Prologue: A Rescuer's Soul
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager. The characters of LTJG Carl Peter Stevens and LT Deborah Kinnian are my creation
A/N: This story doesn't take place in the same timeline as my rather controversial Shadows of the War fic and takes place in the alternate unverse of my fic Dark Realm.
---
"There is a legend of a man who lives beneath the sea. He is a fisher of men, the last hope of all those who have been left behind. Many survivors claim to have felt his gripping hands beneath them; pushing them up to the surface; whispering strength until help could arrive. But this, of course, is only a legend." ASTCS (NAC/SAR) Benjamin Randall, US Coast Guard, 2006.
---
Starfleet Academy, 2362: "First squad." Cadet David Gilbert, the squad leader for a squad of ten cadets, "listen up. This is Ensign Deborah Kinnian, recently graduated. To be like her is your long term goal. Getting comissioned isn't a short term goal. It's a long term goal. Especially long term for you plebes..."
"Thanks David." Deborah replied. She was a Caucasian woman with a suntanned complexion, with clear blue eyes and a lean frame: "I just graduated a few months ago. And what Cadet Whitehurst was saying is very important. Dreams are what keep you going through some of the tough times you're sure to face. I always dreamed about piloting small craft, of being a pilot and that's where I'm going to next. To train to fly. What are some of your dreams? Cadet Davidson?"
"I want to be an engineer, sir." Cadet Lonnie Davidson replied.
"Why engineering?" Deborah asked.
"I've been interested in technology since I was a boy, sir."
"What about you, Cadet Mokolo?"
"I want to go into exo-biology, sir." The large African replied.
"Is there any particular reason you're interested in exo-biology?" Deborah asked.
"My parents worked all over Africa studying the wildlife of the area. Their field was of interest to me but I wanted to see what life exists off earth, sir." Mokolo replied.
"What about you Cadet Stevens?" Deborah asked.
"I want to go into Search and Rescue, sir." Stevens replied.
"You know that the training pipeline has one of the highest failure rates in Starfleet, right?" Cadet Gilbert intervened.
"Yes sir. I'm aware of it." Stevens replied.
"Why are you interested in Search and Rescue?" Deborah asked.
"I was drawn to the motto: So Others May Live." Stevens replied.
"Good luck Mr. Stevens." Deborah replied.
---
"It's been said that the 3rd Battalion, First Order got the best of the war. We also got the worst. On New Grozny the the Maquis dug their heels into the many great cities on that colony world and dared the Cardasssian Union to come after them. So we did. Only to be met with month after month of brutal street to street combat, sudden ambushes, and violent house by house actions. We treated them to a dose of our motto: Death to All." - Anonymous Cardassian Soldier.
New Grozny Colony, Demilitarized Zone, 2371: Lieutenant Deborah Kinnian opened her eyes slowly and surveyed the wreckage of the inside of her Runabout, USS Thames. She could see Lieutenant j.g. Fowler, the co-pilot, was dead. His face had been smashed against the instrument panel.
She turned around and saw that both of the two Search and Rescue specialists in the back of the craft were dead. Both of them had been thrown clear of their seats by the shock of the crash.
She moved her body cautiously to check for injuries. Aside from a shallow but bloody cut above her left eye she seemed to be alright.
Already she could see that the Thames was completely unserviceable. The fuel cells had likely been ruptured in the crash and the beeping sound that had awakened her was letting her know that an explosion was imminent.
She grabbed a small survival bag and said a silent prayer for the three dead crewmembers before getting out of the wreck.
The mission to recover a Starfleet Intelligence Agent who had vital information on both Cardassian and Maquis intentions in the DMZ had gone horribly wrong. The last thing she remembered was a Cardassian micro-torpedo headed right for the runabout and the sudden impact. It was as she and Fowler fought to control the Runabout's violent descent that she had blacked out.
She tried to get comms with the USS Sentinel, operating on the Federation side of the DMZ. No signal.
It was around that same moment that the small readout screen on the tactical tricorder on her hip flashed to life.
She grabbed it and saw a text message: Forget trying to contact the Sentinel. There's a Cardassian barrage jamming field all over this whole area.
She ran the last few hundred meters away from the wrecked runabout before it exploded. Who was this guy...
She put in a reply and sent it. Who are you? How do you know all of this?
The reply came swiftly: That's not important right now. What is important is the Cardassians are sure to be very interested in Starfleet pilots carrying out clandestine missions in the DMZ. I'm betting fairly good money that the Obsidian Order interrogators would be especially willing to get a hold of you. And don't think that the peace treaty will mean that they won't make you disappear or claim you were already dead when they got a hold of you. I'm willing to help you but you must listen.
Deborah composed a reply as she looked worriedly: How do I know you're not just going to lead me into their hands?
A reply was quickly forthcoming: Four words that I take seriously: So Others May Live...Now you'd best get going. I can see you but you can't see me. I can thus see the Cardassian patrol that is heading for the wreckage as we speak. There's an arroyo about six kilometers away. It should provide enough shelter for the rest of the day.
Deborah could hear the sounds of the Cardassians moving around the brush. She moved quietly as she remembered lessons from the Starfleet survival course. She hunkered down in a shallow depression as a Cardassian soldier walked by. He scanned the area and Deborah willed herself to be as quiet as she could. She could hear her heartbeat hammering in her ears and was convinced the Cardassian standing right next to the depression could hear it.
The Cardassian moved away and it was several long moments before she began her trek towards that arroyo her mysterious rescuer had just recommended...
