Starship Kir'Shara - Memento Mori

[ares93]

Starship Kir'Shara - Memento Mori

The Borg Invasion of 2381 was the spark that ignited the most destructive era in Federation history, perhaps even in the history of the Milky Way galaxy. In three decades the galaxy was reduced to ashes. With more than a dozen worlds wiped out, more than 40 percent of the Federation Alliance fleet destroyed, over 63 billion souls dead. Every major power in the Alpha quadrant was effectively crippled. The invasion destabilized the region and with the Federation in such a state, they were unable to keep the peace.

Seeing the wisdom of the Federation's example, the Typhoon Pact emerged from the rubble, an alliance with their own currency and a united government, consisting of races openly hostile against the Federation. In response, the Federation expanded the Khitomer Accords, inviting the Ferengi Alliance, the Talarian Republic, the Cardassian Union and the breakaway Romulan faction, The Imperial Romulan State into the alliance.

The short lived war between the Khitomer Alliance and the Typhoon Pact was settled with a stalemate. Neither side could turn the table on the other. A peace treaty was signed after three months of war. But both sides had been already decimated.

Five years later, in 2387, the Hobus Event, a star gone nova in the Beta quadrant destroyed Romulus and Remus, the core planets of the Romulan Star Empire. The Hobus Event was the fuel on the fire. As the Empire collapsed, the Klingons saw their chance. The power vacuum left by the Romulans permitted them to expand their empire. The Federation council officially condemned their actions and the Klingon High Council answered by cutting off all diplomatic ties and withdrawing from the Khitomer Accords. With one of the two founding members of the Khitomer Alliance gone, the alliance was weakened beyond recognition…

26 years later the Alpha and Beta quadrants are still in disarray. It is neither war nor peace, minor incursions and border skirmishes are common but there has been no major attack since the Forth Battle of Deep Space Nine in 2409.

It is in a time like this, the Starship Kir’Shara, the third vessel to bear the name, starts its mission. To continue the mission of peace, in a time of war. New friends are found, old friends are lost and an enemy from within, presumed destroyed and long forgotten, returns.



Authors note:

Memento Mori is the first story in the Starship Kir'Shara Relaunch. This is the first part that is written in English and I've decided to not translate the other five stories. The voyage of the Kir'Shara will begin with this story.

However, there is a short vignette that I wrote for the November challenge that takes place a few months before Memento Mori. It can be found here:
http://www.trekbbs.com/showthread.php?t=132877

This story is not yet finished but I'll post parts on a, hopefully, regular basis. I have a lot of work ahead of me at the moment but I figured I'd post what I have.

Thanks to:
Rush Limborg for beta reading and grammar correction.

Sarah 'Davis' for giving me a hand in setting up the Starship Kir'Shara's universe.

 

[ares93]

Scroll 1 and 12, Life Journal of Sonturan.

Written Year 0, Pegasi Primary Calendar / 8217 BC, Terran (old) calendar


“In the Beginning, there was nothing. Two brothers—Olanab, the light, and Trassk, the darkness—in an effort to balance the Universe, created Pegasi, the world of the mortals.
What neither of them knew was exactly how brutal mortals could be. Trassk enjoyed watching them, but every death was like dagger in Olanab’s heart. One night, when Trassk was asleep, Olanab used his power to create the Tanteque. He gave it life from his own. Seeing what his brother had done, incredible fury filled Trassk. With so much of his power gone, vested into his creation, Olanab had no chance against his brother. He was defeated and descended into the mortal world to live out the rest of his life….

…The Tanteque craved justice—gravely. From its lair, it let a roar of fury envelop the valley below and took off. Its large wings cast a shadow upon the village. Every soul below knew what had a happened, and the people prayed mercy for the soul that had awakened the Tanteque. Like a hawk, the golden bird circled the air hoping to locate its victim. It did not take long, and when it had found him, the Tanteque disappeared. Vanishing into thin air, the golden bird, invisible to the eyes of mortals, reached its target. Like the sea winds, invisible but deadly, it struck down its victim—the criminal, now captured in its claws, who had without conscience injured and robbed an innocent child—who had awakened the Tantaque with its crime. Now, he begged for his life. The Tanteque looked down at the man with its flaming red eyes. It brought the captured man to the Abyss, the place of eternal suffering. Disgust and contempt—that is what it felt. Its protégé, the innocent, and the righteous would be protected from men like the one now captured in the Abyss. Olanab’s legacy, the Tanteque, the protector of the righteous, returned to it lair to sleep until called upon again. Remember, those who read these words…one wrongful action is all that it needs.”




Planetary Database, United Federation of Planets.
Pegasi Prime:

Location: Videm sector, Alpha quadrant
Planetary Capital: Kendam, City of
Government: Republic
Global population: 12.14 billion
Economy: Stable (Pegasi Credit based)
Technology level: Pre-Warp capable (Impulse powered probes have been intercepted.)
Last survey: 2397

Further information:
The Pegasi homeworld is governed by a paramiltary dictatorship. Public executions and military brutality against civilians is an everyday occurrence. The planet has been trapped in a Civil-Cold-war between the Rebel controlled continent New Pegasi and the Government controlled True Pegasi for the last century.
No first contact recommended at this time. The Prime Directive remains in effect.

