All,
Here we are, the final chapter of Volume II of the Star Trek: Restoration saga. I've enjoyed all your feedback and hope you've enjoyed the story.
As already mentioned above, I will be putting the Restoration story on hold for the next month as I participate in the NAtional NOvel WRIting MOnth. So no new Restoration until 1st December.
If any of you are interested in following my progress during nanowrimo and reading some extracts from my novel, Soulreaper, you can do so on my blog: http://treachery-treason-and-deceit.blogspot.com/
Hope as many of you as possible will post your feedback and comments on this final chapter!
Thanks,
Joel
Chapter 16
Captain’s Log, 3rd April 2631. We have completed final reparations to Redemption
following the encounter with the Klingons at Opiucus. Our last crew members and passengers are onboard, and we have made contact with three support craft that will be accompanying us. One final ship, the Highlands
, will meet us at Khitomer before our final jump to Laurentii space.
It has been a hard three weeks, for everyone. But I want to go on the record here and now to say how proud I am of this crew. They have pulled together despite their differences, and done what seemed impossible. I am sure they will continue to do so in the days to come as we finally launch this mission to the Hegemony…
Ba’el Sarine’s Quarters
USS Redemption
Starfleet Construction Yards
In Orbit of Romulus
0700 hours
“It is 0700 hours.”
The familiar sound of the computer pulled Ba’el Sarine from his nightmare. As always, it lingered a moment, but even if it hadn’t, Ba’el had had this bad dream so many times that he could have recited it – word for word, image for image.
In the dream, he was back on the bridge of the
Enterprise. Smoke obscured everything, rending the bridge in shadows and ghost, but he knew that his crew were there around him somewhere. His ship rocked as the Dominion ships pounded them desperately, trying to stop them from completing their mission. It was as if they had known what they were planning.
The Founder’s homeworld dominated the viewscreen before him.
From somewhere within the smoke, a voice called out, “Within range, Captain.”
At this point, Ba’el always hesitated, just as he had in real life. Then he gave the order.
“Fire.”
The three torpedoes erupted from beneath
Enterprise’s saucer section, whirling flashes of red energy that split from one another as they entered the atmosphere. Ba’el followed their progress even as they vanished from view. Then he waited.
Waited as the ship seemed to tear herself apart beneath him.
Waited as everyone on the bridge seemed to hold their breaths.
Waited as the weapons he had designed and perfected neared their target.
“Five seconds to target,” a disemboied voice echoed from the smoke. “Four… Three… Two… Impact.”
In reality, he remembered asking for a progress report, in his dreams he stayed silent. In reality, explosions rocked the ship as the Dominion continued to fire on them, in his dreams a strange unsettling silence fell over the bridge. In reality he was too focused on survival to watch his brainchild do its job, in his dreams he couldn’t watch anything else.
It began. At first there was no more than a single spot of dark amongst the gold. As the moments passed, that spot began to grow, to engulf the planet below. And as the Founders died en masse, in his dreams their screams began to echo through the bridge.
Now that he was awake, Ba’el wiped a hand across his face. It came away covered in sweat. Since he had come onboard
Redemption, he had not had the nightmare. The last time had been…
Had been the day that Admiral Kovat called him and offered him command. Ba’el wondered whether the fact that the nightmare had returned on the day of the launch was supposed to be a sign. His father had always said that the ancestors had a dark sense of humour.
He lay there for a few more moments, waiting for the last vestiges of the dream to fade away. Once they had, he slid out of bed and walked over to the small fresher unit. He splashed water on his face and glanced in the mirror. As he did, he received another sudden flash, a mental image from a month before.
He had stood in front of a mirror just like this the day Jar had called him. He had changed a lot in the intervening weeks. The eyes that had looked back at him then had been haunted, bloodshot, dead. Now they seemed alive, though still a little haunted from his dream. His hair, which had been long and unkempt, was cut short and clean. He stepped back – he had gained a few pounds and his belly wasn’t sunken like a famine victim anymore. He hardly looked like the same man.
I’m not, he realised. However he might have fought against it, he had to admit that Jar had been right. As long as he had stayed in that house, he had been stuck in the past. The fact that the nightmare had been a constant companion until he arrived onboard this ship was proof enough of that. Somehow, despite everything that happened, he had found a way to move on. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“The time is 0715 hours,” the computer chimed, bringing him back to the here and now. Ba’el smiled. He had ordered a second reminder in case the first didn’t wake him. Today was the day of the launch. He couldn’t afford to be late.
Shaking his head, he walked over to his closest. It was time to put on his uniform and get out there. He wanted to check in with every department before the launch.
Nightmare or not, he was going to make the most of this day.
Main Engineering
1020 hours
“Commander Kane?”
Without any sign that he had heard her, Kane retracted his tubules. He turned. A young ensign stood by his side, holding a diagnostic padd. She was young and human and very, very pink. He saw her flinch slightly as his ocular implant played a red light over her cheek.
“Ensign.”
She winced again. His voice must have become mechanical again.