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager. The characters of LTJG Carl Peter Stevens and LT Deborah Kinnian are my creation
A/N: This story doesn't take place in the same timeline as my rather controversial Shadows of the War fic and takes place in the alternate unverse of my fic Dark Realm.
---
"There is a legend of a man who lives beneath the sea. He is a fisher of men, the last hope of all those who have been left behind. Many survivors claim to have felt his gripping hands beneath them; pushing them up to the surface; whispering strength until help could arrive. But this, of course, is only a legend." ASTCS (NAC/SAR) Benjamin Randall, US Coast Guard, 2006.
---
Starfleet Academy, 2362: "First squad." Cadet David Gilbert, the squad leader for a squad of ten cadets, "listen up. This is Ensign Deborah Kinnian, recently graduated. To be like her is your long term goal. Getting comissioned isn't a short term goal. It's a long term goal. Especially long term for you plebes..."
"Thanks David." Deborah replied. She was a Caucasian woman with a suntanned complexion, with clear blue eyes and a lean frame: "I just graduated a few months ago. And what Cadet Whitehurst was saying is very important. Dreams are what keep you going through some of the tough times you're sure to face. I always dreamed about piloting small craft, of being a pilot and that's where I'm going to next. To train to fly. What are some of your dreams? Cadet Davidson?"
"I want to be an engineer, sir." Cadet Lonnie Davidson replied.
"Why engineering?" Deborah asked.
"I've been interested in technology since I was a boy, sir."
"What about you, Cadet Mokolo?"
"I want to go into exo-biology, sir." The large African replied.
"Is there any particular reason you're interested in exo-biology?" Deborah asked.
"My parents worked all over Africa studying the wildlife of the area. Their field was of interest to me but I wanted to see what life exists off earth, sir." Mokolo replied.
"What about you Cadet Stevens?" Deborah asked.
"I want to go into Search and Rescue, sir." Stevens replied.
"You know that the training pipeline has one of the highest failure rates in Starfleet, right?" Cadet Gilbert intervened.
"Yes sir. I'm aware of it." Stevens replied.
"Why are you interested in Search and Rescue?" Deborah asked.
"I was drawn to the motto: So Others May Live." Stevens replied.
"Good luck Mr. Stevens." Deborah replied.
---
"It's been said that the 3rd Battalion, First Order got the best of the war. We also got the worst. On New Grozny the the Maquis dug their heels into the many great cities on that colony world and dared the Cardasssian Union to come after them. So we did. Only to be met with month after month of brutal street to street combat, sudden ambushes, and violent house by house actions. We treated them to a dose of our motto: Death to All." - Anonymous Cardassian Soldier.
New Grozny Colony, Demilitarized Zone, 2371: Lieutenant Deborah Kinnian opened her eyes slowly and surveyed the wreckage of the inside of her Runabout, USS Thames. She could see Lieutenant j.g. Fowler, the co-pilot, was dead. His face had been smashed against the instrument panel.
She turned around and saw that both of the two Search and Rescue specialists in the back of the craft were dead. Both of them had been thrown clear of their seats by the shock of the crash.
She moved her body cautiously to check for injuries. Aside from a shallow but bloody cut above her left eye she seemed to be alright.
Already she could see that the Thames was completely unserviceable. The fuel cells had likely been ruptured in the crash and the beeping sound that had awakened her was letting her know that an explosion was imminent.
She grabbed a small survival bag and said a silent prayer for the three dead crewmembers before getting out of the wreck.
The mission to recover a Starfleet Intelligence Agent who had vital information on both Cardassian and Maquis intentions in the DMZ had gone horribly wrong. The last thing she remembered was a Cardassian micro-torpedo headed right for the runabout and the sudden impact. It was as she and Fowler fought to control the Runabout's violent descent that she had blacked out.
She tried to get comms with the USS Sentinel, operating on the Federation side of the DMZ. No signal.
It was around that same moment that the small readout screen on the tactical tricorder on her hip flashed to life.
She grabbed it and saw a text message: Forget trying to contact the Sentinel. There's a Cardassian barrage jamming field all over this whole area.
She ran the last few hundred meters away from the wrecked runabout before it exploded. Who was this guy...
She put in a reply and sent it. Who are you? How do you know all of this?
The reply came swiftly: That's not important right now. What is important is the Cardassians are sure to be very interested in Starfleet pilots carrying out clandestine missions in the DMZ. I'm betting fairly good money that the Obsidian Order interrogators would be especially willing to get a hold of you. And don't think that the peace treaty will mean that they won't make you disappear or claim you were already dead when they got a hold of you. I'm willing to help you but you must listen.
Deborah composed a reply as she looked worriedly: How do I know you're not just going to lead me into their hands?
A reply was quickly forthcoming: Four words that I take seriously: So Others May Live...Now you'd best get going. I can see you but you can't see me. I can thus see the Cardassian patrol that is heading for the wreckage as we speak. There's an arroyo about six kilometers away. It should provide enough shelter for the rest of the day.
Deborah could hear the sounds of the Cardassians moving around the brush. She moved quietly as she remembered lessons from the Starfleet survival course. She hunkered down in a shallow depression as a Cardassian soldier walked by. He scanned the area and Deborah willed herself to be as quiet as she could. She could hear her heartbeat hammering in her ears and was convinced the Cardassian standing right next to the depression could hear it.
The Cardassian moved away and it was several long moments before she began her trek towards that arroyo her mysterious rescuer had just recommended...