The Star Eagle Adventures III: Cry Havoc

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Re: Chapter XIV - Collision Course

I think I may have posted something earlier about Culsten needing to grow up.

I think he just did - but at such a high cost!

Now, I hope he can live with his decision. Command is lonely and means making hard, life and death calls. Lif showed he has what it takes.

What a fascinating and hard-hitting segment. Very well done!

 

[CeJay]

Chapter XV - The Stand

Chapter XV – The Stand


“It should have been back by now,” said Jana Tren with obvious concern as she stood by the turbo-lift doors to the underground lab.

About four minutes earlier they had sent off the first group of six – mostly science specialists – to the relative safety of the laboratory below. But the lift had not yet returned.

Owens’ glance wandered into the other direction where they had assembled the next six individuals to take the lift. It hadn’t been too difficult to prioritize the outpost’s crew. Civilians and those with no combat experience were first while everybody who knew how to handle a phaser rifle would stay as long as possible to give the others a realistic chance to escape. Ideally they would have all abandoned the control center by the time the Jem’Hadar would attack but Owens knew that time was working against them. With about thirty-eight people to evacuate through just the one lift would take time Owens very much doubted the Dominion would afford them.

The doors finally opened and both Tren and Owens sighed in relief when they found it empty.

“Alright people,” the Betazoid said, gesturing to the next group. “Let’s move.”

The civilian researchers wasted no time for the chance to get out of harm’s way and swiftly packed the small cart.

“As soon as you get down, clear the lift and send it back up as quickly as possible,” Tren said to the men and women inside the elevator.

Then the doors closed and the turbo-lift sped away.

Jana Tren turned to look at Owens. “Doctor Santesh-Yardo is not going to be happy about this plan. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s raising all kinds of hell about it as we speak.”

“The doctor is the least of my worries,” the captain replied and looked back at the row of people who were waiting to be evacuated. He then looked back at the Betazoid, reached out for her arm and led her a few steps away and out of earshot of the others. “Jan, I want you to be on the next one going down.”

She looked up into his eyes with surprise. This was after all the man she had only very recently threatened by pointing a gun into his face. But all that seemed forgotten now.

Owens could tell what Jana Tren was thinking and quickly tried to counteract it. “You’d be just in the way up here. Go down there and smooth things out with Santesh-Yardo.”

For moment neither of them spoke as if only time would eventually reveal the obvious lie he had just told. Michael Owens wanted her as far away from the Jem’Hadar as possible. After all that had happened he couldn’t deny that he sill cared for her deeply, no matter how much she had changed over the years. He loved her and that was a difficult emotion to overcome.

“You know I can handle myself in a fight,” she finally said, never taking her eyes off his.

“That’s not the point.”

“Than what is?” she asked without hesitation.

He didn’t have a reply. Or more accurately he was not yet ready to put it into words. He didn’t have to. She was Betazoid after all and more than able to pick up the intensity of his feelings.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The sudden voice was loud enough to force both Tren and Owens out of their private little moment and back into the world surrounding them. The female voice was coming from somewhere within the control room and the captain had a good idea who it belonged to.

Tren left one of the station’s officers in charge of the turbo-lift before both she and Owens left to find the source of the commotion.

“You don’t honestly think you can fool us twice, do you?” said Nora, keeping her phaser rifle pointed at Lieutenant Commander Shelby Monroe.

She had only just entered the room with Ensign McAllister at her side and was already red with anger at being held at gunpoint by the Bajoran security officer. The crew members all around her kept their distance, nobody being certain if intervening now wouldn’t make things a lot worse.

“Lieutenant?” Owens said as he and Tren stepped into the room.

“Sir,” Nora answered over her shoulder. “What should we do with it?”

“It?” Monroe said with disbelieve.

But the security chief ignored her completely. “I say we vaporize that thing where it stands.”

“Now wait just a damn minute,” the station’s first officer protested but didn’t dare to move now that Nora’s intentions were perfectly clear.

“We don’t have any indisputable proof that she is the changeling,” Tren said.

“A changeling?” asked McAllister, giving first Nora and then Monroe a suspicious look.

“It killed the real Monroe and then tried to kill Commander Xylion. When that didn’t work you found yourself a new target, didn’t you?” she said through clenched teeth, raising her rifle higher. “Captain, we can’t afford for this thing to kill again.”

“I am not a changeling,” Monroe insisted.

Xylion stepped next to Nora. “Ms Tren is correct. We cannot be certain that she is.”

Owens agreed. “Anybody could be the changeling.”

The Bajoran shook her head. “Not anybody. We can rule out our away team.”

“How convenient for you,” Monroe said quietly.

“You want to be real careful in your position,” Nora shot back.

But Monroe was done being intimidated by the security officer and now took a bold step towards her. “Do I have to remind you, Lieutenant,” she said with heavy emphasis on her rank, “that you are addressing a senior officer?”

“You’re nothing to me but a potential threat,” Nora spat back.

The station’s first officer was about to retort when Owens cut her off. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said and stepped up to the Bajoran. “We need to concentrate on getting ready to defend ourselves against the Jem’Hadar.”

“Sir, I object to letting her move around unrestricted.”

But Owens had made his decision. “Stand down, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

When Nora still didn’t budge Monroe worked up the courage to take the initiative. She stepped even closer to Nora – the deadly phaser still pointed at her – put her hand on the rifle and began to push it down. “If we make it through this,” she said with unbridled anger rising in her voice, “I promise you I’ll do whatever it takes to assure that you will scrub deuterium tanks for the rest of your career,” she spat as she looked straight into the security officer’s unwavering eyes.

Monroe managed to push the rifle away from her but Nora resisted her efforts and proofed too strong for the station’s first officer. They remained in a dead lock, neither one willing to give in, their eyes shooting poisonous venom at each other.

“Commander,” said Tren as softly as she could. “Perhaps you could find the captain and get our people on the outside to take defensive position in here?”

Shelby Monroe began to look away from Nora very slowly. She eventually nodded at Jana Tren and then abruptly turned away. “Ensign,” she said without looking at McAllister.

The young officer followed her only hesitantly as if he was getting second thoughts about being that close to somebody just having been accused of being the enemy.

“I’ll keep my eyes on you,” Nora called after her.

Monroe decided to ignore the statement and briskly walked out.

Captain Owens considered having a word with Nora about her behavior but then decided against it. He realized what she had lost when Edison had died, he understood her better than she could know. He also didn’t trust Shelby Monroe. After all he had no reason to doubt Xylion when he had reported that he had been attacked by a shapeshifter who had taken on her form. And he also knew that changelings usually killed whoever they imitated. On the other hand of course he couldn’t ignore the possibilities that the changeling had kept her alive on purpose in order to further toy with them. That this particular shapeshifter liked to play games was clearly obvious. But they had a deadly purpose. To keep him and his people confused and uncertain so that by the time it was ready to strike it would have them exactly where it wanted them.

