Re: Chapter VI - Arrival
Thanks LoneRedshirt, the story will now shift into a new act which hopefully means that the pace will pick up and we'll see a stronger focus on the overall plot.
David and Admiral, I find your views very insightful and still find it difficult to really disagree with either one of you. Before we move on there are two things I'd like to point out about Edison which might help to explain his decision here.
One, Edison doesn't have much experience with dealing with these kind of issues as he never really had to reprimand his subordinates the way he does now. Secondly, I also think that he is profoundly disappointed and angry at Leva for the situation he has created and I certainly that plays somewhat into how he is reacting over this.
------------------------------------------------------------
When Michael Owens stepped into the transporter room he found most of his senior officers already there waiting for him.
Nora Laas quickly approached him before he even had a chance to do a head count. “Er, sir, I was wondering if it be possible,” she started out, her voice sounding surprisingly unsteady, “to have permission to remain on board.”
The captain gave her a skeptical look. “Why?”
“Well, there are some security drills I meant to be doing and I have a ton of paper work that I need to get finish. Also –“
The captain raised his hand, cutting her off. “Permission denied,” he said with a smirk. “You know the doctor was a lot more imaginative with her excuse.”
The security chief blushed slightly and then nodded slowly accepting the fact that her efforts to weasel herself out of this engagement had utterly failed.
Edison smiled at her embarrassing attempt. But his expressions quickly transformed into a mask of serious professionalism when he himself addressed the captain. “Commander Leva will not be joining us.”
Owens acknowledged the report with a curt nod. He had not been entirely briefed on the events that had transpired in the Nest a few hours earlier. For now it was enough for him to know that his first officer had dealt with it. There was going to be plenty of time to worry about the consequences once they had returned from Epsilon Twelve.
“I guess we’re all here then. What are we waiting for?”
All eyes darted towards Louise Hopkins who slightly blushed at suddenly being the center of attention. “I mean,” she said with a half smile, “It can’t be that bad, can it?”
Nora let a heavy sigh escape her hips. “Obviously you haven’t met many station commanders,” she said and stepped onto the transporter dais.
Hopkins gave her a puzzled expression. When she didn’t get an answer she looked over at Deen.
“They do tend to talk a little,” the Tenarian explained.
“A little?” Edison said.
“Fine then,” said Hopkins and stepped up next to Nora. “I’ll just look forward to the food.”
“That’s the right attitude, Lieutenant,” said Owens with a smile. “Like it or not people, this is all part of the job,” he added and took the most center position on the transporter platform and waited for the rest of the officers to arrange themselves around him.
“It sure beats fighting the Dominion,” said Edison and placed himself next to the captain.
Owens couldn’t agree more. He would gladly visit a hundred remote outposts if it meant an end to the war. But then again, traveling to the far ends of the galaxy had been the reason he had joined Starfleet in the first place. He shot a glance at the always smiling transporter chief behind the control terminal. “Are we ready, chief?”
“I have received the coordinates from Epsilon Twelve but I’m having trouble adjusting for the interference,” the stout Chinese man reported as he worked the console.
“The outer crust of Ligos IV contains large amounts of trithium ore residue which emits a low level, non-toxic radiation. However it does interfere with sensory equipment,” the Vulcan science officer explained.
Owens nodded. He had been informed of this complication before. It was the reason most of the cargo was being transported to the surface by shuttle crafts instead. He had been assured that the transporters would work but that the process would take more time than usual. Suddenly he wondered if taking a shuttle wouldn’t have been a much more reasonable idea.
“Do you need a hand?” asked Hopkins.
Chief Chow shook his head. “No, I’ve got it,” he said and looked up. “This might feel a bit different than usual.”
“Define different,” Nora asked quickly.
Chow simply smiled at her and activated the controls. “Energizing.”
And with that the six officers on the transporter platform began to dematerialize.
Michael Owens had gone through the transporter more times than he could possibly count and this time hardly felt any different. However it did seem to take longer. He couldn’t be entirely sure however. Normally when he used the transporter he didn’t have the time – or perhaps a reason – to think about the process of his body being disassembled on a molecular level. This time he couldn’t shake the concern that some parts of him might not make the trip.
All his worries disappeared when he found himself in another transporter room with everything in the place it belonged. He quickly made sure that his officers were with him as well.
