monk came closer. He had a cup in his hand.
"Drink."
It looked and smelled like white wine. Sabrina dipped her lips in the cup, tasted it, then slowly, as the monk held the cup, drank the wine.
"Spring wine."
As the monk finished talking, Sabrina felt violent spasms in her belly. The new pain was worse than everything else she had endured. In a hiccup she started vomiting flows of blood …
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
June 24, 2400
When the hiccup and vomiting finally stopped, and Sabrina felt like she had nothing left in her body, the scenery changed again, and she found herself in the vacuum of space, watching as the Chameleon was entering a wormhole looking so similar to the Bajoran one …
She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her throat. Besides, how would they have heard? So they were leaving her. She was alone now in that forsaken place, at the mercy of her tormentors …
And the damn scenery was changing again.
***
July 24, 2400
“Where the HELL is she?”
Annie was so mad and scared at the same time, she had turned the Chameleon over, piece by piece, to try to find her friend and lover. But it had been for nothing.
Varel, who had assumed command after the second day of unfruitful searches, looked at her again.
“Lieutenant, it is useless to scream and hit my desk with your fist. The Captain is not lost, she is gone. That is very different.”
“What?” Annie asked incredulously.
“I have been meditating on the situation for quite some time now. Why do you think we went to the Bootes Supercluster? And why do you think the Captain has been abducted and we have been sent back?”
Annie stopped and looked at the older Romulan. She looked very calm, and yet in her voice was a quiet frustration she tried not to let out. Was she exasperated by her or …?
“You think both events are linked?”
“I will go one step further and say that the reason why we were there is because someone wanted to capture the Captain.”
“But … but who? And why use the Wormhole to bring us there?”
“I would say that your second question is a most important clue to the answer to the first.”
Annie looked at Varel.
“Are you out of your freaking mind, woman? Are you telling me that this abduction was performed by …”
Varel raised her hand in a way which stopped Annie in her tracks.
“I will let this insubordination pass this one time, Lieutenant, because I know that Captain Watson is a very close friend of yours. And the answer to your question is yes.”
Annie stood corrected. Without acknowledging her faux-pas, but with a much more professional expression and tone, she just asked:
“But why?”
“That question, Lieutenant, is not for us to answer.”
“Then let’s try this one: why bring us to the Ocampan system?”
“I wish I knew, Lieutenant. Fortunately, this ship will not need more than six months to go from there to Khitomer …”
***
The scenery had changed once again for Sabrina.
One month ago, after having, in the unbearable cold of space, witnessed her ship, her crew leaving her all alone in that hellhole, she had lost consciousness and had awaken … here. But now, it all seemed like just another horrible nightmare.
She had spent all her time since in that dark, windowless room. She had screamed, but her voice seemed muffed by the walls.
She had found herself tied up, in a bizarre fashion. She couldn't move her arms, which were kind of crossed in front of her, in sleeves tied together in her back. She was wearing a top made from a heavy and coarse canvas, which seemed to have been put directly on her bare skin.
A straitjacket, she had deduced.
As for the bottom — there was none. She felt the floor under her butts, and she knew her legs and feet were naked too.
She was hungry and thirsty. But, even more than that, she was in a complete state of panic. Where was she? How had she arrived there?
She remembered the tortures. She remembered her deep hate for Dukat, her terror just before the locusts started breaking her bones, the freezing, the burning, her feeling of total vulnerability, and the pain … Oh the pain, the excruciating pain!
The day after, they had come for the first time. Two huge Cardassians. The very first time, she had felt so ashamed, she had closed her legs and curled up on herself. They had only laughed.
"Maybe we're not her type!"
Then for the first time she had had a taste of the prod the bigger of the two was holding.
He had hit her butt. She had felt a painful electric discharge. She had jerked and screamed.
"What are you doing?"
"Just giving you a taste of what will happen to you if you don't cooperate — or if we just feel like it, little girl. Now don't move!"
The smaller of the two giants gave her a hypospray.
"That's your food for the day."
"Huh?"
"That bowl contains water. Lap when you're thirsty."
"You pee in that pail. If you're a nice girl, we'll empty it and clean you up once a day. Understood?"
Sabrina looked at the man. She wasn't sure she had understood right. Her mind felt … blurry all of a sudden.
The bigger man prodded her again, right where it was the most humiliating and painful.
"UNDERSTOOD?"
Sabrina yelped, curled up, lowered her eyes and answered timidly:
"Yes … Sir."
"Excellent. We'll be back tonight and we'll play with you. Rest well."
***
Aboard the Deletham, the Task Force had worked well. They had found answers indeed. The problem was, every answer led to ten more questions.
It had started when Naomi Wildman had stepped inadvertently on an active set of subroutines no one had noticed before.
“So what is your final word on it, Naomi?” Yirina had asked her three days later.
“I believe it to be some kind of anti-theft device, designed to make sure that no ship could approach the Deletham and no alien could try operating it.”
Yirina and Taleria both looked at her, surprised. Taleria answered:
“Naomi, the Romulans never met that kind of problem.”
“I know, but according to my analysis, that’s what those subroutines do.”
“And they are active?”
“I am certain that they always have been, since the moment the ship was activated by their builders.”
“Why then didn’t it stop us?
“Maybe the ship thought the Romulans were good guys.”
“I have seen stranger things.”
***
"AAAAAAHHH!!"
That first night, Sabrina had felt the electric shock again on her butt and woken up. The two huge Cardassians were back.
"Hey, kid, who's Sam?"
She hadn't answered. She had no idea anyway.
"You said his name in your sleep. Is he your lover? Or is that the hobo who stuffed your mom with you?"
"Huh?"
"Was he any good?"
"How many times did he fuck her to make a wretch like you?"
"But …"
"Not important. Tonight we'll make comparisons. Tonight you'll party with two real men, and — you know what? — we rolled the dice, and I won first bid!"
"NO!"
Instinctively, Sabrina had closed her legs as strong as she could, but the prod quickly had made her jump and scream again.
"What's the problem, kid? You don’t like it? Or you think we can't be as good as Good Old Sam? Look at me! LOOK AT ME!"
Sabrina had looked. It was huge. She was terrorized.
"Please … No. Please …"
"Come on, kid. You be nice, and it's all over in ten minutes, and after that you may get a cuddle!"
"Please …"
"Now you SHUT THE HELL UP, or it's the prod before, during and after!"