As much as Owens wanted to believe otherwise there simply was no right action to take at the moment. They had to continue on their original plan and hope that they could catch the changeling before it had the chance to make its end move.

He gently placed a hand on Nora’s shoulder. She turned to look at him. For a moment he could see the battle being fought behind her eyes. She was experiencing a gut-wrenching pain while her need for swift vengeance and her sworn oath to defend her crew and her captain were fighting for prominence inside of mind. There was sadness, anger and sense of duty all rolled into one but neither wanting to allow the other to take over entirely. Owens wished there was something he could do to help her but he understood that his options were limited.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded with no hesitation. “We cannot trust her, sir,” she said with utter conviction. “Not for one second.”

“I know,” he said. “But we have to deal with that later. For now, how do our defenses look?”

And with that any signs of her internal struggle disappeared from her face. At least for now. “We found enough material to build somewhat solid barricades,” she said, pointing at the rows of heavy crates and containers that had been dragged into the room to create two shoulder-high makeshift walls. “That should buy us a few minutes. I wish we could set up a force-field but we don’t have enough power.”

The captain looked at the only entrance to the room, a heavy blast door not quite as thick as the ones he had found in the engineering section. It stood open at the moment.

“Once it is shut I estimate the Jem’Hadar will need about one or two minutes to bring it down,” she explained.

That was less time than Owens had hoped for. “And once they’re in?”

The security chief emphasized her rifle. “We fight them off as long as we can. For our final retreat I found a few surprises that just might give us a chance to get through this.”

“Good job, Laas. Get everyone into position; I fear the moment of truth is approaching swiftly.”

Nora Laas gave her captain a sharp nod and then began to position the men that still remained behind the barricades and giving them last minute orders and advice.

In the back Captain Owens noticed that another group of refugees had just boarded the turbo-lift. That left three more groups of non-combatants to go. The most difficult part of the plan, he knew, would be to manage to hold their position once they would begin to evacuate the twenty-something armed men that were left behind. Owens had to be realistic, not all of them would make it.

He looked at Tren who still stood nearby, holding her own phaser rifle with determination. She didn’t need words to say it. She would stay as long she had to. This was her mission, her responsibility and she would carry it until the bitter end.

Michael Owens was trying to think of a way to convince her to leave when he heard the sounds of boots rushing towards the room.

Everybody tensed up, readying their weapons.

“We’ve got contacts!”


****************************

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XV - The Stand

He knew the enemy was close. It was nothing more than distant shadows and indistinguishable sounds but it seemed obvious that one or more Jem’Hadar were positioned somewhere ahead of him, possibly guarding the dark tunnel.

So’Dan Leva had been on his own for the last twenty minutes, separated by the fire team he had been asked to lead, he’d had little choice but to continue on by himself. He knew that the chances for him to complete the mission – survive even – were minimal if he remained without the support of the skilled Marines for much longer. His only hope was that they would eventually find a way to rejoin him.

Right now however he had to face the enemy alone. The only other option was to cower in the darkness and hold out for the chance that the Jem’Hadar would not come his way. He was no coward however and decided for a preemptive strike, getting to the enemy instead of waiting for the enemy to come to him.

There was one additional problem to the plan. He had no weapons save for a sharp combat knife. It had to do, he decided, as he snuck forward, trying to surprise the enemy he knew was there.

He had turned off the torch he carried and decided to use the scarce lighting available in the mine shaft to find his way, trying to diminish his enemy’s chances to spot his approach.

The downside of course was the fact that he himself could not see the enemy. But his well honed intuition told him that they were close even if he could not make out any shapes or figures.

He continued on quietly in the only direction he could. And then he froze. He could now sense the presence of another. Much closer than he had anticipated. But something seemed very familiar about this situation, almost as if he had experienced this before.

And then he knew. He raised his knife and whipped to his side just in time to see an imposingly large man come out of the darkness in which he had been hiding.

Leva was one second faster and it was all the time he needed. He shot out towards the enemy’s waist and found a sidearm where he had expected it. He swiftly removed it, stepped backwards and pointed the phaser to the Klingon’s head.

D’Karr held the blade of his bat’leth just inches from Leva’s throat.

Nobody moved. In the darkness they were hardly even able to see each other’s faces but Leva knew exactly who he was facing and so did the Klingon warrior. It was just the two of them, not another soul seemed to be present in the dark tunnel.

“Impressive,” the Klingon finally said. “I have underestimated you, Romulan,” he added but keeping his razor-sharp blade close to Leva’s neck. “It will not happen again.”

The tactical officer didn’t back off either. He was convinced that D’Karr would not have given a second thought to striking him down if he had not sensed the trap he had walked into. There would have been no witnesses and he could have easily claimed that he had died by the hand of the enemy. Leva was not going to make it that easy for him and held on tightly to the phaser.

“Is this how you face your enemies?” he said in disgust. “By staying in the shadows and slaying them without them ever laying eyes on you? Is that the great honorable way you Klingons are so proud of?”

D’Karr stepped out of the niche he had been hiding in and Leva was careful to match each of his steps, still fully aware that one wrong move could have easily led to his decapitation. “I did not expect you,” he growled. “I thought you were Jem’Hadar.” He began to lower his sword.

But Leva had no intention to mirror his move. Instead he took two steps away from the Klingon to get out his kill zone. As long as his phaser remained trained at him he would have the upper hand. He reached for his flashlight with his free hand and activated it. As he had suspected, they were alone.

“What have you done to your team?”

The accusation hung in the air for a moment.

“What exactly are you accusing me of, Romulan?” he asked with building rage in his voice.

“You set out with three men. Now I find you all by yourself. What do you think I’m accusing you off?”

“What about you?” he countered. “Where are your men?”

“I’m asking the questions here,” Leva spat back. “What happened to them?”

“I don’t like your tone, Romulan,” he said simply and began to continue down the main shaft.

Leva kept his weapon trained on his back. “Get used to it! And you will answer me.”

D’Karr stopped. “Or what?” he said and turned around slowly. “You will shoot me?” He slowly began to approach Leva with a growing smile on his face. “That’s what you really want, isn’t it? It’s what you have wanted ever since the very first time I came onto your ship. Don’t even try to deny it. I recognize blood lust when I see it.”

Leva suddenly felt like taking a step backwards as the Klingon continued to approach. But he knew he couldn’t show weakness in front of the warrior. It was just the kind of invitation he would need. He held his ground and D’Karr came within inches of the phaser he was still aiming at him.

“But your blood lust is different to the ones I have seen in your people,” the Klingon went on. “Yours runs deeper. It is more vile, more personal. I’m right, aren’t I? What is it that makes you want to kill me so desperately?”