I’ve spent too long connected to the computer. This was not the first time a non-assimilated crewmember had reacted this way.
Remembering what Ba’el had said to him the day before, he recalibrated his voice implants, forcing a little humanity into his voice. “How may I help you, ensign?”
She seemed to relax slightly. “Sir, something has changed. In the main core memory.”
“The anomaly,” he said immediately.
She nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Show me.”
He followed her to a console. Her hand trembled slightly as she called up a holographic readout.
Perhaps she is cold. Perhaps she is afraid. There was a 95% chance that it was the latter. He dismissed the thought out of hand. Whatever Ba’el said, they were going to have to get used to serving alongside the Borg.
He looked up at the readout. The first sign that his primary human programming was reasserting itself after his immersion in
Redemption’s computer systems was the slight febrile fear that ran down his spine at what he saw.
“It has grown.”
“Yes sir.” He detected a tremor in her voice.
“Have there been any further changes?”
The young ensign shook her head and looked at him. “Not that I can-“
She stopped as Kane lifted a hand, his eyes fixed on the readout. She turned and gasped.
Four words had appeared on the holo-screen.
Greetings. Where am I?
“What is that?” she asked. Yes, a definite tremor in her voice. She needed reassurance. It was a shame that Kane had none to give her.
After a moment of processing the information in his neural implants, he shook his head and fell back on his Borg programming. “Insufficient information to make a diagnosis.”
In human terms… He had no idea.
Storage Bay Nine
1546 hours
Glancing carefully from one side to the other, Keene stepped into the storage bay.
In the two days since his discussion with Lady J’tar aboard the Klingon ship, Keene had been waiting impatiently for some kind of signal from his new ally. The signal had only come through the night before, a padd left on his desk in sickbay, asking him for a meeting in this specific storage bay at this exact time.
He had brought a tricorder with him just in case it was a set up, and he pulled it out now, scanning the bay's interior. Nothing. Whoever his contact was, they hadn't arrived yet.
Moving over behind one of the canisters, Keene sat down on a lowloader and settled in to wait. As it had a lot over the past few days, his mind began to wander back to his conversation with Lady J’tar. He had always known that one day he would be called upon to give his life for the Empire. He had not expected this to be that mission, though. He couldn't quite decide how he felt about it.
The mission itself made perfect sense, of course. After all, what better way to end any chance of an alliance between the Federation and the Hegemony than by having one of their own kill one of the Laurentii?
All Keene had to do was find a way of killing Kalara and convincing everyone else that he was her for as long as it took to kill the Laurentii target. A holographic matrix wouldn't suffice this time. Luckily, the ‘device’ would be perfect. He had stored it in one of the lower cargobays, disguised as medical equipment. Ready for use whenever he needed it. Though painful, the process would be flawless.
When to make the change, though? Not before they reached the Hegemony, that was for sure. The less time he had to spend convincing people that he was Kalara, the better. The difficulty, though, would be in…
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door into the bay sliding open. He tensed, wondering how he could be sure that this was his contact. He quickly realised that he couldn't. He would just have to take the chance. If it wasn't his contact, he could always claim that he was checking the containers for contaminents before the launch.
When he stepped out of his hiding place and saw who was waiting there, he was sure that he had made a mistake. Of all the people he had expected to see,
she was the last one on his list. It had to be mistake. Then she smiled.
"Operative L’Goth? My name is Underhill. I hear we have some work to do."
Keene could only stare as the woman began to laugh.
Bridge
1713 hours
Jasto stepped out onto the bridge.
The whole bridge crew had gathered for the occasion, filling every square metre from the upper level down to the Pit. Everyone wore a grin - or their cultural equivalent - and held a glass of some kind of synthohol in their hands. Holographic waiters transferred from the Alpha Quadrant program wandered the tight space, carrying trays.
Accepting a glass of sythetic champagne, Jasto allowed himself a moment to enjoy himself. This would be his first launch party and as a Trill with a symbiont as old as Dax, there weren't many things he could experience for the first time. He was looking around for Tania, who he hadn’t seen since leaving her quarters that morning, when he heard a voice behind him.
"Lieutenant-Commander."
He turned to see Doctor Malok approaching through the crowd. The big Klingon didn’t even seem to realise that everyone was stepping out of his way as he advanced. Jasto smiled.
"Good evening, doctor."
"Good evening." The Klingon glanced around as he stopped a few steps away. "It is difficult to move in here."
Jasto hid a smile by taking a sip from his glass. "I would imagine it is," he said. He looked around again. "It's good to see so many people having fun."
"Yes. There haven't been many reasons for celebration since the end of the Occupation."
"Less than we all imagined."
Doctor Malok looked at him askance, then laughed. "Sometimes I forget that you lived through the end of the Occupation just like I did."
Thoughts of the end of the Occupation led inexorably to Haebron. Jasto forced a smile. "In a way."
Although Malok seemed to sense his unease and changed the subject, Jasto regretted it almost immediately.
“I wanted to talk to you about Lieutenant Williams.”
“Oh?” Jasto said, trying to keep his voice calm.