Captain Jonathan Kamar, USS Infinity. 2397




Transcript of news recording.
Pegasi National News Service (2413, Terran (old) calendar)

Begin transcript.
Female news reporter: It is my pleasure to inform you that our glorious state troops have once again reclaimed control the Pegasi Satellite Network. According to undisclosed sources inside the government and military there was compelling evidence that the rebels were preparing an attack on the capital, risking the lives of millions of innocent Pegasi citizens in the process. President Tronameth could not let that happen. Unconfirmed government sources also claim that the rebels were planning taking Kendam City hostage with the orbital defense platforms. The assault was quick and precise, and no civilian lives were lost whatsoever. Fifty two rebels were killed during the hostilities. Two more were captured alive and are currently being held at an undisclosed location awaiting trial and execution. This is truly a good day for our nation. Evil has once again, been defeated.
End transcript.

 

[ares93]

2413, Terran (old) calendar

Starship Kir’Shara

1200 hours, ship time


“All hands! Attention!” Commander Malcolm Lyle shouted, standing next to the Operations console on the Bridge of the Kir’Shara. His words echoed through the ship-wide transmission. The 28 officers present straightened themselves and stood at attention, just as they were supposed to—as did everyone else aboard the small science vessel Kir’Shara.

“Your turn, Captain.” Lyle said, turning towards Captain Mecren Prin, the Acting Captain and former XO of the Kir'Shara. He flashed her a weak smile for strength, and moved over.

The brunette Bajoran woman, the new commanding officer, took his place next to the console, and spoke. She looked up at her crew, barely able to keep her composure. “Sometimes fate deals us a strange ending…” She began, gathering strength in her own words as she went along.

“On a day of great victory—one we, by all accounts, should be celebrating—when the Core Defense fleet successfully repelled the Klingon sneak attack…we lost our most cherished friend, Captain, and daughter...” She locked eyes with the two Admirals who were present. “This is a day of grief, not celebration. We will not forget Sulhir Vaz…we will not let ourselves forget her ultimate sacrifice. Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly, we are wasting away…yet inwardly we’re being renewed, day by day…. For our light and momentarily troubles are achieving for us—still, an eternal glory…that outweighs them all… Now, we fix our eyes on not what is seen…but what is unseen… For what is seen, is temporary… But what is unseen…is eternal.”

Although Sulhir had not been Bajoran, nor religious, Prin couldn’t but silently add, “Walk with the Prophets, Sully…”

She looked at Lyle and met his gaze. Both knew what they had to do. “Fire!” Prin finally ordered, and as they had been trained, her officers complied.

The matte black torpedo casing carrying Captain Sulhir Vaz’s earthly remains launched into empty space from the Kir’Shara’s forward torpedo tube. The main viewer, controlled by Lieutenant Elaine Johansen, zoomed in on the casing and its registry, NX-93873 USS Kir’Shara, as it slowly drifted away from the Kir’Shara…the last resting place of a Starfleet officer.

“For the stars and to the stars…” The traditional Starfleet burial.

”Attention! Honorary barrage!” Came the finishing order as the torpedo drifted away from the ship, and away from sight. The phaser banks charged and the ship fired four deadly beams into empty space…


Six months later…
City of Kendam, Pegasi Prime
0312 am, local time

There was fire everywhere, and smoke… Suffocating smoke. She can barely breathe. The smell of burned circuitry and flesh stings in her eyes. She throws a final glance at the console in front of her, an alien console. Lights… Lights flashing everywhere. She looks at the scorched remains of a man. Whom, she did not know, only that he was a soldier. With an equally burned weapon strapped to his hip, he sat firmly in the pilot seat. The design of his uniform was barely visible, burned beyond recognition along with his body. The console in front of him was gone, exploded and shattered. She throws a glance out the window, where crimson light is appearing…

Tanteque jolted awake, dripping with sweat. Iro was sitting on an old wooden chair next to her bed. It creaked under his weight as he leaned closer. She looked confused at him for a moment before smiling.

“Sorry, did I wake you again?” she asked kindly, with a warm but ashamed smile.

He shook his head with a smirk. “No, you didn’t.” he said. “I was getting up in five hours anyway…. The nightmares again?”

She hesitated, a bit too confused to answer at first, as Iro moved over to a small desk next to her bed and retrieved a portable computer. “I need to get some work done. You don’t mind, do you?”

As she shook her head, he lowered the brightness on the computers monitor. “This was my study before you stole it, you know.” He smiled.

“Yes,” she sighed and nodded. “The dreams keep coming back. Same one—with the burning cockpit. Both the dungeon and the burning cockpit. What do you think it means?”