Reluctantly, she had submitted. Every night. For a month now …
June 24, 2400
When the hiccup and vomiting finally stopped, and Sabrina felt like she had nothing left in her body, the scenery changed again, and she found herself in the vacuum of space, watching as the Chameleon was entering a wormhole looking so similar to the Bajoran one …
She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her throat. Besides, how would they have heard? So they were leaving her. She was alone now in that forsaken place, at the mercy of her tormentors …
And the damn scenery was changing again.
***
July 24, 2400
“Where the HELL is she?”
Annie was so mad and scared at the same time, she had turned the Chameleon over, piece by piece, to try to find her friend and lover. But it had been for nothing.
Varel, who had assumed command after the second day of unfruitful searches, looked at her again.
“Lieutenant, it is useless to scream and hit my desk with your fist. The Captain is not lost, she is gone. That is very different.”
“What?” Annie asked incredulously.
“I have been meditating on the situation for quite some time now. Why do you think we went to the Bootes Supercluster? And why do you think the Captain has been abducted and we have been sent back?”
Annie stopped and looked at the older Romulan. She looked very calm, and yet in her voice was a quiet frustration she tried not to let out. Was she exasperated by her or …?
“You think both events are linked?”
“I will go one step further and say that the reason why we were there is because someone wanted to capture the Captain.”
“But … but who? And why use the Wormhole to bring us there?”
“I would say that your second question is a most important clue to the answer to the first.”
Annie looked at Varel.
“Are you out of your freaking mind, woman? Are you telling me that this abduction was performed by …”
Varel raised her hand in a way which stopped Annie in her tracks.
“I will let this insubordination pass this one time, Lieutenant, because I know that Captain Watson is a very close friend of yours. And the answer to your question is yes.”
Annie stood corrected. Without acknowledging her faux-pas, but with a much more professional expression and tone, she just asked:
“But why?”
“That question, Lieutenant, is not for us to answer.”
“Then let’s try this one: why bring us to the Ocampan system?”
“I wish I knew, Lieutenant. Fortunately, this ship will not need more than six months to go from there to Khitomer …”
***
The scenery had changed once again for Sabrina.
One month ago, after having, in the unbearable cold of space, witnessed her ship, her crew leaving her all alone in that hellhole, she had lost consciousness and had awaken … here. But now, it all seemed like just another horrible nightmare.
She had spent all her time since in that dark, windowless room. She had screamed, but her voice seemed muffed by the walls.
She had found herself tied up, in a bizarre fashion. She couldn't move her arms, which were kind of crossed in front of her, in sleeves tied together in her back. She was wearing a top made from a heavy and coarse canvas, which seemed to have been put directly on her bare skin.
A straitjacket, she had deduced.
As for the bottom — there was none. She felt the floor under her butts, and she knew her legs and feet were naked too.
She was hungry and thirsty. But, even more than that, she was in a complete state of panic. Where was she? How had she arrived there?
She remembered the tortures. She remembered her deep hate for Dukat, her terror just before the locusts started breaking her bones, the freezing, the burning, her feeling of total vulnerability, and the pain … Oh the pain, the excruciating pain!
The day after, they had come for the first time. Two huge Cardassians. The very first time, she had felt so ashamed, she had closed her legs and curled up on herself. They had only laughed.
"Maybe we're not her type!"
Then for the first time she had had a taste of the prod the bigger of the two was holding.
He had hit her butt. She had felt a painful electric discharge. She had jerked and screamed.
"What are you doing?"
"Just giving you a taste of what will happen to you if you don't cooperate — or if we just feel like it, little girl. Now don't move!"
The smaller of the two giants gave her a hypospray.
"That's your food for the day."
"Huh?"
"That bowl contains water. Lap when you're thirsty."
"You pee in that pail. If you're a nice girl, we'll empty it and clean you up once a day. Understood?"
Sabrina looked at the man. She wasn't sure she had understood right. Her mind felt … blurry all of a sudden.
The bigger man prodded her again, right where it was the most humiliating and painful.
"UNDERSTOOD?"
Sabrina yelped, curled up, lowered her eyes and answered timidly:
"Yes … Sir."
"Excellent. We'll be back tonight and we'll play with you. Rest well."
***
Aboard the Deletham, the Task Force had worked well. They had found answers indeed. The problem was, every answer led to ten more questions.
It had started when Naomi Wildman had stepped inadvertently on an active set of subroutines no one had noticed before.
“So what is your final word on it, Naomi?” Yirina had asked her three days later.
“I believe it to be some kind of anti-theft device, designed to make sure that no ship could approach the Deletham and no alien could try operating it.”
Yirina and Taleria both looked at her, surprised. Taleria answered:
“Naomi, the Romulans never met that kind of problem.”
“I know, but according to my analysis, that’s what those subroutines do.”
“And they are active?”
“I am certain that they always have been, since the moment the ship was activated by their builders.”
“Why then didn’t it stop us?
“Maybe the ship thought the Romulans were good guys.”
“I have seen stranger things.”
***
"AAAAAAHHH!!"
That first night, Sabrina had felt the electric shock again on her butt and woken up. The two huge Cardassians were back.
"Hey, kid, who's Sam?"
She hadn't answered. She had no idea anyway.
"You said his name in your sleep. Is he your lover? Or is that the hobo who stuffed your mom with you?"
"Huh?"
"Was he any good?"
"How many times did he fuck her to make a wretch like you?"
"But …"
"Not important. Tonight we'll make comparisons. Tonight you'll party with two real men, and — you know what? — we rolled the dice, and I won first bid!"
"NO!"
Instinctively, Sabrina had closed her legs as strong as she could, but the prod quickly had made her jump and scream again.
"What's the problem, kid? You don’t like it? Or you think we can't be as good as Good Old Sam? Look at me! LOOK AT ME!"
Sabrina had looked. It was huge. She was terrorized.
"Please … No. Please …"
"Come on, kid. You be nice, and it's all over in ten minutes, and after that you may get a cuddle!"
"Please …"
"Now you SHUT THE HELL UP, or it's the prod before, during and after!"
Reluctantly, she had submitted. Every night. For a month now …
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
September 24, 2400
Three months.
For three months now, the USS Chameleon-A had warped her way in the Delta Quadrant, and was now about midway from home.
Equipped with all the camouflage devices designed by Starfleet, the Klingons, the Romulans and their allies, including a very clever multiphasic Ferengi device, which interacted with the Federation phasing cloak to add even more fluidity and stability to the final result, the Chameleon could in principle have made the entire trip under cloak, except of course for the humongous energy surges which would probably have been detected by an adversary smart enough to think outside the box.
Thanks to that equipment and to Varel’s innate curiosity, they had made a very interesting discovery while they were traveling through Borg space.
