Naissance; ALL NEW
STAR TREK:
Project Naissance
"Bak'ooth On The Brain" pt 2
By Robert Scorpio and Kubwulf
With special character and technical advice from development from;
Mistral
Hellsgate
Spockkid05
The ship shuddered under the pounding it was taken but he shields held. Shaking his head at the persistent and predictable attacks of the Orion smugglers, Thomas Riker watched in undisguised contempt as the view screen showed the three retro-fitted Bajoran raiders swing across the star field over his stern and begin their 6th strafing run. With his fingers flying over the consoles arrayed in front of him, Thomas threw his craft into a corkscrew maneuver that the Raiders couldn’t match. Smiling to himself he allowed himself a chuckle and patted the nearest bulkhead, “The girl’s still got it.”
After being mothballed for the last four years, the Juno handled surprisingly well. It was also one of the toughest fighter class starships in the galaxy. Its weapons were military grade as were its shields and warp core. Thomas had done extensive work to the vessel during his time with the Maquis. The armaments and shields had been tweaked to broadcast false signals that made the ship appear weaker than it truly was. As a matter of fact, that’s what caused the current situation.
The Orion Raiders were notorious for awaiting weaker ships along popular space-lanes. They would then swarm in, pelt the vessel with phaser fire, and the occasional photon torpedo. Once the vessel was disabled demands for surrendered would be broadcast. Usually the raiders took anything of value, leaving the vessel with only enough power and supplies to limp to the nearest outpost.
Satisfied that the Juno was still in top condition after so long, Riker decided to end the game. His corkscrew had brought him up behind the less maneuverable vessels that the raiders piloted. Entering the priority sequence, Thomas then activated the combat protocols. The Juno’s computer began targeting vital areas of the raider’s ships: The Engines, shields and weapons banks.
Grinning, Riker punched the sub-light engines to full and pushed his ship into the middle of the raider’s formation. Predictably the two outside vessels peeled off to their respective sides. The point vessel tried to duplicate Riker’s corkscrew only to find that the underside of the Juno had opened her shielded bays and the offending ship was promptly barraged with surgical phaser fire that disabled its engines. Dead in the water, Riker ignored the vessel and banked hard to port, pushing the inertial dampers to their limit. The Juno ignited her forward maneuvering thrusters and seemed to slide behind the second pirate. The forward phasers lit the darkness of space with brilliant beams of coherent energy. With constant pounding, the pirate was soon hailing the Juno. Thomas ignored the call, and continued until that vessel also had its engines offline.
Pulling out of his slide, Riker checked his scanners looking for the third ship. The Juno shuddered under the impact of phasers and warning light the console. Thomas had played with the pirates too long. His shields were down to 55%. His hands once more deftly fluttered over the consoles redirecting power from other systems into his shields. Once more his comm hailed to him. This time Thomas answered the hail. A Dopterian replaced the energy readout on the side view-screen. In a nasally voice the Dopterian spoke louder than was necessary. Probably to be heard over the sparking panels that could be seen in the background. “You will lower your shields Hu-mon! We have reinforcements en route and they will surround your vessel and crush you. Shut down your engines and prepare your cargo for transport.”
Riker smiled into the view-screen. “You seem to be at a disadvantage to be making demands friend. Why don’t you call off your friends before I’m forced to disable your whole group and leave you floating in space.”
With a disgusted grunt, the view-screen returned to the energy readouts, the Dopterian having severed the connection. The Juno began twisting through space, seemingly at random. The phasers of the Dopterian’s ship couldn’t track the erratic movements and soon stopped. Riker couldn’t help but grin. His seemingly random maneuverings had caused the Dopterian to fire on his comrades. With the two vessels further disabled, Thomas began maneuvers that brought him between the two damaged vessels. With quick bursts of power, the Juno’s tractor beam began bringing the two fighters closer together.
Frowning over the warning tone coming from his instruments, Thomas quickly maneuvered between the two damaged pirates. Once more his comm beeped signaling a hail. This time, instead of the smooth, mottled coloring of the Dopterian, Riker was greeted by the wide ridges of a Kressari.
“I am Captain Ken’of of the Smother. You are surrounded. Do not think that we will fail to fire on you simply because you shield yourself with our comrades. You will lower your shields and prepared your cargo for transport.”
“You guys sure are persistent,” Answered Riker. “Tell you what. You gather up your friends and we’ll part amicably. I’ll leave you with your ships intact and go on my way and you can do the same.”
Through out the brief conversation, Riker kept a close look on his scanners. Only one vessel was out of range but that could be fixed with a quick thruster fire.
“You will submit to us Human or you will die. Shut down your engines.”