Iro looked up from his computer. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I’m no psychologist. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s some sort of bleed-through from…whatever keeps you from remembering your past life.”

He turned the computer towards her. The monitor flashed black for second before a scan of her brain appeared. “You were pretty bad shape when we found you. But according to the scans, there is no brain damage whatsoever. There is no valid medical reason why you shouldn’t remember. Quite frankly, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

“Aside from not remembering a single minute of my life before waking up in this very bed, eight months ago.”

“Yes. That thing in your abdomen, organs I’ve never seen I my life, your lifesigns are off the scale and you have strange spots all over your body. But as I said, there is medically nothing wrong with you. Even those organs I can’t identify work perfectly.” He reconsidered the sentence. “As far as I can tell, that is.” he added.

She said nothing.

“Listen, I know how you feel… – Well, actually I don’t. It’s merely a saying. But that’s not the point. You’ve been living with these nightmares for the last eight months. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to stop it, but one thing is certain.”

“What?”

He smiled. “I’m going to need to buy earplugs.”

For a second Tanteque felt sad, but then she cracked a wide smile. She shook her head. “That bad, eh?” she asked, managing to suppress the laugher.

“I’m afraid so.” he said with a deep sigh. “You were more or less screaming. Almost like you were in pain. That’s why I woke you. It was…scary.”

“Everything was on fire, Iro. I was afraid that my clothes would catch fire too. And that man in the dream… I know him. I don’t know why but in the dream I feel… I don’t know. Regret, that I let it happen.”

He leaned over and took her hand. The small gesture was more reassuring to Tanteque than Iro could have ever imagined. “Try to fall asleep again. I’ll be right here if you need me. In the morning we’ll go to the market. You need some fresh air.”

“Healer’s order’s?” she asked playfully, but complied nonetheless. She turned towards the wall and closed her eyes.

A/N: Eulogy adapted from The Dead Zone Season 6.

 

[ares93]

Back again. Had to take a quick trip downtown. here comes the rest.

USS Kir’Shara, Geosynchronous orbit over Bajor
Captain’s Ready room, Main bridge, Deck

2615 hours, Bajoran time. 2246 hours, ship time

The doorbell chimed and Mecren Prin straightened out her uniform. “Come!” she said.

The doors parted, revealing Commander Malcolm Lyle, her first officer.“You called for me, Captain?” he asked taking a seat after a nod from Prin.

The Bajoran Captain looked up from her padds. Sighing, she shook her head. “Tell me…am I doing the right thing? You may speak freely.”

“Sir?” he inquired, rather stunned by the question.

“Taking over the ship, I mean. Am I really the one who should take her place?”

He stared at her, not responding.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, “It just doesn’t feel right. But ever since the final orders came through i've been having this weird feeling. I know I’ve been doing it for a few weeks now, and I eyed for that big chair for so long. And now I finally get the Kir’Shara, for real… You know, I checked the logs. I was the last officer she ever recommended for promotion. May the Prophets know, this isn’t what I had in mind. The humans have a saying, ‘Over my dead body.’ Truthfully… that’s how I feel taking over. I doubt this is what she planned when she promoted me.”

“Captain,” Lyle smiled. “When has anything ever turned out like the way we planned? Do you know what I wanted to be when I was a child? A school teacher. And now look at me. How did I end up, thousands of lightyears from my homeworld, as a Starfleet officer?”

He paused, and the seriousness returned to his voice. “My people are not very religious. At least those who remain... But all the gods and deities aside, we believe that everything happens for a reason—however incomprehensible it may seem for the moment…and no matter how strange this may sound. But there was a reason she died. We may not be capable of understanding it…but it’s there. And there is a reason you were selected to captain this vessel. You knew her better than any of us. You were her best friend, and if anyone can uphold the standards she set for this ship, it’s you.” He said. It wasn’t just the normal, XO-CO pep-talk. He meant it.

She let a weak smile slip through. “Thanks, Malcolm. I needed that.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “How’s the resupply going anyway? We have a date with the friendly neighborhood watch in two days.” She grimaced.

“Captain Erid and the Corano?” Lyle asked quizzically.

She nodded with a deep sigh. “Yup. The one and only. Christopher… I can’t believe I ever married that man.”

“Captain,” Lyle cracked a wide smile. “We’ve all done our mistakes in our youth. But it’s one mistake you don’t have to live with.”

“One mistake I don’t have to live with?” she repeated his statement. “That’s so… human of you Malcolm.” she said, smirking.

He returned the smile. “Captain, when you live among humans for as long as I have, you pick things up.”


Main market, City of Kendam, Pegasi Prime
1124 hours, Local time


“I have the medicine you ordered, Tanteque. And I have another shipment for the clinic next month,” the seller said—an olive skinned, black haired man in his early thirties.
He really wouldn’t give up. Truthfully, Tanteque found him quite attractive. But still…she found his futile attempts to annoying to give him a chance.