“Lieutenant Racicot, why should I get out of my bed and get to the Bridge, short of a red alert?”
“We are witnessing a very curious battle, Captain. I thought you would be interested in watching it for yourself.”
“Who is fighting?”
“The Borg, Captain.”
“Who are they fighting against?”
“The Borg, Captain.”
“Yes, but who are they fighting against?”
“The Borg are fighting among themselves, Captain.”
“What? I am coming!”
“Told you!”
Varel had jumped out of her bed, getting dressed en route to the Bridge, where she arrived prim and proper as usual, just a little out of breath. On the viewscreen, there they were: hundreds of cubes, spheres, diamonds and a few other shapes locked in a gigantic family feud. Or was it?
Varel was looking at a tactical view. She called Annie to it.
“Have you noticed?”
Annie looked at the two points Varel was pointing at on the display.
“It’s less visible on the viewscreen, until you are aware of it. Look there and there!”
***
Three months.
If what her torturers had told her was true, Sabrina had now spent three months in that horrible padded room.
Every day during the day, they had come, fed her with the hypospray, played with their prods on different parts of her exposed body, laughed of her suffering and left.
They had come back at night, cleaned her from the pee, changed her pail and her water, then tortured and raped her. Every night.
The hypospray had to contain some drugs. It was obvious, for she felt completely numb, physically and mentally, after it. But it was the only food she would receive for the day. Already her stomach was getting used to receiving nothing, and the pain of the cramps was almost gone.
At night, when the drug was less potent, and she couldn't sleep anyway after the nightly double rape, she tried to collect her thoughts.
The psych test … Those thirty children coming into the room, telling her they were lost … The little boy starting to cry, all the others crying too … She had looked out, nobody was there … She had started caring for them, had completely forgotten why she was there, telling them stories her nurse had told her, making them a little happier … Then the red alert, that call for immediate evacuation, the children panicking, she taking command of the group and leading them out.
And that damn Commander Chang coming at her, sending the children away, and congratulating her because her psych test was to evaluate her fear of responsibilities …
That had happened, hadn't it?
The years at Starfleet Academy, Roxanne Gifford, Faith, Lavell IX, the Forge, the Benzite guy … That too had happened!
Hadn't it?
The Chameleon, Captain Simmons, her promotion to Lieutenant Junior Grade, her becoming Assistant Chief of Security, the battle, her second promotion, her taking command of the Chameleon-A? The incident at Newman Five?
That had to have happened!
But so quickly?
Had she dreamed her affair with Annie, that gorgeous blonde? No, it was impossible. And yet — no real skin, no feeling whatsoever but her lips, that superhuman skeleton? It wasn’t true for her, for she felt the floor under her naked butts and feet, so cold, always so cold …
It seemed so … incredible. Was all that just figments of her imagination?
What if it was?
How could she have received command of a starship at the age of twenty-five, while just a simple Lieutenant?
No, it was impossible. It had to be a dream.
And yet, even today, it seemed so real …
***
Three months.
For three months Wilkins had left Khitomer in search of Sabrina. A thousand times he had gone through the Wormhole, scanning in every possible way every cubic millimeter of it, sending all kinds of signals, hoping for a clue to what had happened to the Chameleon.
All in vain. And then …
“I liked Picard’s ship better.”
Wilkins woke up and looked at the strange character in front of him, wearing an Admiral uniform.
“Who are you? Security!”
“Don’t bother, mon Amiral. We are not aboard the good ship Lollipop anymore. I wanted to have a private talk with you.”
Wilkins had just awakened enough to sort his ideas. Of course. Now he recognized him from the portraits, and his language was exactly like what both Picard and Janeway had described at length. It could only be …
“Q.”
“Ooooh! And I wanted to play charades with you. But it’s my fault, I guess. I should have introduced myself in a different shape.”
“What do you want, Q?”
“Aaaah, wrong question, mon Amiral. The question is: What do you want? And the answer is obvious. Tell me, Leo, are you in a serious, sexually promiscuous relationship with your little Lieutenant-Captain?”
“What? No! I just …”
“You consider her as the daughter you never had, maybe? But isn’t it a little incestuous then to look at her naked in an aquarium?”
“So you know that too?”
“I know everything about Sabrina Helena Watson, Admiral. It is you who have a few things to learn about her.”
“For now I’d settle for knowing where she is.”
“Irrelevant.”
“How so?”
“You couldn’t get there. Not with this relic anyway.”
“Did you abduct her?”
“Moi? No, mon Amiral, not me. But I know who did it and I know why.”
“Why then?”
“To torture her, of course! Would you like to see?”
And, without waiting for an answer, Q started to show Wilkins everything that had happened to Sabrina, from the chess game to her current predicament in the padded cell.
Wilkins looked at Q. He had tears in his eyes.
“Ah, come on, daddy, your little girl will survive everything. She’s not quite finished though, and what’s left for her to endure may be the worst part.”
“But why? Who?”
“Who is obvious. Why is maybe a little too difficult to understand for your feeble mind. Just know this, Leo: this little girl is the last, the very last hope of mankind. Only to have a chance in the dual role awaiting her, she has to be made ready. And for that she must understand where she came from, and what was …”
He stopped. Wilkins looked at him.
“I was going to give you a little too many clues. She must find out for herself what I just told you, or she will fail. And if she fails, humanity will not be the only species to be denied existence.”
“You told me nothing.”
“I gave you the dots, Leo. Connect them. And when she comes back, make her a captain. That will help her. Ta ta!”
In a flash, Q disappeared and Wilkins found himself back in his quarters, trying to make sense of what he had just been told … or not.
September 24, 2400
Three months.
For three months now, the USS Chameleon-A had warped her way in the Delta Quadrant, and was now about midway from home.
Equipped with all the camouflage devices designed by Starfleet, the Klingons, the Romulans and their allies, including a very clever multiphasic Ferengi device, which interacted with the Federation phasing cloak to add even more fluidity and stability to the final result, the Chameleon could in principle have made the entire trip under cloak, except of course for the humongous energy surges which would probably have been detected by an adversary smart enough to think outside the box.
Thanks to that equipment and to Varel’s innate curiosity, they had made a very interesting discovery while they were traveling through Borg space.
“Lieutenant Racicot, why should I get out of my bed and get to the Bridge, short of a red alert?”
“We are witnessing a very curious battle, Captain. I thought you would be interested in watching it for yourself.”
“Who is fighting?”
“The Borg, Captain.”
“Who are they fighting against?”
“The Borg, Captain.”
“Yes, but who are they fighting against?”