“Let me think about this a second ok? You’re asking me to give up everything I have.” Reaching over, Riker severed the connection and keyed in the commands for the Juno’s unique tactical maneuver. With the sequence complete, Riker grabbed the seeming archaic restraints and strapped himself in. Once competed he, initiated the thruster fire that would bring the last ship into range. Within seconds the Juno came under fire. When the first phaser hit the shields, the Juno’s main systems shut down. With only life support running at minimum, Riker grasped the restraints and grit his teeth.
The Juno’s program shunted all power to the maneuvering thrusters, shields and weapons. With the thrusters firing in opposing directions the Juno began to spin across all three axes. Phasers and proton torpedoes fired from all over the small craft. When the spinning stopped, power slowly bled back into the ship.
Choking back bile Thomas forced a smile. The sickly coloring slowly drained from his face. The tactic worked. Not a single enemy ship was still functional. The spinning had kept the shields rotating to spread the damage and each ship had been in range to disable. Riker’s only regret was that the inertial dampers had been taken offline. The spinning was worse than the holo-deck recreation program called “Roller Coaster”
Riker felt sorry for the smashed ship’s crew, and hailed them, “Hailing Ken’of of the Smother,” Riker called to them, “are you still alive over there?”
The view-screen remained black but audio came through. “We’re here Human. What do you want?”
“Information, that’s all. I’m looking for an old friend. Since I didn’t destroy your vessel you’ll be up and running in a few hours if you have a descent technician. So why don’t you tell me where I can find a Nausiciaan by the name of Bak’ooth.”
Silence followed. After a few minutes the view-screen flickered to life and the Krassari’s face, which had a look of dread, came into view. Putting on his poker face, Riker stared back impassively.
The ridges above the Krassari’s eyes bobbed up and down. “And what makes you think that I would know where to find this Nausiciaan?”
In reply Riker merely stared at the viewer and targeted the Smother with his phasers. Eyes widening the Kressari tried to keep his eyebrow ridges from climbing his forehead. “Wait! This Nausiciaan, why do you want to find him?”
Riker continued to stare at the view-screen. He powered up his phasers and warning klaxons could be heard over the connection. Ken’of snarled at Riker, “You kill me and you won’t get your answer Human!”
Thomas smiled coldly at the alien. “I’m sure one of your friends knows where Bak’ooth is. When they see your vessel drifting as nothing more than debris I’m sure one of them will be willing to tell me.”
Hanging his head in defeat the ridged face sank so that all Riker could see was the ridge that circled the back of the Krassari’s head. “He’s on Janus IV.”
Flashing his teeth Thomas thanked the captain, and set his course.
The flight to Janus IV would take a little over four hours. Riker thought back over the last few weeks. It all started with his agreeing to become the captain and take command of the USS Ark on its science mission to collect various species of plants and animals and then transport them to the Naissance Dyson Sphere. It had taken four weeks to reach Naissance, and during that time, Thomas had spent much of his time going through Starfleet personnel files. But the first on his list was a mean Nausicaan who had never even set foot on a Starfleet vessel. That was about to change. Riker dozed off, he had to get rested up for what ever events waited for him on Janus IV.
Even from high orbit the surface of Janus IV looked pock-marked. The extensive mining for the rich dylithium veins had wreaked havoc on the planet. Its thin atmosphere was ideal for the Horta that lived there but a bit less hospitable for species used to an “M” class atmosphere. The class L planet had one settlement on it, the rest of the world being utilized for the mining of dylithium.
Because the Federation needed the help, they enlisted the help of the Horta from Janus VI in the same system. Transporting some of the eggs to the L class planet changed the creatures physiology some-what. Still maintaining its silicon based form and abilities it seemed to thrive in the oxygen/argon atmosphere. Regardless of the changes, the Horta had helped the Federation and even thrived. Now, the planet was drained of all of the dylithium and only a few trace metals could be found now and again. The Horta had gone dormant less than a decade before and the planet all but abandoned. Now it was a haven for smugglers and thieves.
Admiral Janeway was going to supply the scientists, but Riker still needed a command crew. The obvious choices were the ones he didn’t want to make. That’s why he had decided on his old Nausiciaan friend, Bak’ooth, as his first officer. Tracking the ornery alien down had been an altogether different problem. Despite the fact that the Nausiciaans had never formerly joined the Maquis, their common enemy of the Cardassians had made them allies on more than one occasion.