“So, after the market closes…any chance you’d like to share a meal with me?” he asked.
Usually she simply said a witty remark and left. But this time she was too distracted by looking at the small child who came running towards her to notice another attempt from Godan.

“Tanteque! Tanteque! Tanteque!” she shouted.
For a moment she wanted to ask the child what she meant by Tanteque, but the child was swept away by her mother before she could approach her. The child’s innocent shouts impacted Tanteque like a speeding train. Like her namesake, the mythological bird, Tanteque had also appeared out of thin air. Injured, and without any knowledge of who she was or where she came from.

She moved over to the alleyway the child had emerged from. She pressed her body close to the red brick wall, hoping to get a view of the person who had come for her. It has to be, someone must know I’m missing…


She discreetly peeked around the corner. Four hooded humanoids, their faces hidden by the dark fabric stood and conversed behind a large rusted container. At this range, it was impossible to make out what they were saying, but they were most definitely not speaking Pegasi.

Here goes nothing, she mused. Unholstering the weapon she carried concealed under her jacket and approached the four men. Too carried away by their conversation, they didn’t notice her until she was merely ten paces away. But by then it was too late. She had kept the weapon firmly by her side, not wanting to appear hostile—only carrying the weapon as a defensive measure.

A big mistake, but it was too late now. The four hooded men moved faster that she could have ever anticipated, and soon enough, she was staring down the barrels of four weapons identical to hers.

“Put the phaser down! Slowly! And step away from the weapon!” A female voice shouted. Apparently the hooded aliens weren’t all male. But in their robes, they all appeared identical.

Tanteque complied. Holding the silver painted weapon with two fingers, she put it slowly on the slippery and wet concrete pavement. And just as instructed, she backed away.

“Good!” the same voice said. “Now go around the weapon in a wide arch and come closer so we can see you!”
Once again, Tanteque had no choice but to follow the woman’s orders.
“You shouldn’t be here!” she shouted to the hooded aliens. “It’s too dangerous!”

One of the hooded figures rose from its crouching firing position. “Why would it be danger…” The man’s last sentence in life was cut short by the rifles of two Pegasi Defence Force troops. As the remaining aliens ducked for cover, Tanteque reached for her weapon on the slippery pavement, grabbed it, rolled to the right, avoiding two rounds in the process and sent two deadly volleys towards the two red dressed government troops. The two men were dead before they fell. Their lifeless faces showing nothing but pure shock. Quickly, she took cover next to the aliens expecting more troops to appear and return fire. But the crackling noise of the PDF trooper’s automatic weapons seized along with the breathing of the two men.

“That is why it’s not safe!” Tanteque shouted to the remaining aliens. “They shoot to kill! No questions asked!”
One of the aliens tried desperately to find their fallen comrades pulse, but he had none. Seeing their futile attempts, Tanteque spoke up. “Their bullets are poisoned. Even if he survived his wounds the poison would have killed him. I’ve seen dozens of good men die because of that damned poison. It’s no use. The best thing you can do is to gather his belongings.”

Tanteque set her weapon to maximum. As the woman removed a few items from the body, Tanteque fired. The energy beam completely disintegrated the body, leaving nothing, but a pool of blue blood on the pavement.

“If you value your lives, you join me. Without me, you will not last an hour.” Tanteque said, and without waiting for a response, started walking back towards the market. She made a quick stop near the two soldiers. She opened the eyes of the two dead men, crossed their arms on their chests and removed their helmets, putting them gently next to their bodies. She silently spoke something in the Pegasi tongue and rose, standing almost at attention.

To the three aliens the gesture seemed unnecessary; one could even go as far as strange. When asked, Tanteque simply said that after death, no affiliations and loyalties existed. All have the same right to have their souls claimed by Olanab. They may have been enemies in life, but in death, all are equals.

One of the aliens, the female, nodded. “A noble sentiment. Of what we know about this world, it is unusual.”

Tanteque looked over her shoulder. Flashing a slightly annoyed glare. “Do not pass judgment of something you know nothing of. Not every Pegasi agrees with the President’s way of life. Some wish to be free. Free of oppression, free to live their lives as they wish and free of prejudice and bigotry.”

“I assume you’re one of those Pegasi?” she asked catching up to Tanteque. She raised her right hand and made a V-shaped gesture. It didn’t mean much to Tanteque, and she simply drew the conclusion that it was their greeting. “Live long and prosper. I am Commander T’Sara. First officer of the Starship Corano.”

After a few failed attempts, she returned the gesture. “I am Healer Tanteque. May Olanab grant you a life of peace and welfare.” She said. “Commander T’Sara. Do not let appearances fool you, I am no Pegasi.”

Leaving the market, now flooded by red unformed soldiers and security personnel, behind them. They arrived at one of the vehicles belonging to the clinic. Tanteque gestured for them to take a seat inside, and so they did. Tanteque took her seat in the operator’s cabin and looked worryingly around.