“I don’t appreciate that man’s humor,” Nora huffed, eliciting a small chuckle from Deen.
The transporter room they had materialized in was slightly smaller than the one they had departed from. It was also much darker here, just bright enough to illuminate the room but not a bit more. A stark contrast to Eagle’s brightly lit interior.
“Welcome to Epsilon Twelve, I’m Lieutenant Commander Shelby Monroe, second-in-command.”
Owens quickly measured up the commander. She was an attractive woman with dirty blonde hair, pulled back into a single ponytail which tightened her flawless skin, giving her a stern expression. There were slight bags under her eyes as if she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in quite a while. She was young for her rank and Owens immediately recognized the grit of a career officer in her eyes. He was quite certain that she didn’t like being wasted on a seemingly inconsequential assignment on an outpost in the middle of nowhere. And yet she managed a firm smile onto her lips.
“Thank you, Commander,” Owens replied and stepped down from the platform. His officers followed suit.
“Before we proceed I’m afraid I have to ask you to surrender any weapons in your possession for security reasons. Our sensors have detected at least one of you carrying a phaser.”
An awkward silence fell upon the room as most of Eagle’s officers turned to look at the only member of the away team who might have decided to come to Epsilon Twelve armed.
Nora Laas reluctantly withdrew the tiny phaser from a hidden pouch in her uniform.
Monroe stepped closer to the Bajoran security officer but Nora didn’t seem to want to part with the weapon. “It shall be returned to you on your departure,” she clarified and managed to keep that smile on her face. But the impatience in her voice was difficult to miss.
The security chief shot a quick look at the captain who gave her an affirming nod. She handed the phaser over to the station’s first officer.
“Thank you,” Monroe said with little candor and passed it on to an armed security officer who was also in the transporter room. The blonde-haired woman turned back to her guests and showed momentary irritation.
“Another problem, Commander?” Owens asked.
“I was under the impression Agent Tren would be arriving with you.”
Michael Owens kept a neutral expression on his face at the mention of Jana Tren. It wasn’t easy. He had not been aware that she had also been invited to the dinner.
“In any case, if you and your officers would like to follow me now, I’ll take you directly to the room where you will be having dinner with Captain Zalak.”
“Certainly,” Owens said, mirroring her smile and holding out his hand for her to show the way.
Monroe stepped out of the transporter room and made sure that all of the visitor followed her.
The captain couldn’t help but notice the two heavily armed guards that were positioned just outside the transporter room. He exchanged a look with his equally surprised first officer.
Monroe in the meantime adopted a brisk pace through the corridors of the station. They seemed slightly wider than those on most starships. The reason for that, Owens assumed, was that the outpost had been build into the empty tunnels of the trithium mine that had occupied this space. The corridors were already beginning to fill with crates and containers from Eagle.
“Epsilon Twelve has seven levels. This is A level,” Monroe explained as they walked down the corridor. “The only level above the surface. The room in which you will be dining is on G level, six decks down,” she added and stepped into a turbo-lift.
The car was just large enough to hold all seven of them. But not very comfortably.
“G level,” Monroe told the computer.
The lift set into motion with a low hum. It traveled much slower than its counter-part on Eagle.
“How deep are we going?” asked Deen.
“About sixty-five meters,” Monroe replied very curtly.
The lift stopped, the doors opened and Monroe darted out of the car.
The corridors on G level seemed even darker than the ones further up and the layout seemed almost maze-like. They made so many turns at seemingly indistinctive intersections that Owens truly marveled at Monroe’s sense of direction. The hallways on this level were less filled and the captain assumed that the crew hadn’t had time yet to move the cargo to the lower decks. They encountered only a handful of Starfleet officers, most of which were in the process of moving equipment into various rooms.
Deen stopped suddenly when she got a chance to spy into a room a crewmember had just stepped out of. Two men in what appeared to be lab coats seemed to be engaged in a heated debate, their voices were so loud that they echoed through the corridor.
As they spotted the curious Tenarian they suddenly stopped their arguments in mid-sentence. DeMara Deen of course was used to this kind of behavior but these men did not look at her out of fascination at all. Instead they appeared to be embarrassed and quickly turned away.