Bak’ooth and Riker had struck up an unlikely friendship during the time that they worked together. Bak’ooth was forced to become proficient with the duties of an engineer due to constant under-manning. The easily angered Nausiciaan didn’t like working on the sometimes delicate systems that comprised the ship’s engines. Regardless of that fact, Bak’ooth became a capable and knowledgeable engineer. He was also very abrasive and direct. However, this lack of tact disguised a highly intelligent mind. Bak’ooth, unknown to most of his kind, was also a scientist at heart. Riker had learned of the Nausiciaan’s interest by accident, coming upon the alien in the arboretum upon a Maquis world. A Nausicaan who had an interesting hobby; he was a botonist. Riker promised the giant Nausicaan he would keep it their little secret. Bak’ooth made it clear to Riker; he better.
After taking Jovath to the Dyson-sphere, Riker set off to recover the Juno. Jovath and Janeway had bonded during the flight to Nascence and Riker saw no reason not to leave his son in her care. Farming crabs in the Alaskan waters was not the ideal life for a boy like Jovath. What Jovath had told his father was true. Neither one of them was at home unless they were in space. Wishing his son well, and telling him to take care of things at the Dyson-sphere for him, Thomas left to the junkyards of the Outhorm system.
After claiming the Juno Riker headed to Janus IV. He was glad of the pirates because they had confirmed what he had thought. The confirmation made the trek to the backwater world worth it. Checking the read outs one last time, Riker turned from the console, un-strapped his self from his command chair, and walked toward the rear of the ship. He fingered the scabbard of the katana hanging above his bunk. Then he stepped into the refresher.
At first, Riker thought to take the Juno down to the surface. After extensive thought he decided against landing on the rocky surface. Instead, he would beam down to the outskirts of the settlement and make his way to where he hoped to find Bak’ooth. Picturing the type of folks he might find down there he slipped a type one phaser into his waistband and strapped the katana across his back for a visible show of force. Like the Klingons, the beings that frequented these back water outposts often responded better to a physical up-close and personal style of weapon better than to a phaser.
Knowing his friend’s fondness for a good game of Dom-jot, Riker hoped to find him here at the un-sanctioned championship. Similar to the game called Billiards from Earth’s past but played on a table with irregular geometric patterns, Dom-jot was enjoyed by many peoples and races. Bak’ooth happened to love the game. Because of the location of the outpost, and the fact that the Federation had virtually abandoned it after the dylithium ran out, the place had become a good place for someone to try their luck and change the cards life had dealt. Usually, beings came here with little in their pockets and left with less. Others had made their fortunes here. Fewer of them actually made it off-planet.
The smoke, and aroma, of several narcotic drugs, some legal, but most not, scented the air of the bar. Darkness was broken by the occasional strobe light pulsating near by. Loud music, Andorian, Riker surmised, blared loudly. Riker received several nods of approval, having met some of the other visitors during his time in the Maquis. Above the bar were two dance cages. In one of them an alien, from a species Riker had never seen, could be seen gyrating its several limbs to the rhythm of the music. The other dance cage contained two Bajoran females engaging in sexual acts, cheered on by the riotous crowd. Riker was tempted to watch the show, but he wasn’t here for pleasure this time.
He made his way through the throng toward the Dom-jot hall that was located at the end of the club. At that moment, as he neared the entrance to the hall, a Gorn came crashing through the entrance, landing on a table next to Riker. The crowd paid no attention at the sight of the large reptilian, still clutching a dom-jot stick. Crashing through the table, and on to the ground, the dead Gorn lay there twitching in death, credits jingling out of his pockets. A small monkey-like creature scampered over the huge Gorn, a being massive even by the standards of its own race, and began scooping up the loose credits and depositing them into a small pouch attached to its waist. Reaching into the pockets of the scaled creature, the monkey being grabbed the remaining credits and hurried back into the dom-jot hall.
Riker stepped over the dead creature, giving it a cursory glance as he went into the hall. The list of beings that could hurl such a massive Gorn was exceedingly small. Stepping into the dimly lit hall, accented by the sounds of several dom-jot tables and the accompanying conversation, Riker became even more alert than before. There was a smoky haze that filled the hall. There were eight Dom’jot tables, and each was in a various stage of the game, except one. Apparently the Gorn had just lost, or worse, and the table was being reset for another game.
Several dozen bystanders, and hopeful players, crowded the room as well. Large stacks of credits were stacked on each table, wagers for the games. In a place like this, stealing someone’s credits could get you killed. Riker watched as the small monkey returned the credits to a group of four Nausicanns. The Gorn had paid with his life for cheating a Nausicaan.
Riker turned his attention to the Nausicaans. The four of them were a motley group. He could see that much by the fact that no one dared to stand next to their spot along the long bar. And it was clear the bartender behind the bar was sure to serve them on a moment’s notice. One of the four Nausicaan’s was taller than the rest, and Riker recognized him instantly; Bak’ooth.