Leva didn’t flinch at the Klingon’s words but he felt increasingly uncomfortable and he hated D’Karr for being able to make him feel like that. How could a brutish Klingon warrior be able to use psychological tricks to lower his guard? It was appalling. “You will not succeed in twisting this around. Where are the men!” his voice growing in intensity with every word he spoke.

“If you want to shoot me, get it over with!” D’Karr replied with equal fire in his voice.

“You killed them, didn’t you?” Leva shouted.

“Shoot me or get this weapon out of my face!” the Klingon howled

“What have you done?”

“Shoot!” D’Karr struck out, hitting the half-Romulan’s lower arm and sending the phaser flying out of his hand.

Leva had worked himself into a frenzy and needed no more justification to kill the man who attacked him. His other hand darted for his knife. However before he had the chance to bring it to bear an energy blast impacted on the wall not a meter from where he stood.

Both Leva and D’Karr jumped for cover. At least three Jem’Hadar soldiers had revealed themselves and were charging towards the two men. They had been arguing so loudly that they had made an easy target.

D’Karr had his bat’leth sword out in an instant and Leva gripped his knife, having no time to look for the phaser which had landed somewhere on the dark ground.

Only now did Leva notice how close the enemy had gotten. D’Karr was already swinging his sword at the nearest Jem’Hadar solider and he had to act equally fast. He took two quick steps towards the soldier closest to him who was just getting ready for another shot. Leva managed to get to him just in time to wrap his hand around the enemy’s rifle. He kept it from taking aim at him and locked eyes with the Jem’Hadar. He couldn’t help but notice that he looked young, not much older than a human teenager and most likely years younger. His eyes were blank however, as if he was facing a machine and not a sentient life form.

They were deadlocked for a moment but Leva knew that the Jem’Hadar which had the use of both his hands would eventually win the struggle over his rifle. Without a second thought he drove his knife hard into the soldier’s stomach. The Jem’Hadar didn’t even appear to feel the violent attack. Leva stabbed him again and again until he could feel his grip weakening and his knife wielding hand being soaked with the Jem’Hadar’s life fluids.

The solider went limp and Leva took hold of the rifle firing it instantly at another approaching solider who sacked to the ground on impact.

Out of the corner of his eyes Leva could spot the Klingon, taking on two Jem’Hadar at once. But while Leva had to force himself to concentrate on defeating his opponents and keeping his own anxieties in check, the Klingon seemed to relish the battle. Even when a Jem’Hadar blade sliced across the Klingon’s back he did not seem deterred. On the contrary, he began to lash out even faster, cutting down the soldier who had dared to injure him in seconds.

Leva was not impressed by his combat skills. He didn’t see much difference between the natural born warrior and the engineered soldiers they were facing.

His concentration had slipped, allowing one of the Jem’Hadar to close in on him and deliver a powerful blow against his mid-section. The half-Romulan clenched his teeth in pain and he could taste blood in his mouth. He quickly struck out with the butt of the Jem’Hadar rifle, connecting with the soldier with so much force that he went flying backwards.

Instantly aware that another Dominion warrior was approaching he aimed his weapon in his direction and activated the trigger. It misfired. He had no time to check his weapon as the charging Jem’Hadar was nearly on top of him, his blade seconds away from slicing him in two.

Leva deflected the polearm with the rifle at the last moment and then using the Jem’Hadar’s own momentum he rammed his knee into the soldier’s mid-section. The dazed Jem’Hadar lost his grip on the kar’takin he had been yielding and Leva happily took possession of it only to drive it hard through the Jem’Hadar’s chest.

He didn’t have a second to spare to confirm the kill. Leva could feel a presence behind him. He freed the melee weapon and raced it around to face whatever enemy was approaching.

It was a bat’leth sword that clashed against his polearm. And it was being wielded by D’Karr. There were no more Jem’Hadar to fight so the Klingon had turned on Leva and would have certainly struck him down if he hadn’t reacted as quickly as he had.

They remained in a gridlock, blade on blade.

The tactical officer quietly cursed himself for having been so stupid as to turn his back on D’Karr for more than a second. He was a Klingon and he would kill indiscriminately no matter if friend or foe, weak or strong. Nobody knew this better than Leva. Nobody had wanted to realize this, nobody had understood. They had been fooled by promises of cooperation and alliances but none of them had factored in the true nature of Klingons. Nobody but him. And now it was just himself and the bloodthirsty D’Karr. He knew only one of them would come out of this one alive.


*************************************

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XV - The Stand

“We’ve got contacts!” the female voice repeated as it approached the command center. Seconds later Shelby Monroe and a handful of men stormed into the room. “Jem’Hadar. A lot of them and they’re not even bothering to shroud,” she reported as she rushed towards Captain Owens.

“Take your position,” Owens shouted to the men. He turned to Monroe. “Where are the others?”

“The captain and a few volunteers are trying to hold them up as long as they can,” she said in-between labored breaths. “I should get back out there and help them.”

But Owens determinedly shook his head. “Negative. Take up position in here.”

She shot him an icy stare but did what she was told. “We have to allow them to get back here before we close the doors,” she said as she climbed behind the first barricade.

“It was their decision to stay behind,” Nora shot back. “We close them now!”

“They’re trying to give us a fighting chance. I’m not willing to abandon them.”

“We will give them as long as we can,” Owens said, quickly interrupting their renewed debate.

That seemed to satisfy the station’s first officer but Nora kept her eyes firmly on Monroe instead of on the entrance as if her presence was a much greater danger than the hordes of Jem’Hadar soldiers just moments away from assaulting their position.

The captain didn’t pay it much attention. Instead he made sure that Jana Tren would take up position close to him where he could keep an eye on her. “Don’t aim too high,” he told her calmly, “and keep your weapon steady when you fire. I know it’s not going to be easy but try to keep your breathing regular.”

She looked at him with a small smile. However he didn’t miss the pearls of sweat beginning to form on her forehead. “Short controlled bursts,” she added. “I know I’ve been through the drill.”

“Listen,” he said more quietly, “if you think that you can’t handle it or you feel they’re getting too close don’t think twice about retreating towards the back.”

She held his glance. “Is that an offer you extend to all of us? Does Lieutenant Nora or Commander Xylion have that same luxury?”

Owens didn’t have an answer for her.

“I didn’t think so,” she said and focused on the still open doors again. “Michael, this is as much my fight as it is yours, perhaps even more. I’ll be right here at your side,” she added and then gave him a sideward glance. “Where I belong.”

Michael Owens nodded slowly. His focus was torn away from her however when he heard voices and screams coming from outside. They were coming closer.

“Stand by to seal the door!” he yelled.

As the first figure appeared by the door he almost squeezed the trigger of his rifle and swiftly chastised himself for his skittishness.