“The Borg are fighting among themselves, Captain.”
“What? I am coming!”
“Told you!”
Varel had jumped out of her bed, getting dressed en route to the Bridge, where she arrived prim and proper as usual, just a little out of breath. On the viewscreen, there they were: hundreds of cubes, spheres, diamonds and a few other shapes locked in a gigantic family feud. Or was it?
Varel was looking at a tactical view. She called Annie to it.
“Have you noticed?”
Annie looked at the two points Varel was pointing at on the display.
“It’s less visible on the viewscreen, until you are aware of it. Look there and there!”
***
Three months.
If what her torturers had told her was true, Sabrina had now spent three months in that horrible padded room.
Every day during the day, they had come, fed her with the hypospray, played with their prods on different parts of her exposed body, laughed of her suffering and left.
They had come back at night, cleaned her from the pee, changed her pail and her water, then tortured and raped her. Every night.
The hypospray had to contain some drugs. It was obvious, for she felt completely numb, physically and mentally, after it. But it was the only food she would receive for the day. Already her stomach was getting used to receiving nothing, and the pain of the cramps was almost gone.
At night, when the drug was less potent, and she couldn't sleep anyway after the nightly double rape, she tried to collect her thoughts.
The psych test … Those thirty children coming into the room, telling her they were lost … The little boy starting to cry, all the others crying too … She had looked out, nobody was there … She had started caring for them, had completely forgotten why she was there, telling them stories her nurse had told her, making them a little happier … Then the red alert, that call for immediate evacuation, the children panicking, she taking command of the group and leading them out.
And that damn Commander Chang coming at her, sending the children away, and congratulating her because her psych test was to evaluate her fear of responsibilities …
That had happened, hadn't it?
The years at Starfleet Academy, Roxanne Gifford, Faith, Lavell IX, the Forge, the Benzite guy … That too had happened!
Hadn't it?
The Chameleon, Captain Simmons, her promotion to Lieutenant Junior Grade, her becoming Assistant Chief of Security, the battle, her second promotion, her taking command of the Chameleon-A? The incident at Newman Five?
That had to have happened!
But so quickly?
Had she dreamed her affair with Annie, that gorgeous blonde? No, it was impossible. And yet — no real skin, no feeling whatsoever but her lips, that superhuman skeleton? It wasn’t true for her, for she felt the floor under her naked butts and feet, so cold, always so cold …
It seemed so … incredible. Was all that just figments of her imagination?
What if it was?
How could she have received command of a starship at the age of twenty-five, while just a simple Lieutenant?
No, it was impossible. It had to be a dream.
And yet, even today, it seemed so real …
***
Three months.
For three months Wilkins had left Khitomer in search of Sabrina. A thousand times he had gone through the Wormhole, scanning in every possible way every cubic millimeter of it, sending all kinds of signals, hoping for a clue to what had happened to the Chameleon.
All in vain. And then …
“I liked Picard’s ship better.”
Wilkins woke up and looked at the strange character in front of him, wearing an Admiral uniform.
“Who are you? Security!”
“Don’t bother, mon Amiral. We are not aboard the good ship Lollipop anymore. I wanted to have a private talk with you.”
Wilkins had just awakened enough to sort his ideas. Of course. Now he recognized him from the portraits, and his language was exactly like what both Picard and Janeway had described at length. It could only be …
“Q.”
“Ooooh! And I wanted to play charades with you. But it’s my fault, I guess. I should have introduced myself in a different shape.”
“What do you want, Q?”
“Aaaah, wrong question, mon Amiral. The question is: What do you want? And the answer is obvious. Tell me, Leo, are you in a serious, sexually promiscuous relationship with your little Lieutenant-Captain?”
“What? No! I just …”
“You consider her as the daughter you never had, maybe? But isn’t it a little incestuous then to look at her naked in an aquarium?”
“So you know that too?”
“I know everything about Sabrina Helena Watson, Admiral. It is you who have a few things to learn about her.”
“For now I’d settle for knowing where she is.”
“Irrelevant.”
“How so?”
“You couldn’t get there. Not with this relic anyway.”
“Did you abduct her?”
“Moi? No, mon Amiral, not me. But I know who did it and I know why.”
“Why then?”
“To torture her, of course! Would you like to see?”
And, without waiting for an answer, Q started to show Wilkins everything that had happened to Sabrina, from the chess game to her current predicament in the padded cell.
Wilkins looked at Q. He had tears in his eyes.
“Ah, come on, daddy, your little girl will survive everything. She’s not quite finished though, and what’s left for her to endure may be the worst part.”
“But why? Who?”
“Who is obvious. Why is maybe a little too difficult to understand for your feeble mind. Just know this, Leo: this little girl is the last, the very last hope of mankind. Only to have a chance in the dual role awaiting her, she has to be made ready. And for that she must understand where she came from, and what was …”
He stopped. Wilkins looked at him.
“I was going to give you a little too many clues. She must find out for herself what I just told you, or she will fail. And if she fails, humanity will not be the only species to be denied existence.”
“You told me nothing.”
“I gave you the dots, Leo. Connect them. And when she comes back, make her a captain. That will help her. Ta ta!”
In a flash, Q disappeared and Wilkins found himself back in his quarters, trying to make sense of what he had just been told … or not.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
December 24, 2400
The trip had lasted six months to the day. The Chameleon, driven by her most advanced warp core and the iron will of her crew, had gone from the Ocampan System to home, which in her case was not Earth, but Khitomer.
They had crossed Kazon space, then had spent about half of their time in Borg space before arriving in mostly uncharted regions. Finally, after some quite interesting adventures, they had reached the Beta Quadrant. From then on, the trip had been mostly eventless, almost boring.
Annie and Nicole could not believe that their friend was gone. Nicole had served with her for months, the two of them sharing their two good legs to roam around the Chameleon, first of the line, so Sabrina could assume command the best she knew how at the time. They had also slept together, sometimes in the same bed, but most often Sabrina in the bed, Nicole in the chair, because Sabrina couldn’t bear being alone.
As for Annie … she had lived alone for so long until Sabrina’s doctors invited her to come to Sabrina’s bed and try to guide in her new touch-less life. Then the wonderful, physical friendship the two had developed had finally given her some solace. She still had no feelings from being touched, but she loved to cuddle with her friend, and their hearts were now so linked that they had almost talked marriage.
But Sabrina was gone and Annie felt lonelier than ever. So she had devoted her time, her energy, her thoughts to her work and to new studies, before asking a transfer to Command, which Varel had granted, since she was her First Officer anyway.