Things with the lieutenant had been surprisingly easy since their ‘encounter’. Once she had come back to active duty, she had acted in a professional manner, never once mentioning what had happened in sickbay, to him or anyone else. Jasto had actually begun to relax around her for the first time since discovering her presence onboard. Now, though, he wondered whether all this time she had been playing the patience game, preparing an ambush with the doctor.
His fear turned to relief, though, when the doctor smiled. “I’m sure you remember that I did not want to let you talk to her that day, but now I think I should thank you. She has been a different woman ever since, as if she had gained a new purpose.” He looked at Jasto. “Whatever you said to her worked.”
Jasto didn’t know what to say. A new purpose? He opened his mouth, but was saved from saying anything when a shrill whistle pierced the general hubbub.
Both men followed everyon else, turning to the rear of the bridge to see Captain Sarine step out of the turbolift, Commander Ly’et, Commander Turner and Lieutenant-Commander Kane at his side. Jasto would have sworn that he saw an angry look cross the captain’s face as Commander Ly’et said something from behind him, but it vanished so quickly that he could have imagined it. Still, the commander did not look happy about something. Nor did Kane for that matter.
What’s going on?
“Captain on deck,” one of the security officers shouted, though the whistle had already gained most people’s attention. Everyone started to bang fingers on glasses, an ancient custom to welcome a new commander on deck. Out of the corner of his eye, Jasto caught a glimpse of Commander Kalara and Ambassador Benjamani drawing closer. Neither of them seemed happy either, though the reason for their feelings were more obvious.
The captain smiled at the reception, though Jasto still thought it looked a little forced. “At ease, people.”
Everyone relaxed slightly, though remaining relatively formal as Captain Sarine stepped up to the railing and looked around at his crew.
“It’s good to see so many of you on the bridge, though I do wonder who is staffing the rest of the ship.” The joke drew a small ripple of laughter. “I’m sure most of you know me by now as your captain, Ba’el Sarine. I’m not a man for speeches, and I never have been. All I have to say is that you have all done wonders over the past few weeks in getting this ship ready for launch. I have never seen such a disparate group of people coming together in such a short time and working so well and so closely together. I’m sure I speak for Starfleet Command as a whole when I say thank you.”
The applause was more forthcoming than the laughter. Captain Sarine waited for a few seconds, then lifted his hands to quieten everyone.
“But our mission is just starting.” He glanced behind him at the three officers who had accompanied him in the turbolift. The look lasted a moment, then he faced forward again. “A friend of mine once told me that
Redemption is going to be leading the first real mission of this new Federation. And
when we look back on the charter of the first Federation, that was their guiding star. The
Titan. The Voyager. Even the
Enterprise.” As usual, an uneasy feeling fell over everyone at mention of
Enterprise. The captain pushed on regardless. “This was what they did. Discovering and befriending new life and new civilisations. We are taking the first steps in making that dream a reality once again. I for one am proud to be leading this crew and I hope that you will be just as proud to serve onboard this ship.”
The applause was almost overwhelming this time. At one point, Jasto wondered whether it was ever going to stop. Once it did, the captain nodded to them all.
“Thank you for that. But what do you say we get this show on the road?”
A ripple of laughter ran through the attending officers as Prin Ly’et stepped forward. “All officers not scheduled for bridge duty are invited to enjoy the festivities in the Alpha Quadrant. As for the rest of you…” She smiled. “Stations.”
There was a sudden burst of movement as everyone headed for their stations, or for the turbolifts. Jasto turned to Malok and handed him his glass of champagne. Malok accepted it gladly, then bowed his head.
“Good sailing,” the doctor said.
“Thank you, doctor.”
Turning away, he descended the steps into the Pit. Lieutenant Williams had already taken a seat at the conn and for a moment Jasto thought back on what Malok had said. Why would she have reacted so positively to their encounter? He wondered whether it had been as healing for her as it had been for him. He hoped that was what it was.
Settling into his position at Ops, Jasto enjoyed the feel of the seat beneath him. He reached up and activated the holo-interface, settled the headset over his skull and turned to look at the captain.
Sitting in his own chair, Sarine took a moment to drop the viewfinder down over his eye. Commander Ly’et took her position stood behind him and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. The captain grinned, then looked at the three operations officers – Jasto at Ops, Lieutenant Williams at the conn and Ensign Q’sar at the navigation’s position.
“Are we ready gentlemen?”
“Yes sir,” they said in chorus.
“All stations report ready?” Commander Ly’et asked Jasto who glanced at his screen, then nodded.
“All stations ready.”
“Is our course laid in?”
“Affirmative,” the Vulcan ensign said from navigation.
“Conn?”
“We’re ready to go, Captain.”
The captain nodded. “Good.” He looked around at them all, as if he wanted to imprint the moment on his mind. Then he smiled.
“Take her out, Mister Dax. Onyx Station is waiting.”
So ends Star Trek: Restoration Volume II – Aftermath
Volume III – Onyx will be coming to a trekbbs near you in December 2009