It was Ensign Germaine McAllister and he was helping a seemingly injured Captain Zalak into the room, keeping him up with one arm around his shoulder.

A third crewman appeared, providing cover for the two. Owens and the rest of the men watched helplessly as the crewman was mowed down by an explosion of weapons fire just inches away from open entrance to the control room.

“Close this door, close the damn door!” Zalak shouted as soon as he and McAllister had set foot into the room.

“Nora!” Owens yelled.

She must have had her fingers on the controls already as the door came down not a second later, slamming shut with a loud clank.

Monroe left her position to help McAllister bring Zalak behind the barricade. “Do you need medical assistance?” she asked her captain.

He shook his head. “Just give me a weapon and get ready to fight,” he answered with no hesitation. “These damn things took out all my men,” he said with fire in his voice.

Owens wasn’t quite sure if to congratulate or castigate him for putting himself in danger like the he had done. He might have given them a few extra seconds but at what price? He decided to keep quiet and focus on the task at hand.

Seconds later the room fell into eerie silence. There were no more noises coming from beyond the sealed doors as the Jem’Hadar were most likely assessing the best way to get through their next obstacle. Inside, nobody spoke. Every single man and woman armed with a weapon was now standing or kneeling behind the first barricade, their eyes and weapons trained at the door in front of them. Most of them were sweating profusely now. Everybody knew that their life might come to an abrupt end within the next minutes and yet most tried to ban those devastating thoughts out of their heads.

They gripped their rifles more firmly, clenched their teeth more tightly and narrowed their eyes more sharply in order to think of the one and only thought that mattered now. Kill as many of them as you can, as fast as you can.

For many, including Owens, the waiting was becoming the worst part of the battle. The tension in the room ran so high that he thought he could not only hear his own heartbeat but at least a dozen others as well.

He allowed himself a quick look around the room to perhaps catch a last glimpse at the men and women who would fight at his side. Some of which were his crew, his friends and perhaps even more.

Nora Laas stood at the far end of the first barricade and even though she had been through hell in the last few hours, maybe more so than the rest of them, she looked the least anxious about what was to come. She had been here before many times. She had been a fighter since childhood and Owens was certain that if nobody else would make it through this, she would.

Louise Hopkins stood next to her and the reason for that seemed obvious. She was the least experienced in Eagle’s away team. She had never been in a position like this before – except perhaps in simulated combat at the Academy or while taking part in Nora’s mandatory weapons training she had started for all of Eagle’s crew shortly after the war had broken out – and therefore she wanted to be close to somebody who knew exactly what they were doing. And Nora would make sure to watch out for her inexperienced friend.

Xylion seemed calm and calculated and Owens imagined that was exactly what he was doing at the moment. Calculating. How to best hold his weapon, how to do the maximum amount of damage and how to ensure their plan would work with a minimum of casualties. His tranquility also helped to make those around him less agitated.

DeMara Deen looked most out of place in the room. Even though her golden hair was wet and slightly less brilliant from dampening preparation she still looked more at home in a fairy tale than in a war zone. She might never have known about war when she was growing up on her harmonic home world but she looked as much a professional now as Xylion and Nora.

The Epsilon Twelve crew was a mixture of utter concentration and obvious desperation. To their credit, their leaders, Zalak and Monroe were completely dedicated to the task at hand. If either of them was a changeling, it was impossible for Owens to tell at this point. McAllister who was now the highest ranking officer next to the captain and Monroe seemed less self-assured and kept rubbing the palms of his sweaty hands against his pant legs.

“’And you, good yeomen, show us here the mettle of your pasture. Let us swear that you are worth your breeding – which I doubt not. For there is none of you so mean and base that hath not noble luster in your eyes.’”

Owens turned to look to his left. The words had been spoken quietly by Jana Tren. He offered a small smile when he realized that she had remembered one of his favorite passages from one of his favorite books. The words seemed chillingly appropriate.

“’I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start’,“ Michael Owens continued. “’The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and upon this charge …’“

“’Cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George.'” Both of them added in unison as their eyes redirected towards the blast door.

As if on cue a loud metallic noise echoed from the entrance.

“Steady!” Zalak implored.

An ear-shuttering explosion ripped the door to pieces.

“Fire!”

All hell broke loose.


*********

 

[Admiral2]

Re: Chapter XV - The Stand

At this point, it would serve So'Dan Leva right if D'karr took his head off with the batleth. He's done everything to make their private little war happen, and that last bit of accusation was just stupid. He needs to get spanked, and if D'Karr beheading him is the only method that will teach the lesson, so be it.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Re: Chapter XV - The Stand

The Leva-D'Karr feud has pretty much reached its climax now--people are dying because of it. While D'Karr's no innocent here, Leva has been acting more than a little childish.

And now we have Owens and Co. facing a full Jem'Hadar assault--not a pleasant situation to be in.

Pins and needles time...

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XV - The Stand

D’Karr shifted his weight ever so slightly and Leva took fool advantage of the opportunity. Pushing him back with all his force he managed to dislodge his weapon, freeing it up for another strike. He wasted no time, aiming straight for the Klingon’s head. D’Karr brought up his weapon to deflect the blow but only barely. The razor-sharp blade grazed his face, leaving behind a low cut on his cheek.

The Klingon didn’t even seem to notice. But the sight of his own blood suddenly spurred him on and just like that the tables were turned. The Klingon was on the offensive, delivering one powerful blow after another.

Leva could feel his grip on his weapon weaken and before he had a chance to find some room to withdraw to, the polearm was ripped out of his hands, leaving him utterly defenseless.

D’Karr used his large sword to pull his feet from underneath his body and throw Leva onto the ground. With one swift motion he brought the bat’leth up against his opponent’s throat.

For the half-Romulan it was all over and he knew it. But just as the Klingon was ready to slice his neck wide open he hesitated.

“What are you waiting for?” Leva spat.

The questioned elicited a curious look from the Klingon. “Do you wish to die, Romulan?”

“I am ready to die,” he lied, “content with the knowledge that I have finally proven your true and undeniable nature. Kill me like you killed all the others. With no remorse or regret. The women, the children, the old folk it makes no difference to you, does it? All you need is to see others destroyed by your hands. It doesn’t matter if they are able to fight or not. Nothing matters to you animals but to satisfy your own unbounded bloodlust. So go ahead. But I promise you this, my comrades and all of Starfleet will eventually learn what has happened here. They will hold you and all Klingons responsible for all the lives you have taken today. The lives of those you claimed to be your allies. They will know.” Leva’s voice had taken on a zealous tone, condemning not just one man but an entire race of people and their culture. It was no longer an opinion or a belief but profound personal memory which fueled his sermon. Deep painful memory.

D’Karr lowered his bat’leth. “What are you talking about?” he asked, for the first time sounding genuinely confused and irritated.