Another alien spoke up, this time a male. With an equally worried voice as Tanteque felt, he asked, “You do know how to operate this craft, do you?”

She looked at him through the mirror. His face was still hidden by the hood. “Of course. I have studied the handbook for weeks now. But the last time I operated something that flew, I ended up mortally wounded in the forest.” She smiled in order to sound reassuring. It didn’t seem to work. “With a complete amnesia, I might add.”

Judging from the man’s body language, he was very close to panicking. “Bloody great. The lass studied the handbook. You’re not making it any better, you know.” He said.

Tanteque was not about to start an argument. She was just as afraid of the ambulance as the man in the passenger compartment was. So she wisely kept quiet.

The class 2 fusion reactor powering the ambulance powered up, followed by the low humming of the anti gravity core. With a quick tap on the panel in front of her, the ambulance rose from the ground and accelerated away.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tanteque said smiling towards her passengers. Then, deciding that it was futile, she turned serious. “But the worst is still ahead of us. We still have to get you three back home. Wherever that is…” she sighed.

“You don’t happen to have any ideas?”

She was met with silence.

“Of course. Let the one with amnesia handle everything.“ For a strange reason, the notion of knowing that everything depended on her, seemed awfully familiar.

Meanwhile the ambulance kept flying towards the Clinic. Usually they would be there within seconds, but without accelerating to supersonic speeds, something that Tanteque had not yet mastered, they were stuck at the lower speed. Thankfully, that only meant a few minutes of travel time, and the panel in front of Tanteque signaled her to extend the landing gear. With a gentle touch, she instructed the computer to land. And a few seconds later, after the systems check, the ambulance landed.

 

[ares93]

One of the aliens, presumably the one who earlier voiced his opinion about the safety of the craft, shot out of the ambulance like a cannonball. Tanteque threw an amused smile towards T’Sara who simply sighed.

“It wasn’t your piloting. His fear of flying is illogical. But he makes up for it with his intellect.” T’Sara mumbled so only Tanteque could hear.

She nodded in understanding. Some people simply werent cut out for flying. “Let’s get inside. The troops will be here soon, they always canvas the area. The PDF knows that we harbor rebels—they have simply been unable to prove it yet. And Commander Sonturan lacks the authority to perform enhanced interrogation.”

“Enhanced interrogation? Who are the bastards torturing now?” came a voice from the kitchen. Shortly thereafter, Iro appeared. This time not wearing his usual lab coat, but a plaid shirt with black pants.

Tanteque walked up and embraced him. “We have guests.”

“Indeed we do.” He smiled at the three hooded figures. “Welcome.”

The three aliens almost indistinguishably nodded, but remained silent. Still covering their faces with their hooded robes.

“It is considered rude to hide your faces as guests in someone’s residence. You should know that,” he said, sounding almost offended. When they did not respond, he turned to Tanteque and silently asked, “Where did you say they were from, again?”

Without turning towards him, and keeping the smile on her face, she muttered back, “I didn’t.”

He hid his annoyance and silently said, “I see….”

Their faces were of course still hidden, but they appeared to meet each other’s gaze…almost like they were communicating telepathically. Then, one of them spoke up. “Seriously Commander, when the shit hit the fan back in town, we would have kicked the bucket if she hadn’t showed up. Frankly, the lass saved our asses. Best thing we can do is to get out of their hair and let them fight their rebellion without drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

“Indeed.” T’Sara agreed. “The decision to make first contact, can be considered rash at best.” She tuned to Iro and Tanteque. “We need to contact our vessel but our equipment was destroyed along with our shuttlecraft. Do you have access to subspace communications?”

“Sub-what?” The duo asked simultaneously.

“Sub-space communications.” T’Sara said again. “What kind of communication equipment to you use then?”

“Radios.” The duo answers together once again.

T’Sara’s left eyebrow shot up. “Radios?”

“Yes, short range radios.” Iro said. “Unless…” he locked eyes with Tanteque, who nodded.

Acknowledging her permission, he moved into the other room, walked up to a desk that was flooded with papers, most of them forgotten, and retrieved a small gray box. Roughly the size of a plate, but triangle shaped. He returned to the living room and handed the box to the nearest alien who happened to be the man with the completely unreasonable fear of flying.
The man nodded. Iro quickly deducted that they all had to work on their “thank-you’s”, as he returned to Tanteque’s side.

The man, whom neither Iro nor Tanteque knew the name of, which annoyed the hell out of them both, opened the box. First flashing understanding, then confusion. But once he had finally inventoried the contents he couldn’t restrain himself any longer. “Jackpot, baby!” he exclaimed to everyone’s surprise.

T’Sara’s eyebrows shot up in confusion. “I beg your pardon? What was that Lieutenant?”

“Uhm… ah… uhm…” the lieutenant cleared his throat. “What I meant to say is that we just struck gold. This is a Starfleet emergency kit from the runabout Themes.”

“She was lost eight months ago…” T’Sara muttered to herself. “Emergency beacon?”