Monroe had stopped and turned to Deen who was still trying to spy into the open room. “Lieutenant, I would appreciate it if you would stay with the group as not to disturb the crew’s efforts to store the cargo,” she said, her smile now gone.
The doors closed shut and Deen turned away. “Sorry,” she replied with an innocent shrug.
“We’re almost there,” indicated Monroe and continued on. This time slower however, making sure that Eagle’s officers would follow her closely.
“If they’re so worried about us being here,” Nora whispered to Edison, “why did they invite us in the first place?”
The first officer did not have an answer and didn’t get a chance to think about it either as Monroe led them into a spacious and mostly unremarkable room. It appeared to have no distinct purpose except for the large oval-sized table at its center. Numerous chairs were positioned around it and it was fully prepared for at least eight dinner guests. The plates, glasses and cutlery seemed simple standard issue but it was the center of the table which held the real eye catcher. The long tray that ran down the entire length of the table contained a number of steamy hot foods of various forms and colors. Most of them were clearly from non-Earth regions. The room was filled with the sweet scent of all kinds of different spices.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you,” Monroe said without the slightest tone of regret in her voice. “Captain Zalak will join you momentarily but please don’t hesitate to make yourselves comfortable.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
Monroe gave Owens a curt nod and then wasted no time to slip passed him and out of the room.
“I did mention that outpost people are strange?” said Nora as she looked at the now closed doors Monroe had just used.
“I don’t care if they are completely insane,” Hopkins said and approached the table. “Look at that,” she reached for a fork and picked up a small potato-sized vegetable from the tray and quickly devoured it. She turned to the others with a wide smile on her face. “It’s even better than it smells.”
“It is considered polite to wait for the host before starting the meal,” Edison reminded her.
Hopkins quickly placed the fork back but couldn’t manage to keep her eyes off the feast in front of her nose. “He better hurry up.”
As if on cue, the doors opened to allow a tall Bolian to enter the room. Zalak’s skin was a light blue and like all Bolians he had a prominent ridge running vertically along his bald head. His green eyes seemed to sparkle with energy and he wore an almost absurdly large smile on his dark blue lips. “Captain Owens,” he said in a velvet tone of voice as he quickly reached out with both of his hands to shake Owens’. “It gives me great pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Captain,” Owens replied hoping that he wouldn’t catch his lie. “Please meet my officer,” he said and presented his senior staff. “Commander Edison, my right hand man; Mister Xylion, science officer; Nora Laas, security; Louise Hopkins, our chief engineer and last but certainly not least, Lieutenant DeMara Deen.”
Each officer offered a smile and a nod at his or her mention. The Vulcan limited himself to just the latter.
“A pleasure, a pleasure indeed,” Zalak replied, his words shooting out of his mouth. “I wish my officers could join us but I’m afraid they’re all quite busy at the moment. No wonder the way I work them,” he said with a chuckle.
“Please, sit down,” the Bolian continued. “All of you. This humble meal has been prepared to thank you personally for all your efforts.”
Michael Owens took a chair, Edison taking the one to his right while Deen sat to his left.
Hopkins pointed to a seat for Xylion to take. He nodded to her and sat down in the indicated chair. She could barely contain her smile as she sat next to him.
“Really, there is no need to thank us,” Owens said. “We’re just doing our part.”
“Of course you are,” Zalak said who waited until everybody was seated before taking the chair opposite to Owens. “Nevertheless I hope you accept my thanks. All these foods you see before you have been personally selected by me and originate from my home world.”
“Interesting,” said Xylion as he began to help himself to a serving of a vegetable salad consisting out of large, crimson-colored leaves. “I was not aware that yernish salad is a Bolian dish. I was under the assumption it originated from Andor.”
“A common misconception, Mister Xylion. Just because Bolians and Andorians share the same color of skin doesn’t mean we all eat the same food,” he said and uttered another chuckle before returning his attention back to Eagle’s commanding officer, “So, Captain, we don’t get much news out here. Would you be able to indulge me with information as to what is happening out there? I’m so very curious.”
Nora uttered a heavy sigh and concentrated on filling her plate.
Owens showed more restraint however and began to think of the best way to fulfill the Bolian’s request without being dragged into an endless game of questions and answers.
-----------------
Stay tuned for Chapter VII: Disturbance