Leva answered by reaching out for the sword and ripping it out of the Klingon’s hands. But instead of turning it on D’Karr he discarded it. He jumped up grabbed hold of the Klingon’s collar and pushed him hard into the wall. “You’re all nothing but killers,” he screamed. “It’s all you are! Why are you denying your own nature?”

D’Karr easily freed himself and harshly pushed Leva back. “You are insane.”

“I am not the one who killed women and children, you are,” he retorted but did not attempt another attack. The memories were coming back now. The horrific screams of agony and the countless pleas for mercy, all of which had all gone unanswered. His friends and family he saw being taken apart in front of his very eyes. He had been so young and so frightened back then. It had debilitated him just like it did now.

The Klingon approached carefully now noticing the blank expression on the Romulan’s face. “Something happened to you, didn’t it? You witnessed something. A massacre?”

Leva turned away. He didn’t want to listen. Not to him, not to a Klingon. What could he know about pain and suffering except how to cause it?

“I can see it in your eyes,” the Klingon continued. “Your hate for my kind runs deeper than in other Romulans. Is it because of what they did to you?”

“They killed them all,” he said quietly his back still turned to D’Karr. “They came to our world without warning. They slaughtered whole cities, leaving behind nothing but corpses and dust. They massacred the children and women. My friends. My family,” he raced around. “You don’t care, you kill everything that lives!”

D’Karr didn’t reply right away. “I am not going to make excuses or apologies for what some Klingons have done in the past.”

Leva dismissed his statement.

“But not all Klingons are the same. I have never killed children or defenseless women and neither has any Klingon I have ever known. It would not been an honorable kill.”

“I am sick to death to hear about your honor. Where was that honor when those soldiers came to my planet?”

D’Karr merely shrugged and turned away to find his bat’leth. “Who knows? Maybe they were renegade troops or maybe they were cowards,” he said and found his weapon. “To be honest I don’t care. I do care about those Romulans that came to Narendra III to kill and slaughter Klingons,” he added and turned back to face Leva. “Do you think they made a difference between women and children? And what about the four-thousand souls the Romulans massacred at Kithomer? It didn’t matter to Romulans who they killed as long as it was Klingon blood they spilled.”

“It’s not the same,” Leva replied.

D’Karr raised his sword in the Romulan’s direction. “My house lost many good men at Khitomer, including young and old,” he said with anger flaring up in his voice. “I might not have been there but the stories are as cruel as anything I’ve ever seen.”

Nobody spoke. Leva felt unsure, irritated even confused. All his life he had been so comfortable in his hate for Klingons. And it had been easy too. He had never spoken to a Klingon before, never cared for what they had to say. But now how could he ignore what he knew to be right? The Khitomer Massacre and Narendra III were incidents well documented by Starfleet. A million conflicting emotions were now racing through his mind as it desperately tried to make sense out of emotions and facts.

He turned to pick up a Jem’Hadar rifle and a torch and then began to walk down the shaft.

“Where are you going?” the Klingon demanded.

Leva stopped and turned around. “We are here to find the captain and the away team and I intend on doing that,” he replied.

D’Karr simply starred at him.

The half-Romulan turned back around and continued down the shaft. “Are you coming or not?” he asked without looking back.

The Klingon didn’t have an answer to give. Instead he collected his gear and followed Leva, keeping a respectable distance for now.

******************

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XV - The Stand

Perhaps hell was the wrong word to describe the chaos which had ensued in Epsilon Twelve’s auxiliary control room.

At least in hell there was some sense of certainty that things couldn’t get much worse or at least so Owens believed. On the battlefield he stood on now, nothing was certain. Already he had seen a handful of the Starfleet crew fall and while they had managed to cut down the first two waves of Jem’Hadar soldiers there simply was no stopping them. For every one they killed three more appeared.

He fired his rifle relentlessly into the blur of grey mass in front of him. At first he had tried to pick his targets but now it seemed pointless. The smartest thing was to keep shooting and not to stop. The problem of course was the fact that his weapon did not have unlimited energy. A quick glance towards the ground revealed that he had only two fully charged power cells left, at his current rate that would last him four more minutes at the most.

At his side he still sensed Jana Tren’s presence. She had moved closer to him ever since the shooting had started and he wasn’t sure if it was for comfort or out of practicability. And even through of all the chaos and noise of battle and smell of burned flesh and plastics in the air he could still pick up the scent of her hair. It was no longer the same it had been many years ago but he had rapidly begun to like it.

Of course he couldn’t afford to concentrate on Tren. A group of four Jem’Hadar had just overwhelmed their left flank and moved deeper into the room. But they were not trying to finish off the Starfleet defenders; instead they were headed straight towards the back, towards the elevator and the remaining civilian scientists waiting to be evacuated.

Owens found Nora close by. “Lieutenant!” he yelled to make himself heard over the relentless noise of weapons fire.

The Bajoran looked up immediately. She noticed Owens gesturing towards the intruding Jem’Hadar. Without hesitation she grabbed two officers nearby and left her cover to intercept the charging soldiers.

“Watch out!” yelled Tren.

Owens turned back forward just in time to see a Jem’Hadar soldier collapsed a few inches in front of him. He had been cut down by the Betazoid just a heartbeat away from striking out against him.

“Thanks,” he replied and continued to fire on the next wave of approaching Jem’Hadar.

“We can’t hold this position any longer,” she said in a strained tone. “Zalak and Monroe are beginning to lose ground.”

The captain continued firing but afforded himself a quick glance to the right flank where the Bolian officer and his second-in-command had begun to take on the Jem’Hadar at extremely close range. The remaining attackers had begun to notice the weakness as well and were shifting their focus on pushing through.

Owens guessed that they had less than a minute before they were overrun. “Fall back!” he yelled loudly. “Fall back!”

He gestured at the few remaining crewmembers at his side to make for the barricade just a few feet behind them. Within moments most of the defenders took action, attempting to leave their quickly crumbling cover. Three of them were killed instantly, never even getting the chance to re-position themselves.

Owens shot two Jem’Hadar at close range as he tried to stay behind as long as possible in order to cover their short retreat. To his horror Tren stayed true to her word and remained at his side.

“I’m out,” she shouted, her voice suddenly taking on a pitch of panic.

Michael Owens didn’t feel much better. A Jem’Hadar solider was bearing down on her, approaching at full speed and she had no means of defending herself. While he saw the charge from the corner of his eye he couldn’t allow himself to switch targets for even a second or risk being blasted instantly. Without even thinking about his actions he freed up one arm and roughly pushed her backwards and over the crates making up the second barricade. She landed painfully but Owens ignored her moans, instead he rammed the front part of his rifle into the charging Jem’Hadar’s mid-section, practically ripping the air out of the soldiers’ lungs. His index finger jammed down hard on the trigger and the weapon fired at point blank range.