That’s why Annie was docking the Chameleon …
***
“Frankly, Eminence, I was wondering when you would finally return to Bajor. Jaro left quite some time ago, and …”
“Admiral Fox, I am not returning to Bajor. I am going to Bajor to perform a task that must be done now, then I am coming back to Deep Space Nine. And I will not make my presence known.”
“May I know why?”
“The time has come for a retreat in the Janitza Mountains.”
“Isn’t that the place …?”
“Yes, Admiral. The will of the Prophets is that I go there now. I simply follow their path. After all, if the Kai does not, who will?”
“I quite agree. Will you need an escort?”
“No. I must go there with nothing but one set of the most essential clothes. I shall bring nothing else, not even food or water. The Prophets will provide.”
“Do you have any idea how long it will take?”
“Until I meet the Destitute.”
***
The Mogai had spent all those months trying to figure out where they were. T’Shiya still looked like a child among adults, but there were wrinkles on her forehead and her eyes were puffed with fatigue.
But her hard work, constantly encouraged by her Captain — who now was used to being called that way —, had finally paid off a few days earlier, when she had been able to rework the Mogai’s sensors and scanners to find “the way out”. They still had no idea where they had been, but at least they knew where they were now.
Surrounded by sixteen Qalan ships.
“Captain, we have audio communication.”
“At least they have not opened fire first. Answer them.”
“Federation ship, identify yourselves.”
“How do they know?”
“Picard’s first contact, remember? Qalan ship, I am Com … Captain Teroth of the Federation Starship USS Mogai. We bring you the good wishes of the United Federation of Planets.”
“Go away.”
“Qalan ship, we …”
“Captain, they have cut communications and they are loading their weapons.”
“Ooh shit.”
***
Sabrina didn't know true from false, reality from fantasy anymore, but she remembered it all: The Chameleon, her destruction, she being repaired in a tank, her next assignment, her vision with Sisko and Dukat, her waking up in that damn cell …
How much of it was true? Had she maybe spent all her life here, creating a multi-level fantasy to pass the time?
Had she been raped and tortured last night by those two huge men, or was it part of her fantasies? And if that was the case, what kind of a horrible person must she have been, either to deserve such horrendous treatment, or to build that kind of sick scenario in her mind?
Was it all a dream?
***
After Q’s visit, Wilkins had awakened B’Elanna and Boothby. They had spent a lot of time in his quarters, trying to understand what he had just told them.
“It makes no sense, Leo, and yet from what I get from Q’s dealings with Captain Janeway, he never lies. He may speak in riddles, but he never lies.”
“You explain to me then, B’Elanna. What exactly did he tell me? That the girl has been kidnapped and savagely tortured to learn some kind of lesson? What kind exactly?”
“And that she is crucial to the survival of humanity and other races to be named later. That I could have told you”, Boothby had added.
“How so?”
“Have you really had a talk with that girl, Mister Wilkins?”
“Well, yes, a couple of times.”
“Off duty?”
“No.”
“Do it then. Invite her at your favorite place in the holodeck and listen to her. Make her talk about herself, her hopes, her fears, her aspirations … She’s more than the sum of her parts, I tell you.”
So they had stopped searching for her. But Wilkins felt good aboard the Enterprise, so he decided to remain there and add the venerable ship to the patrols of what was left of Starfleet. As for the Deletham, although it seemed that the engineers trying to decipher her mysteries were failing miserably, it was still the prime battleship of the allied fleet, and she was now used for long range patrols.
And then the message arrived to the Enterprise.
“Sir, this is Faris. We received a message from Khitomer, Sir. The Chameleon is back.”
***
Sabrina woke up, once again, in the hated, bland, padded cell, which had been her "home" for so long that she didn't even remember any more when she had arrived, and she had no idea what today was, as she had stopped asking long ago.
Once again she saw the redness of the prods on her thighs and higher.
Once again she felt the soreness between her legs and inside her butts.
Once again she tried to remember what had happened the night before.
Once again it came back to her, plunging her in the deepest despair.
But she so didn't want to remember any more. Why couldn't she just die, and escape that dreary existence once and for all?
And that dream, that stupid dream, on that stupid ship, that Chameleon … What could it mean? Why was she having dreams so far from reality?
There she was, a prisoner in some kind of jail, raped and tortured at night, beaten and cleaned up and teased by day.
Twice a week she was shackled and sent to that place, the oh so cold concrete floor freezing her bare feet … and that was another proof, wasn't it? Since in that ship fantasy, she endured extreme cold with most ease.
She was tortured in that reality too. It seemed it was the only constant in her sorry life: the torture, the abuse, the pain …
Those Cardassians who soaped her with their damn bare hands, that bath, which froze her to the deepest of her soul, the way they dried her once, twice, three times, sneering at her sobs, at her shattering teeth …
Was that all that her life was?
Why couldn't she simply die and finally find respite?
How old was she? How long did she have left to live?
Was she the last of her kind?
Or maybe that was what life was all about: living all tied up, butts naked, in a straitjacket, for the amusement of males … Maybe she was just a sentient pet with delusions of humanity.
December 24, 2400
The trip had lasted six months to the day. The Chameleon, driven by her most advanced warp core and the iron will of her crew, had gone from the Ocampan System to home, which in her case was not Earth, but Khitomer.
They had crossed Kazon space, then had spent about half of their time in Borg space before arriving in mostly uncharted regions. Finally, after some quite interesting adventures, they had reached the Beta Quadrant. From then on, the trip had been mostly eventless, almost boring.
Annie and Nicole could not believe that their friend was gone. Nicole had served with her for months, the two of them sharing their two good legs to roam around the Chameleon, first of the line, so Sabrina could assume command the best she knew how at the time. They had also slept together, sometimes in the same bed, but most often Sabrina in the bed, Nicole in the chair, because Sabrina couldn’t bear being alone.
As for Annie … she had lived alone for so long until Sabrina’s doctors invited her to come to Sabrina’s bed and try to guide in her new touch-less life. Then the wonderful, physical friendship the two had developed had finally given her some solace. She still had no feelings from being touched, but she loved to cuddle with her friend, and their hearts were now so linked that they had almost talked marriage.
But Sabrina was gone and Annie felt lonelier than ever. So she had devoted her time, her energy, her thoughts to her work and to new studies, before asking a transfer to Command, which Varel had granted, since she was her First Officer anyway.
That’s why Annie was docking the Chameleon …
***
“Frankly, Eminence, I was wondering when you would finally return to Bajor. Jaro left quite some time ago, and …”
“Admiral Fox, I am not returning to Bajor. I am going to Bajor to perform a task that must be done now, then I am coming back to Deep Space Nine. And I will not make my presence known.”