The three other Nausicaans noticed Riker first, and they approached him in an intimidating manner. The one on the middle spoke.
“Human! Leave…now.” His voice spoke in the usual Nausicaan disjointedness way.
Bak’ooth, who was conversing with the bartender, turned to join his comrades, and then he saw the face of the human. The massive Nausicaan, tilting his head to the left, finally recognized his old friend. He charged toward his three comrades, and shoved past them. He stood in front of Riker and stared down at him. Then he reached down and took Riker into his arms and hugged his old friend.
Riker thought, for a moment, he was going to die. He barely had enough breath to speak, “Bak’ooth,” Riker managed to say, “you’re killing me.”
The Nausicaan laughed loudly and put the gasping human back down on the ground. The other Nausicaans were ready to charge, but Bak’ooth held up his hand, motioning for them to stop. He pointed to Riker as he spoke to his Nausicaan comrades, “He is Nausicaan.”
The greatest compliment a Nausicaan would give another, even an outsider like Riker, would be to call them Nausicaan as well. Nausicaans had no friends, just other Nausicaans. The other three bowed their heads quickly to Riker and turned back to the bar to guzzle down the drinks in their mugs.
Bak’ooth motioned for Riker to follow him. Things never seemed to change. Bak’ooth and Riker were both short of words, which is why they seemed to get along so well. Bak’ooth motioned for Riker to look through a passageway. The only ‘door’ was several strings of beads. Riker peered into the room. Inside was a massive bed covered by three totally nude Nausicaan women. Huge themselves, the three alien women smiled, showing the sharp teeth common to all of their race. Primped and posed in what Riker was sure were alluring poses for Nausiciaans, Riker never the less looked at Bak’ooth with regret. The females, rumbled deep in their throats. Riker looked back and flashed them a disarming smile and an approving nod. This seemed to settle them somewhat but he still needed Bak’ooth to settle the three.
“I can’t old friend,” Riker said, with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. He looked up to his friend and said, “I’ve come here because I need your help.”
Minutes later the two friends were standing in a back alley behind the seedy joint. Despite the thick walls and the noise cancellers, the loud music could still be heard pulsating through the bitter night. Riker looked down the dark alley ignoring the refuse and excrement, the odors and the sounds. It was not a place one would want to frequent, unless, of course, you were standing with a nearly eight foot tall Nausicaan.
“My…help? Bak’ooth asked.
Riker nodded. It took a little getting used to the broken language of the Nausiciaans, but it could be done. It merely required patience. It also came with the understanding that, in a conflict, you may just have to understand a primal roar. It was a fair exchange.
Riker explained the whole concept of Project Naissance. He also told of his worry, but how he wanted to help the woman named Janeway. He also mentioned that Jovath had come along, and was with Janeway on Naissance.
Bak’ooth seemed concerned at the mention of Jovath. “Much danger... Why bring the little Riker, Riker?” He paused then continued, knowing that Jovath was special to him as well, “Jovath is Nausicaan.”
The two old friends stood in silence. Riker finally added the cherry on the top. “I brought the Juno.’ He said in a teasing voice. “She’s yours if you come.”
Years earlier Bak’ooth had lost a high stakes poker game where the pot included information on how to acquire the Juno. Riker won that game, beating not only Bak’ooth, but several others as well. During his time in the Maquis, Riker used the Juno often with Bak’ooth as co-pilot. Bak’ooth loved the ship as the destructive potential fit well with the Nausiciaan’s personality.
Bak’ooth smiled a toothy smile. In his characteristic disjointed speech he said, “Juno yours. But I use. I will be at planet for launch.”
“Not a planet, Dyson-sphere.” Riker corrected him.
Bak’ooth tilted his head, then retorted, “I will be… at the… big planet in time for launch.”
Smiling in return and happy to be re-united with his friend Riker made one more request of his large friend, “The Juno’s in orbit, old friend. You know the codes to activate the transporter. I’ll meet you at Naissance. By the way, two more of the crew will be at Starbase 218 in about one week. You might want to check up on them while you’re on the way. Give them a good once-over as it were. See you in two weeks.” Riker took two steps and then added, “Where can I book passage off this rock?”
Two hours later Riker had booked passage on a Pakled barge heading toward Deep Space Four. From there he would make his way to Naissance. He was happy that Bak’ooth had accepted his offer. Convincing Janeway to give the Nausicaan a commissioned post wasn’t going to be easy, but Riker was confident the Admiral would live up to her word. Picard’s obvious worry would be in the back of Riker’s mind, and having Bak’ooth aboard to watch his back, made Riker feel more at ease.