Owens had not expected the recoil effect. The powerful energy blast found immediate resistance and catapulted Owens backwards and over the barricade while tearing a gaping hole into Jem’Hadar. The fall saved his life as not an instant later another enemy solider had reached the now desolated outer barrier and opened fire at the Starfleet captain, missing him by just a hairline.

Owens could hear his bones crack as he landed harshly on his back right next to Tren. His eyes found hers. For a moment they simply looked at each other as if the world around them had not gone mad. They shared a moment that seemed to exist only in their minds.

That moment of course was over before it had even begun when a wide shadow fell over them. They looked upward to see the towering figure of a massive Jem’Hadar warrior. He looked like a giant towering over insects as he stood right on top of the barricade above them.

Owens knew instantly that they were doomed. His rifle had toppled out of his grip after his forceful landing and Tren’s weapon was out of power.

The Jem’Hadar smiled as he appeared to relish the sight of his defenseless prey below his feet. He considered them for less than a second before taking aim with his rifle.

He took too much time. An energy blast cut through his neck and his head jerked backwards with his body following an instant later.

Owens and Tren jumped back up at the same time neither finding the time to contemplate their near death nor allowing for the bliss of being still alive to take over. After all their demise might have only been delayed a little longer.

Tren easily caught a fresh energy cell that had been thrown her way. She jammed it into her rifle in one swift motion and joined Owens in returning fire as if nothing had happened.

The captain noticed that the Jem’Hadar had been slowed down slightly now that they had to cross two obstacles to get to them. But between the two barriers he could spot a number of Starfleet uniforms among the dead Jem’Hadar. Alive or dead seemed to matter little now; they would not be able to help them.

Nora came up from behind, kneeling next to Owens and adding her phaser once again to the sliming number of defenders. From the look in her eyes he had no doubt that it had been her who had killed the Jem’Hadar who had been so close from taking out Tren and himself.

“Report!” Owens wanted to know but kept his weapon running hot.

She slightly shook her head as she spoke. “They got to at least half the people in the back,” she replied right away. “The last of them are on the way to the lab as we speak. The lift should be back any minute now.”

Owens had no choice but to take his eyes off the battlefield. He ducked for cover and quickly examined the back. There were a number of unmoving bodies, most of them drenched in blood. Besides the dead nobody had remained. His eyes darted across the room, doing a rough count in the process. He estimated besides himself and Tren only about ten crewmembers being left, fighting a quickly losing battle. He had insisted that Hopkins and Deen left for the lab earlier. Without the time to argue they had quickly followed his instructions and made it safely into the lift. That meant that only Xylion and Nora from his crew and roughly seven from Epsilon Twelve’s, including Zalak, Monroe and McAllister were left.

He replaced the power cell of his weapon – the last one he could find – and came back up firing. “Laas, move down the line and get everybody ready to move. And you better have those surprises ready that you promised me.”

A vicious grin came over her lips just before she tugged in her head and made her way along the barricade.

“Mike,” Tren said in-between shots and evading the incoming fire. “There are more people here than we have room for in the turbo-lift.”

Owens nodded. “I know,” he said so quietly he doubted that she had heard him.

The remaining defenders managed to disable at least twenty more Jem’Hadar whose dead bodies were beginning to cover the entirety of the floor. It became quickly apparent however that they did no longer have the numbers to hold the second barricade or for that matter the room. The first barrier had been nearly pulverized by now, leaving little more to slow down the Jem’Hadar onslaught.

Owens caught Nora’s sign. They were ready. He quickly glanced behind him. The turbo-lift had returned and stood by to deliver six of them to safety. Less than ten meters separated Owens and the others from the lift but it may as well have been ten kilometers. Whatever Nora had in mind better be good or all of them would quickly join those who had fallen before them to make this place their final resting ground.

Owens gave her the thumbs-up to proceed. She acknowledged and then suddenly disappeared from sight. Panic was beginning to fill the captain. They were out of time. He could already see some of the men stop firing, no doubt because they had run out of ammunition.

Just then he felt something bounce against his foot. He looked down to find a small round device that had rolled up to him. The silver-colored ball was devoid of any features save for a small red indicator light that was now flashing at an increasingly faster pace.

He spotted Nora nodding at him from further down the barricade. She picked up a very similar device and flung it into the approaching mass of Jem’Hadar.

Owens understood and quickly followed suit. Moments later half a dozen of the devices dropped onto their enemies.

Each one exploded in a massive detonation, ripping the Jem’Hadar apart and throwing them into the air into every direction. The thunderous noise that accompanied each explosion threatened to rupture Owens’ eardrums. The force of the detonations was so powerful that it tore many of the soldiers apart limb from limb, showering the room with grisly blood and body parts. Owens and the others were spared from most of the carnage as a thick wall of fog instantly followed the explosions, drastically reducing visibility from one second to the next. It was their one and only chance at a retreat.

Owens took the lead, standing up and reaching out for Tren, grabbing her arm and pushing her callously towards the lift. He could tell by the expression on her face that he was hurting her but at that moment he didn’t care. He just wanted her in that lift. “Go!” he shouted and then turned to the others. “Go!”

Tren shot him an angry glare at his rough handling but complied, making haste towards the back. She was joined not a moment later by the rest of the Starfleet officers, each one now running for their lives not even daring to look back.

A handful remained behind, including Owens and Nora, firing blindly into the dense mist.

Figures began to emerge from the fog. The Jem’Hadar were regrouping faster than Owens had anticipated. He cut down the first two he could spot but within seconds there were more than he could possibly target. He began to move backwards as he fired.

He knew they had to get out now. He turned just in time to see Tren stumbling over the dead body of one of the unlucky scientists killed earlier. Another officer – he didn’t know his name – helped her back on his feet only to be pierced by two energy blasts coming out of the thick gray fog. Tren watched the young man in silence as he screamed in pain and dropped to the ground. She wanted to reach out and help him even while it seemed doubtful he was still alive.

“Jana, move, damnit!” Owens shouted at her.

She left her doomed rescuer be and hurried towards the lift.

Something grabbed Owens from behind pushing him forward. It was Nora. “Sir, we have to get out of here!” she shouted as she continued to push him while firing at every target that she could find, nearly every blast connecting with an enemy.

She wasn’t taking no for an answer and didn’t let up. When Owens turned back around again he realized that the fog was begging to thin but at the same time expanding throughout the room, making it almost impossible to distinguish between friend and foe. There were dozens of figures moving towards them now and while most of them had to be the enemy some were not.

Owens decided to take Nora’s advice and made a run for it. No longer paying attention to what was happening behind him he simply darted towards the lift. He arrived seconds later, finding Jana Tren and Xylion already waiting for him. Nora was the next one in.

“Are you alright?” Owens asked Jana right away.