“May I know why?”
“The time has come for a retreat in the Janitza Mountains.”
“Isn’t that the place …?”
“Yes, Admiral. The will of the Prophets is that I go there now. I simply follow their path. After all, if the Kai does not, who will?”
“I quite agree. Will you need an escort?”
“No. I must go there with nothing but one set of the most essential clothes. I shall bring nothing else, not even food or water. The Prophets will provide.”
“Do you have any idea how long it will take?”
“Until I meet the Destitute.”
***
The Mogai had spent all those months trying to figure out where they were. T’Shiya still looked like a child among adults, but there were wrinkles on her forehead and her eyes were puffed with fatigue.
But her hard work, constantly encouraged by her Captain — who now was used to being called that way —, had finally paid off a few days earlier, when she had been able to rework the Mogai’s sensors and scanners to find “the way out”. They still had no idea where they had been, but at least they knew where they were now.
Surrounded by sixteen Qalan ships.
“Captain, we have audio communication.”
“At least they have not opened fire first. Answer them.”
“Federation ship, identify yourselves.”
“How do they know?”
“Picard’s first contact, remember? Qalan ship, I am Com … Captain Teroth of the Federation Starship USS Mogai. We bring you the good wishes of the United Federation of Planets.”
“Go away.”
“Qalan ship, we …”
“Captain, they have cut communications and they are loading their weapons.”
“Ooh shit.”
***
Sabrina didn't know true from false, reality from fantasy anymore, but she remembered it all: The Chameleon, her destruction, she being repaired in a tank, her next assignment, her vision with Sisko and Dukat, her waking up in that damn cell …
How much of it was true? Had she maybe spent all her life here, creating a multi-level fantasy to pass the time?
Had she been raped and tortured last night by those two huge men, or was it part of her fantasies? And if that was the case, what kind of a horrible person must she have been, either to deserve such horrendous treatment, or to build that kind of sick scenario in her mind?
Was it all a dream?
***
After Q’s visit, Wilkins had awakened B’Elanna and Boothby. They had spent a lot of time in his quarters, trying to understand what he had just told them.
“It makes no sense, Leo, and yet from what I get from Q’s dealings with Captain Janeway, he never lies. He may speak in riddles, but he never lies.”
“You explain to me then, B’Elanna. What exactly did he tell me? That the girl has been kidnapped and savagely tortured to learn some kind of lesson? What kind exactly?”
“And that she is crucial to the survival of humanity and other races to be named later. That I could have told you”, Boothby had added.
“How so?”
“Have you really had a talk with that girl, Mister Wilkins?”
“Well, yes, a couple of times.”
“Off duty?”
“No.”
“Do it then. Invite her at your favorite place in the holodeck and listen to her. Make her talk about herself, her hopes, her fears, her aspirations … She’s more than the sum of her parts, I tell you.”
So they had stopped searching for her. But Wilkins felt good aboard the Enterprise, so he decided to remain there and add the venerable ship to the patrols of what was left of Starfleet. As for the Deletham, although it seemed that the engineers trying to decipher her mysteries were failing miserably, it was still the prime battleship of the allied fleet, and she was now used for long range patrols.
And then the message arrived to the Enterprise.
“Sir, this is Faris. We received a message from Khitomer, Sir. The Chameleon is back.”
***
Sabrina woke up, once again, in the hated, bland, padded cell, which had been her "home" for so long that she didn't even remember any more when she had arrived, and she had no idea what today was, as she had stopped asking long ago.
Once again she saw the redness of the prods on her thighs and higher.
Once again she felt the soreness between her legs and inside her butts.
Once again she tried to remember what had happened the night before.
Once again it came back to her, plunging her in the deepest despair.
But she so didn't want to remember any more. Why couldn't she just die, and escape that dreary existence once and for all?
And that dream, that stupid dream, on that stupid ship, that Chameleon … What could it mean? Why was she having dreams so far from reality?
There she was, a prisoner in some kind of jail, raped and tortured at night, beaten and cleaned up and teased by day.
Twice a week she was shackled and sent to that place, the oh so cold concrete floor freezing her bare feet … and that was another proof, wasn't it? Since in that ship fantasy, she endured extreme cold with most ease.
She was tortured in that reality too. It seemed it was the only constant in her sorry life: the torture, the abuse, the pain …
Those Cardassians who soaped her with their damn bare hands, that bath, which froze her to the deepest of her soul, the way they dried her once, twice, three times, sneering at her sobs, at her shattering teeth …
Was that all that her life was?
Why couldn't she simply die and finally find respite?
How old was she? How long did she have left to live?
Was she the last of her kind?
Or maybe that was what life was all about: living all tied up, butts naked, in a straitjacket, for the amusement of males … Maybe she was just a sentient pet with delusions of humanity.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
December 24, 2400
Sabrina sighed. They had come to get her. Again.
The shackles, the ice cold floor, the prods on her butts, her jumping and yelping. As usual.
"Good morning, Captain."
She raised her head and look at the old fatso. Again.
"Met any Klingons lately?"
The same old Klingon joke. Again.
"No, Sir."
The same answer. Always.
"Nobody raped you recently?"
"No, Sir."
It was that or being tortured tonight. Since she probably would be anyway, at least she avoided the stress now.
The conversation kept going for a few more minutes, then it ended as usual.
The ice cold water, the ice cubes freezing her to death. Again.
The drying, again.
And then it would be the clean straitjacket, tied up so tight it hurt, the shackles, the return …
"Come."
Huh?
"Come on, we don't have all day."
That probably was a new torture. Maybe they were going to do something new to her, something worse than ever. But what?
She started following that one like a zombie. The others were behind her, convincing her enough that it had to be some prelude to a new hell.
What the heck?
They took an elevator, which seemed to go up, and up, and up, for a long time.
The floor was colder and colder under her bare feet, but she was getting used to it, it seemed.
They had reached a large door.
The man in front of her opened it.
"Get out."
Sabrina just didn't register. On the other side of the door was … the outside world?
The three Cardassians behind her pushed her. Then the door was closed and locked behind her.
There was snow under her feet. So it was winter or early spring. The wind was blowing, a cold wind, carrying a light snowfall which was probably going to get stronger, considering the dark gray sky.
She was completely naked. She felt the intense cold, under her feet and on all her body, but strangely she felt numb to it … almost … fine?
She started walking down the stairs, with an unsteady pace. She was not used any more to walking without shackles, without being held, without the prods constantly reminding her that she was nothing but … well, a thing of amusement to her tormentors.