“Aye,” He smiled. “Present and accounted for, Commander. I will have to make some modifications because of the radiation this system. My father though me a few tricks, I might… But I think were in the clear.”

USS Kir’Shara

Ezri was standing a few meters behind him when he zipped his bag closed and grabbed it. “Don’t, Julian--please. Don’t do this,” she cried. After everything, she could see him slowly slipping away from her. Ezri Dax was desperate to not lose her husband as well.

For the first time in his lifetime, the old, 20th century house they have decided to build their home in, felt alien. He turned back, looking at her gently, a single teardrop slowly finding its way down his cheek.

He dropped the bag and walked up to her, pulled her close and kissed her. Not a fleeting kiss, but a passionate one, like the one they shared on that winter day so many years ago when they finally rekindled.

Deep inside, he knew he was making a mistake, but he was in too much pain to care. He couldn’t bear to face her anymore. Not after what he’d done.

“I love you with all my heart, Ezri” he whispered in her ear. “But...I have to do this. I have to know why this happened to her.”

He reached down and lifted his bag, determined to leave.

But then something happened that he hadn’t anticipated, Ezri stopped him.

She slowly took his left hand, put a small object in it and closed his fist. Then she reached up and kissed him, he couldn’t but feel like it was for the last time. He hoped it wasn’t, but the feeling was distinct.

Tears were flowing now, Ezri looked up at him and smiled. At least as much as she could. “I love you, Julian. And--when you’re ready to come home... When you’re ready to give me my husband back, I'll be here waiting for you,” she whispered, brushing his arm with her hand as she walked past him out into the garden.

She had already disappeared out of view when he opened his hand, revealing her wedding ring of gold…



The blank polished doors parted, revealing Captain Mecren Prin standing in the doorway, her long, shiny, brown hair in a ponytail, gracefully at her back. The admiral was too deep in his thoughts to notice her until she spoke. “Sir, I would need your input on something before you leave,” she said.

Looking around in confusion, he shot up like the chair was electrified. “Forgive me, Captain. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said with his all too familiar British accent.

Prin let a weak smile slip through. “It’s perfectly alright, sir. Anytime. But I’d like you to know that that’s not Sulhir’s chair. I had that shipped to Earth, to your wife.”

“Ah, indeed you have.” he nodded somberly.

They stood for a number of uncomfortable minutes before

Prin broke the silence. “Sir?”

Bashir looked up. “Yes, Captain?”

“If you’d look at something….”

“Right.” He smiled. “Shall we?” he added and gestured for her to take point.

Just like the last two weeks Rear Admiral Julian Bashir had been aboard his now-late daughter’s ship, when he entered the bridge, everyone fell silent. He muttered a quick, “As you were,” for what it seemed the millionth time, and followed Captain Mecren to the science console.

The Vulcan science officer remained as stiff as usual until Bashir shot him a glare, and then he loosened slightly. Julian had never been a stickler for protocol, and watching the man standing like he was expecting a firing squad to show up was just something he hated with all his heart. For some reason it made him feel like he was abusing his power as an Admiral, which really couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Sovaras?” Prin addressed the Vulcan. “The transmission?”

“Yes,” he responded. “I was running a diagnostic on the sensors when I picked this up.” He manipulated his console, until a cracked male voice was audible.

“Thi.. is …utenant Doherty of the USS C…ano. To any… lied vessels… Pegasi Pr--”

“See if you can clear it up.” Bashir ordered.

Sovaras nodded and further manipulated his console. “Should be better now.” he said, starting the transmission once again.

“This is Lieutenant Doherty of the Federation Starship Corano. To any allied or unaligned vessels, our position is Pegasi Prime. Our diplomatic shuttle has been shot down. Status of the Corano is undeterminable at this time. Holding position at a rebel run clinic, a few dozen kilometers south of the capital. I repeat, to all allied or unaligned vessels, request immediate assistance. Position, Pegasi Prime. Lieutenant Charles Doherty out.”

“That’s it, sir. That’s all we got.” Sovaras said looking up at Bashir who displayed and incredibly blank look.

“It’s a distress call, set a course and retrieve the man. You’re perfectly capable of rescuing a Starfleet officer on your own.” he said. ”What do you need me for?”

Commander Malcolm Lyle, the ships first officer spoke up from behind them.“To verify it. It was sent on a Maquis channel. It might be a ruse—an ambush.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that someone needs our help. This is the fastest ship in the fleet. Something goes south, Skrorduglig steps on it and we slipstream the hell away.” He moved over to the console and accessed Starfleet personnel records. “Look.” He said pointing at the man on the monitor. “Lieutenant Charles Doherty, USS Corano…. Ah, here it is. His father, Lieutenant Commander Mark Doherty, was dishonorably discharged for aiding a Maquis raider while he was stationed on DS9. Come to think of it, I think I remember that man.”

“So why would the son of a Maquis sympathizer send a distress call on an obsolete channel?” Prin asked.