The Betazoid nodded. “Yes, but some of our people are still alive out there,” she said pointing at the veil of fog. “I can sense them.”

Owens turned. There were two figures approaching the lift. He brought up his rifle instinctively but before he could even consider firing both collapsed, having been shot from behind. He could only make out a hand that had had belonged to the one of the bodies, now lying motionless on the ground a few short feet away from the lift. It was distinctly human.

“We can’t wait any longer,” Nora urged. “If we stay nobody will get out alive.”

“Give them another few seconds,” Tren replied as she and the others went on their knees in order to avoid incoming fire.

Another figure emerged and Nora took immediate aim.

“Hold you fire,” said Owens who noticed something familiar about the shape. It was a humanoid man and he appeared dark with a bald head.

It was Germaine McAllister who arrived with heavy, labored breaths.

“Is there anybody else out there?” Owens asked.

But the young ensign seemed too exhausted, too shaken up to speak.

Owens wanted to try again to get an answer out of the scared young man but was interrupted by Xylion.

“Sir!”

The Vulcan was indicating towards another approaching figure. She was female and before Owens even knew who she was Nora had quickly blocked the entrance to the lift, pointing her phaser straight at the newcomer and keeping her from boarding the lift. “Not a chance you’re coming in here.”

If looks had the ability to kill Nora would have been burned alive by Shelby Monroe’s piercing eyes. “Step aside, Lieutenant!”

A blue energy blast shot passed the two women and shook the lift as it impacted against the wall.

Jana Tren winced in pain.

Owens whipped around, finding the Betazoid on the floor of the lift. The blast had struck her in the arm, blood quickly drenching her sleeve.

“Get this lift moving now!” Owens shouted as and knelt down next to the injured Tren.

“Understood,” Nora replied but kept her eyes on Monroe. “But you’re not coming.”

“You will not leave me behind!” she screamed.

With relief Owens found Tren still conscious, her face was a grimace of pain however. She was holding her injured arm, tears shooting into her eyes from the agony she felt. She still managed to glance at the captain with a determined look on her face. “Take her,” she whispered.

“Commander Monroe,” he said while working on a makeshift bandage. “Get in here and let’s get this goddamn thing moving!”

Nora turned at Owens as if he had just lost his mind. “Sir, she’s a changeling. If we take her we won’t get to the lab alive.”

“Now!” Owens said in a voice as firm as steel. He would allow no more argument over the issue. All their lives were hanging by a quickly unraveling thread and every second they delayed it was coming closer to snapping clear off.

Nora realized this and as much as she disagreed she knew she had to follow his orders. She pointed her rifle straight at Monroe’s forehead. “Your weapon.”

Two more purple-hued energy blasts hit the interior of the lift in quick succession, nearly vaporizing the Vulcan’s head.

“What?”

“You want to come? Surrender your weapon.”

Monroe didn’t hesitate and handed over her phaser rifle. Nora took it and swiftly stepped aside. Monroe nearly jumped into the lift.

A Jem’Hadar soldier leaped out of the fog like a shark breaking the surface to come in for the kill. He was getting close enough to reach into the still stationary car.

“Computer,” Nora shouted, “depart!”

The Bajoran had noticed the Jem’Hadar from the corner of her eye. She whipped around, bringing both rifles she held in each hand to bear at the same time and fired. The twin beams stopped the attacker in mid air, forcefully pushing him backwards.

Nora never saw his body land however as the doors finally closed shut and the lift set in motion.


--------------------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter XVI - Underground

 

[Dulak]

Re: Chapter III - Recuperation

OK, thought I'd sit down for a quick read. I got through chapter three and then realized I had three more sections. Not going ot be quick, but it will be enjoyable. I have really enjoyed the initial story stting and character development.

I have skipped forward from where Tempis Fugit is currently, and since I'm waiting for that to continue, thought I'd catch up on the newer story.

To your credit Cejay, I'm having no trouble reading this as a stand alone story. Characters are clearly deliniated by their actions and dialogue. They're interesting as well.

I'll give some more feedback as reading permits.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Re: Chapter III - Recuperation

You do write good actions scenes, CeJay. That was a nice scene between Leva and D'Karr as Leva finally let out all that anger and bitterness he's kept to himself and D'Karr forced him to realize that it cut both ways. Hopefully now the two will at least be able to put aside their feelings long enough to work together--they don't have to like each other, but they do have to get the job done.

 

[CeJay]

Chapter XVI - Underground

Chapter XVI – Underground



Nora Laas never took her eyes or the two phaser rifles off Shelby Monroe, well aware by now that a shapeshifter didn’t need any weapons at all to kill.

The commander ignored the Bajoran security chief entirely and instead focused on the only other officer of her crew who had made it out of the auxiliary control room. “What happened to the captain?” she asked.

Germaine McAllister looked at her and then back at Nora as if he needed permission to speak to her.

“I asked you a question, Ensign,” Monroe said more forcefully this time.

McAllister slowly shook his head. “He didn’t make it. I watched them slaughter him. There … there was nothing I could do.” he finally replied in an unsteady tone. “I should’ve tried harder.”

“You did what you could,” replied Monroe in a tone too sharp to befit the sentiment.

Michael Owens in the meantime had Tren’s bleeding under control. He was not going to be able to stop it but he had slowed it down and the injury didn’t appear to be life threatening.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, quietly enough for only her to hear him.

She looked up into his blue eyes with surprise. “For what?”

“I know I pushed you pretty hard up there.”

She cracked a smile. “I guess I was being a bit stubborn.”

“You can say that again.”

“Hey,” she said with feigned anger.

Owens mirrored her smile.

The lift came to a stop and the doors parted.

Owens helped Jana Tren back on her feet and as they stepped out they quickly found a large gathering of people welcoming them. Owens sighed with relief to find Deen and Hopkins uninjured.

“Are you the last group?” Deen asked as she looked over the survivors. She hid well the fact that she had never been happier to see Michael Owens alive and well. But so many others had already given their life that it was exceedingly difficult for her to feel anything but anguish about all that had happened so far.

Owens nodded sadly.

The Betazoid quickly turned towards a nearby console. “I’m initiating a complete lockdown of the facility,” she said as she went to work.

Owens wanted to stop her and remind her to take it easy now that she was injured but he understood what she had to do. “How save exactly are we down here.”

Tren finished entering a few commands which promptly shut the open turbo-lift doors. A few explosions up above them caused the floor to shudder and everyone present gasped as they looked upwards, suddenly fearing that the ceiling would come down on them at any moment.

When Jana Tren looked at Owens her face was a mask of utter confidence however. “I just collapsed the only access point to this lab. There is no way for the Jem’Hadar to get to us.”

Louise Hopkins stepped forward. “Wait a minute,” she said, “does that mean we’re stuck down here?”

She slowly nodded her head.