She was walking on the ground now. She had snow to the ankles. But she felt so … fine. Her mind seemed to get … clearer.
She kept walking. She didn't notice that the building had disappeared and that she was now alone in some kind of mountain until she finally raised her head and looked around, almost three hours later.
***
Onara was gone now, and Fox was still wondering what she meant by her last words.
“No. I must go there with nothing but one set of the most essential clothes. I shall bring nothing else, not even food or water. The Prophets will provide.”
“Do you have any idea how long it will take?”
“Until I meet the Destitute.”
Well, there was one way to find out.
“Kira, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Admiral.”
“Who is the Destitute?”
Kira looked at the old Admiral.
“How do you know about the Destitute?”
“The Kai has left the station to go after him. Who is he?”
“In the Fire Caves?”
“She said in the Janitza Mountains.”
“The Fire Caves. Could he have arrived at last?”
“Who is he?”
“Sorry. The Destitute is a Bajoran who has been through all the trials and horrors endured by the Bajoran people. He will bring peace and destruction.”
“Peace and destruction?”
“That’s what the scrolls say.”
“A Bajoran, you say. Does the prophecy say anything else?”
“I’ve never read it, just heard what the Vedeks taught us. But clearly it must be a old man, since the first Cardassian Occupation troops landed on Bajoran soil in 2318, and he must have been old enough to actually suffer from it, which would put him around ninety years old at least …”
***
The Enterprise had reached Khitomer at a record speed for a Constitution-Class starship of any model. Wilkins had beamed aboard the Chameleon, only to learn that they had lost their captain about 2.8 billion light years away.
Of course, that detail was new. Q had made him understand that Sabrina had been separated from her crew, and that she would come back eventually. Only now it was clear enough that it could be much, much later.
So he talked with Varel and Annie, and the result was that he now felt so frustrated, he thought nothing could be worse.
And then the news came.
“Sir, we have lost the Deletham.”
“Say what?”
“Captain T’Rul was transmitting a General Distress Call — it’s not clear what happened — when it stopped abruptly. The cha'bIp was the first to arrive, and all they found was debris. They’re from the Deletham, Sir.”
Wilkins sighed. That was the end of it. No other ship but the Deletham could defend Khitomer against a massive attack. If it was gone …
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Wilkins out.”
B’Elanna took him by the arm. He seemed to need it.
***
Sabrina had kept walking in the snow until the night had fallen. The snowfall was a lot stronger now, and the winds were much more piercing than before. But she didn’t care. She felt it, but strangely she didn’t suffer from it. So she just sat down in the snow, naked, in the lotus position, and started thinking about her situation.
The snow kept falling, now covering about half of her skin, the winds kept blowing, freezing her to the core. But it didn’t hurt.
And time went by …
December 24, 2400
Sabrina sighed. They had come to get her. Again.
The shackles, the ice cold floor, the prods on her butts, her jumping and yelping. As usual.
"Good morning, Captain."
She raised her head and look at the old fatso. Again.
"Met any Klingons lately?"
The same old Klingon joke. Again.
"No, Sir."
The same answer. Always.
"Nobody raped you recently?"
"No, Sir."
It was that or being tortured tonight. Since she probably would be anyway, at least she avoided the stress now.
The conversation kept going for a few more minutes, then it ended as usual.
The ice cold water, the ice cubes freezing her to death. Again.
The drying, again.
And then it would be the clean straitjacket, tied up so tight it hurt, the shackles, the return …
"Come."
Huh?
"Come on, we don't have all day."
That probably was a new torture. Maybe they were going to do something new to her, something worse than ever. But what?
She started following that one like a zombie. The others were behind her, convincing her enough that it had to be some prelude to a new hell.
What the heck?
They took an elevator, which seemed to go up, and up, and up, for a long time.
The floor was colder and colder under her bare feet, but she was getting used to it, it seemed.
They had reached a large door.
The man in front of her opened it.
"Get out."
Sabrina just didn't register. On the other side of the door was … the outside world?
The three Cardassians behind her pushed her. Then the door was closed and locked behind her.
There was snow under her feet. So it was winter or early spring. The wind was blowing, a cold wind, carrying a light snowfall which was probably going to get stronger, considering the dark gray sky.
She was completely naked. She felt the intense cold, under her feet and on all her body, but strangely she felt numb to it … almost … fine?
She started walking down the stairs, with an unsteady pace. She was not used any more to walking without shackles, without being held, without the prods constantly reminding her that she was nothing but … well, a thing of amusement to her tormentors.
She was walking on the ground now. She had snow to the ankles. But she felt so … fine. Her mind seemed to get … clearer.
She kept walking. She didn't notice that the building had disappeared and that she was now alone in some kind of mountain until she finally raised her head and looked around, almost three hours later.
***
Onara was gone now, and Fox was still wondering what she meant by her last words.
“No. I must go there with nothing but one set of the most essential clothes. I shall bring nothing else, not even food or water. The Prophets will provide.”
“Do you have any idea how long it will take?”
“Until I meet the Destitute.”
Well, there was one way to find out.
“Kira, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Admiral.”
“Who is the Destitute?”
Kira looked at the old Admiral.
“How do you know about the Destitute?”
“The Kai has left the station to go after him. Who is he?”
“In the Fire Caves?”
“She said in the Janitza Mountains.”
“The Fire Caves. Could he have arrived at last?”
“Who is he?”
“Sorry. The Destitute is a Bajoran who has been through all the trials and horrors endured by the Bajoran people. He will bring peace and destruction.”
“Peace and destruction?”
“That’s what the scrolls say.”
“A Bajoran, you say. Does the prophecy say anything else?”
“I’ve never read it, just heard what the Vedeks taught us. But clearly it must be a old man, since the first Cardassian Occupation troops landed on Bajoran soil in 2318, and he must have been old enough to actually suffer from it, which would put him around ninety years old at least …”
***
The Enterprise had reached Khitomer at a record speed for a Constitution-Class starship of any model. Wilkins had beamed aboard the Chameleon, only to learn that they had lost their captain about 2.8 billion light years away.
Of course, that detail was new. Q had made him understand that Sabrina had been separated from her crew, and that she would come back eventually. Only now it was clear enough that it could be much, much later.
So he talked with Varel and Annie, and the result was that he now felt so frustrated, he thought nothing could be worse.
And then the news came.
“Sir, we have lost the Deletham.”
“Say what?”