Bashir looked down at the science console. The Maquis transmission’s position was still clearly pinpointed. “I don’t know, but I sure as hell like to find out. Send a transmission to Starbase Alhira, tell them I’m taking the Kir’Shara to Pegasi Prime. Feel free to add an objection or two, if case something goes south.”

“You’re staying aboard?” Prin asked pulling him aside. “What about your investigation?”

“Dead." he muttered, "The last man who was involved committed suicide before my men could interrogate him. Besides, I think Commander Anzak will be fine without me for another few days.” he added.

Unfortunately, his word carried little weight except among friends, for at least as long as Akaar had had something to do with Starfleet. They trusted him….right up until the point of the actual trusting. His previous affiliations with Section 31, now his daughter labeled a traitor. The little power he had left was slowly diminishing. They wouldn’t give much thought to his objections about the battle plan anyway.

“So,” Prin asked. “All in all, what do you think?”

Bashir pondered her question for a moment. “Either way, we need to know. If the distress call is real, this man is in trouble. If it’s fake, we need to know who is messing with us. Set a course. Maximum slipstream.”

Prin turned to the helm. “You heard the man, Lieutenant. Floor it.”

 

[ares93]

Pegasi Prime


“I don’t have to answer to you!” Tanteque shot back. “I can report you to the police anytime. Never forget that!”

Her statement didn’t appear to frighten T’Sara a second. “I asked you a question.” She said. How she could stay this calm, was beyond both Iro, and T’Sara’s companions.

“So what?” Tanteque turned to leave, hoping for T’Sara to stay behind. But she didn’t. Somewhere under all that Vulcan, there was a furious woman. Then she made another mistake, she reached to grab Tanteque’s shoulder.

As her arm touched Tanteque, she reached out and grabbed it, pulling T’Sara into the killzone. Then she planted her left elbow in T’Sara’s chest, put her left leg right on front of T’Sara as she doubled over, and tossed her clear over herself with T’Sara’s own momentum. Once T’Sara was on the ground, Tanteque quickly immobilized her. Somehow, in a way that was beyond everyone present, T’Sara’s arms were behind her, and therefore, as long as Tanteque had her weight on her, she wasn’t going anywhere. She pressed her forearm to T’Sara’s throat, careful to stop just enough oxygen to make a point.

“20 more seconds and you’re dead. -- Don’t do that again.”

Tanteque said and released her. “Do you want to know where I got that box? I killed the previous owner. Stabbed him in the back.” As long as she thinks I’m a homicidal maniac, she’ll do as I say and stay hidden, she mused.

There were of course rather large gaps in that plan, but as long nobody drew the military’s attention, Tanteque was fine with a few people believing that she was crazy.

“You didn’t…” T’Sara managed to cough out. “That box belongs to you. It’s yours. You didn’t take it from anyone.”
Much to Tanteque’s surprise, the custom of raising ones eyebrows when quizzical, didn’t only include her species, but the two others as well. “Sir?” one of them asked, “Have we missing something?”

The Vulcan rose and nodded, “Indeed you have, Lieutenant. This woman is a Starfleet officer.”

“That’s just ridiculous,” Tanteque snorted. “You people must really be full of yourselves if you think anyone who can kick your asses must be one of you.”

T’Sara shot her a glare. “On the contrary. The vessel this emergency beacon originates from, was lost in this area a little over eight months ago, with a female Starfleet officer aboard. A Captain if the facts were correct. But that wasn’t what made me certain. The way you immobilized me, only a handful of people know that move. And I find it highly unlikely that anyone on this world have any idea of what Suus Mahna is.”

“Fine, you seem to have it all figured out. So what now? You call you fancy ship an--” her sentence was cut short by the sharp sound of glass breaking. Before the figured out what was going on, four concussion grenades were at their feet. Tanteque instinctively jumped to the side, but it was too late. Her momentum plus the shockwave the grenade emitted, only served to the end that she hit the counter with greater force. Immense fatigue washed over her but before she could reach to check for a head wound, she slipped into unconsciousness.

***

USS Kir’Shara


“What is it?” Bashir asked briskly stepping out of the turbolift. He took the advisory position of Prin’s left before she could answer.

“We’ve detected the Corano, she’s in range but we can’t contact them. Might be interference-”
The main viewer zoomed in on the vessel, revealing extreme hull damage.

“or not…” she finished.

“What the hell happened to her?” Lyle snapped at Sovaras.

The science officer briefly looked down at his console before answering. And when he did, for the first time, a hint of worry managed to slither its way into his voice. “Some sort of plasma based weaponry, similar to Romulan designed energy weapons, but very primitive.”

“Might be primitive, but they sure as hell kicked the bucket because of it.” Johansen muttered from OPS before being hushed down by Lyle.

“Life signs?”

“Yes,” Sovaras replied to the captain’s worried question,

“there are crewmen alive. But I cannot determine the exact number. Or their location for that matter. The computer is even having difficulty separating the lifesigns. At the moment, there is nothing further I can do.” He paused. “Captain?”

“Yes?”

“The Corano was refitted three months ago. She carried the same shields and weaponry we are.”
Thank you for pointing out exactly how big a mess were in right now, Prin mused. Aloud she simply said “Noted.” And returned her attention to the main viewer where the mortally wounded Excelsior class vessel drifted alone in the darkness.

“Very well,” she sighed. “Red alert! Sound battle stations and set a course towards the planet.” She ordered. “And Sarema?”

“Yes, Captain.” The Romulan officer responded.

“If the orbital weapons platforms open fire on us, don’t wait for my order. Just blast them all the way back to Achernar Prime.”

She smiled, “Understood.”

And for the first time in Starfleet history, at least that Captain Mecren Prin was aware of, a Starfleet vessel approached a potential first contact situation with weapons primed and ready to fire. The planet slowly grew larger and all the crew could do was to wait. Prin and Malcolm were staring at each other, both hoping for the other one to say something positive. Yet neither of them did. Malcolm was just about to break the silence with a well timed status report when Johansen spoke up.

“Captain, were being hailed.”

Prin and Malcolm met each other gaze. “By whom?” she finally asked.

“By the planet, sir. Apparently they can see us.” Johansen said turning towards Prin. “Let’s just hope they can only talk, not fire.”

“Indeed.” Prin muttered. “Lieutenant, open a channel. Left see what they want.”

With a quick tap, Johansen activated the main viewer were a short, bald and at first glance, obnoxious man appeared.

“Hello,” he said with a wide smile, “I trust your trip was problem free, yes? May Olanab grant you a life of peace and welfare. I am Representative Dractan and I speak for his Excellency, President Tronameth. How may I help you this fine evening?”

The three most senior officers, Bashir, Mecren and Lyle met each other’s gaze. Probably thinking the same thing. This man is far too pleasant for someone who just blew a starship out of the sky. Nonetheless, the surface remained clear and no projectiles were launched and so, Prin decided to give diplomacy a go.

“Good evening, Mr. Dractan,” she said as she rose and approached the main viewer, “I am Mecren Prin, captain of the Federation Starship Kir’Shara. This is Rear Admiral Julian Bashir beside me. We recently received a distress call from one of our officers. He claimed to have been shot down during a diplomatic mission. Not to mention the fact that the USS Corano, is heavily damaged and adrift because of your orbital platforms. Now, I’m a reasonable woman. If you explain your actions I will refrain from obliterating everything from your orbit. I want to know why you shot down a diplomatic shuttle and why you attacked the Corano!”

“Your shuttle violated sovereign Pegasi airspace!” Dractan snapped , “And you sent spies to our planet! You may think we are primitive but make no mistake, if you make any threatening moves I’ll cancel my orders and have the prisoners executed! Am I clear!?”

“You have made yourself very clear, Mr. Dractan,” Bashir spoke up, hoping to salvage the situation, “I am a senior Starfleet official, I can assure you, if we had placed a spy or spies on your world I would have definitely known about it. Let’s just put our cards on the table, shall we?”

Dractan grunted something untranslatable in response.

“I have a missing officer somewhere on your world and you have attacked both a diplomatic shuttle and a starship.” Bashir pointed out, gathering all of his diplomatic skills,

“According to our laws those actions will certainly lead to war. Now I don’t want that, and I surely hope you don’t want a Starfleet Task Force in orbit around your world. Rest assured, the Corano and the Kir’Shara are far from the most powerful vessels in our fleet. Now I’m prepared to write this off as an accident in order to salvage relations between our worlds, but as long as you hold our officer hostage, I will do no such thing.”

“What are your terms, Admiral,” Dractan muttered silently. Obviously annoyed with the fact that, for once, he want the one in the threatening position, “I will of course need to confer with his Excellency.”

“Of course,” Bashir inclined his head in approval, “Release our officer and give us the coordinates of the crashed shuttled so we can retrieve it.” he said and signaled Johansen to cut the feed and the crimson planet appeared on the main viewer.

Prin rose and walked up to him. The stood beside each other, simply looking out over the world that had given them both a terrible headache, “I’d hate to ask, Julian,” she whispered, “But what now?”

Bashir let out a deep sigh, “Now Prin, we do what we’ve been trained to do. Wait until the bureaucrats drink a cup of coffee, have lunch then discuss this matter in a committee for a week.”

“Oh, joy.” Pherigo muttered from his console.

------------------------------------------------------------

Aight, this is as far as I've gotten from the moment. I don't have any classes tomorrow, and i'll probably forget to mention the fact that I'm available for overtime to my boss. So I might be able to update tomorrow as well.

 

[Rush Limborg]

You have the makings of a great, complex tale. Julian's inner rage is well-written--and how his desire for revenge runs the risk of alienating him from his beloved Ezri, who loves him with all his heart, but knows she can't help him do this....