“Captain T’Rul was transmitting a General Distress Call — it’s not clear what happened — when it stopped abruptly. The cha'bIp was the first to arrive, and all they found was debris. They’re from the Deletham, Sir.”
Wilkins sighed. That was the end of it. No other ship but the Deletham could defend Khitomer against a massive attack. If it was gone …
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Wilkins out.”
B’Elanna took him by the arm. He seemed to need it.
***
Sabrina had kept walking in the snow until the night had fallen. The snowfall was a lot stronger now, and the winds were much more piercing than before. But she didn’t care. She felt it, but strangely she didn’t suffer from it. So she just sat down in the snow, naked, in the lotus position, and started thinking about her situation.
The snow kept falling, now covering about half of her skin, the winds kept blowing, freezing her to the core. But it didn’t hurt.
And time went by …
Holy crap--are you killing off Sabrina? Though after all that time naked out in the open, in my opinion she should already be long dead from exposure, what with her facilties already drained before they even chucked her outside. Makes me wonder if, and pardon me if I'm revealing something, any of it's actually real. Holodeck? Wait, I don't want to know...
He he ... The girls would eat me alive if I killed her.
Yeah, she should be dead, and yet she's not. But the answer is not as simple as a simple fantasy. No, some things that happened to her may have been not quite real, but she is actually naked and alone, in the dead of winter. And time is still going by ...
In Season 3, we will all learn why this ordeal was imposed to her.
Yeah, she should be dead, and yet she's not. But the answer is not as simple as a simple fantasy. No, some things that happened to her may have been not quite real, but she is actually naked and alone, in the dead of winter. And time is still going by ...
In Season 3, we will all learn why this ordeal was imposed to her.
Can't wait. 
Okay, I'll try to be patient, but be aware I'm now protected by a clan of lethal ninja bodyguards whose apptitude for carnage make your girls look like boyscouts, so it might not be safe for you to take too long with your writing.
I'm just saying...
I'm just saying...
Oh boy, you've done it again. One of my girls read that while drinking over the keyboard.
"Lethal ninj ..." she couldn't finish. She spitted the whisky and gunpowder mix on the keyboard and started laughing out loud. She showed it to her sisters and they spent the morning rolling on the floor.
It seems they met "lethal ninja bodyguards" once already. They told me that the story was too gory for me, but they'd show you what they did.
I guess they meant they'd show your "lethal ninja bodyguards" ... At least I hope so.
"Lethal ninj ..." she couldn't finish. She spitted the whisky and gunpowder mix on the keyboard and started laughing out loud. She showed it to her sisters and they spent the morning rolling on the floor.
It seems they met "lethal ninja bodyguards" once already. They told me that the story was too gory for me, but they'd show you what they did.
I guess they meant they'd show your "lethal ninja bodyguards" ... At least I hope so.
You think your gang of hot naked blonde girls are so tough, but I'm gonna show you how wrong you are by going right out to the bambo pagoda my ninja clan built behind my bomb shelter and tell them to...to...wait, do you smell that? Smells like charred flesh and burning bambo, what the hell-
OMIGOD! MY NINJA CLAN!
Oh, the horror...
OMIGOD! MY NINJA CLAN!
Oh, the horror...
Well, to console you for your loss, here it is.
PROLOGUE TO SEASON THREE
March 24, 2401
The cha'bIp, a brand new Klingon Vor’Cha-class ship equipped with a few upgrades, mostly Romulan design, had found the debris of the Deletham and had sent the alarming message to Khitomer. Then they had detected the escape pods. After a few days, they had finally rescued the whole crew of the Deletham, who had an incredible story to tell.
But Wilkins had listened to it in a very absent-minded way. To him, it was a disaster, and those ghost stories were not going to solve his problem: the only ship between them and the Dominion-Reman Alliance and the Borg had been destroyed.
Fortunately, for some reason the enemies hadn’t manifested themselves until now. Maybe it was related to the incredible discovery the Chameleon had made in Borg space, returning from the Ocampan system after their excursion to the Bootes Supercluster, where they had lost their captain. But that would have explained only the non-interference of the Borg, not the Alliance.
***
The Mogai had found the Qalans. Or the other way around, that was not important. What was important was that the Qalans had no love for the Dominion, but they were now segregated in hundreds of small sects, all mistrusting each other for various reasons, all related to the original motive for dissension. They hated the Borg too, and that seemed to be their main reason for staying together instead of dispersing all around the galaxy. So they had listened. But they wouldn’t do squat. All they promised was that none of the Federation’s sworn enemies would set foot into their space without being promptly massacred.
So the Mogai was coming back, bearing a few gifts, that message and the one they had received months ago from another source, which would probably make Starfleet Command fall off their seats …
***
Kai Onara had spent three months trekking through the Janitza Mountains. It was now time for her to go where she did not want to go. But if she was to find the Destitute, it was the place to look into …
PROLOGUE TO SEASON THREE
March 24, 2401
The cha'bIp, a brand new Klingon Vor’Cha-class ship equipped with a few upgrades, mostly Romulan design, had found the debris of the Deletham and had sent the alarming message to Khitomer. Then they had detected the escape pods. After a few days, they had finally rescued the whole crew of the Deletham, who had an incredible story to tell.
But Wilkins had listened to it in a very absent-minded way. To him, it was a disaster, and those ghost stories were not going to solve his problem: the only ship between them and the Dominion-Reman Alliance and the Borg had been destroyed.
Fortunately, for some reason the enemies hadn’t manifested themselves until now. Maybe it was related to the incredible discovery the Chameleon had made in Borg space, returning from the Ocampan system after their excursion to the Bootes Supercluster, where they had lost their captain. But that would have explained only the non-interference of the Borg, not the Alliance.
***
The Mogai had found the Qalans. Or the other way around, that was not important. What was important was that the Qalans had no love for the Dominion, but they were now segregated in hundreds of small sects, all mistrusting each other for various reasons, all related to the original motive for dissension. They hated the Borg too, and that seemed to be their main reason for staying together instead of dispersing all around the galaxy. So they had listened. But they wouldn’t do squat. All they promised was that none of the Federation’s sworn enemies would set foot into their space without being promptly massacred.
So the Mogai was coming back, bearing a few gifts, that message and the one they had received months ago from another source, which would probably make Starfleet Command fall off their seats …
***
Kai Onara had spent three months trekking through the Janitza Mountains. It was now time for her to go where she did not want to go. But if she was to find the Destitute, it was the place to look into …
That didn't help at all, in fact it was just cruel, because it made me want to read the new season even more. Jeez, thanks alot, first your girls chicken-fry all my ninjas and now this...
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