Doctor Santesh-Yardo, the lead scientist on the Archangel project, pushed himself through the throng of people around Tren and Owens. He looked panicked. “Who is responsible for this?” he asked once he had made it through the crowd. “What is the meaning of this? You can’t all be down here?”

“Doctor,” Owens tried to calm him down by putting a hand on his shoulder. “We didn’t have a choice.”

But the Grazerite didn’t want to hear it. Instead he singled out the Betazoid. “You of all people should know that you can’t bring all these people down here. What is the matter with you?”

The Federation agent didn’t seem perturbed by the accusations. She had not liked the idea either but now on hindsight she had to admit that it had been their only option. “Doctor, if we hadn’t come down here the Jem’Hadar would have –“

“You don’t know that!” he protested quickly, interrupting the Betazoid. “By bringing these people here you have seriously endangered – “

Now it was Tren’s turn to cut him off and when she did her voice boomed like it never had before. “Will you shut up for one damn minute!”

Santesh-Yardo was taken aback physically by the force of her voice.

Every other conversation in the room had ceased instantly and all eyes now rested on the Betazoid. Michael Owens, equally surprised by the outburst, took a small step towards her but stopped when she raised a hand to keep him back. She calmly brushed through her sweat drenched black hair and took a deep breath before speaking again. “I apologize, doctor,” she said quietly, visibly trying to center herself again after having lost control.

The scientist didn’t find words.

She took a sharp breath before continuing in a calm and steady tone. “The fact of the matter is that we are down here now. Buried under hundreds of tons of solid rock, completely cut off from the outside world. I estimate we have enough energy and food to keep us alive for a week or so. That is if the Jem’Hadar don’t find a way to get to us by then. Otherwise, unless any form of rescue arrives, all of us, as well as Project Archangel are finished. Those are the facts and there isn’t a thing we can do to change them now.”

The vast underground lab remained entirely silent. Everyone needed a few moments to come to terms with the implications of her explanation. Only a few minutes earlier most of them had been faced with a quick and violent death by the Jem’Hadar, now however they looked at a slow and miserable demise with plenty of time to think about how they would face the end. Many started to think that perhaps trading their fates in this manner had been a very bad idea.

The group of scientists and Starfleet officers began to scatter, there was after all plenty of room in the lab and the adjacent facilities for each of them to find their own personal space to die.

“Doctor,” Owens said and approached Santesh who appeared to have clamed down considerably since Tren’s outburst. But the captain eyes were now focusing on the large device behind the scientist. “Archangel is supposed to kill Jem’Hadar, is it not?”

Santesh quickly shook his head. “I know what you are thinking and the answer is no.”

Owens looked at him with angry eyes. “This is not the time to keep playing the secrecy game.”

“I am not,” he replied defensively. “We are still weeks away from having Archangel ready to be deployed. At the moment the electro-magnetic pulse it emits is still highly erratic. We have no idea what it will do to the Jem’Hadar at this stage. Besides it suffers from critical power fluctuations.”

“What would happen if we turned it on?” he asked.

“The influx matrix is still not able to convert all the required power to the necessary modulation that –“

“In plain English, Doctor.”

“It would self-destruct and probably eradicated everything in a two mile radius along with it,” Santesh said.

“Well if you were looking for a quicker way to get us out of our misery you found it,” Deen joked with little apparent humor. Even the eternal optimist could no longer contest reality.

However Louise Hopkins has been thinking about the problem ever since Santesh had mentioned it. Her technical mind was racing. “Basically the machine is overheating its main power coils because it cannot adapt to the immense power it requires to initiate the electro-magnetic waves,” she said more to herself than to anybody else in particular.

Santesh whipped around to look at her, not sure if to be impressed by her understanding or concerned that she had already figured out what made the best kept secret in the Federation tick. “Correct.”

“Do you have a solution, Lieutenant?” Owens asked her, eliciting a scowl from the scientist who refused to accept that this young woman could solve a problem they hadn’t been able to overcome in weeks.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Somebody could manually adjust the influx matrix, I guess.”

Santesh shook his head. “That would work for maybe a few minutes at best.”

Hopkins nodded in agreement.

“I don’t see how any of this will help us at the moment,” interjected Tren. “In case you have forgotten we are buried deep underground with no way out.”

Owens looked at her, suddenly realizing that she was still in pain. She held her injured arm awkwardly. “You need medical attention. Do you have supplies down here?”

“There is a small infirmary in the back,” she replied.

“Let me take you,” he said and then to Hopkins and Santesh: “I want you to keep thinking of a way to get this machine working.” He ignored their incredulous looks as he began to lead Tren away.

“Lieutenant, if you don’t get these goddamn weapons out of my face soon I swear I’ll lose it.”

Owens sighed and both he and Tren turned to see a fuming Shelby Monroe, ready to lash out at Nora who stood just a few short meters away undeterred at keeping her phaser rifles pointed at the commander.

“Go ahead,” Nora taunted, “give me a reason.”

Doctor Santesh had not yet noticed that Monroe was apparently kept as a prisoner and was now quickly approaching the scene. “What is going on here?”

“Keep your distance, Doctor,” Nora said, keeping her eyes on the blond-haired officer. “This one is a shapeshifter.”

Panic flashed across the Grazerites’ face. “You brought a changeling down here?” he almost squeaked. “Are you insane?” He quickly stepped backward, his eyes darting to find Owens.

The captain sighed. “Go ahead,” he said to Tren. “I deal with this and catch up with you.”

But the Betazoid was clearly reluctant to do so and hesitated.

“Please,” he said calmly.

She finally nodded and left for a pair of door panels close by.

Owens approached Santesh, Nora and her prisoner. “We are not certain if she is a shapeshifter, Doctor,” he explained and then looked at Nora. “But we need to find a solution to this. If she is a changeling we need to deal with her accordingly.”

“We don’t have the facilities down here to restrain a changeling,” Santesh said.

“We should never have brought her down here to begin with,” the Bajoran added, keeping her watchful gaze on her prisoner.

Monroe took a small step towards Owens but was quickly stopped in her tracks by Nora moving into her way. Both guns leveled at her head.

“I am sick of this,” the commander said. “Take a blood sample. That will prove I am who I say I am.”

“Nice try,” Nora shot back. “You probably killed the real Monroe and absorbed her blood in case you needed it.”

“There might be another way,” Santesh said suddenly.

Owens looked at him with an asking expression.

“We developed a few anti-changeling substances in order to kill shapeshifters. We gave up on it once we began to concentrate on Archangel but in theory the substance should be able to tell us if she is a changeling or not,” he explained, nervously looking back and forth between the captain and Monroe.

“What kind of substance is this?” the commander wanted to know.

“Getting scared?” Nora asked with a vicious smile.

She ignored the Bajoran. “What kind of effect will it have on non-changelings?”

Owens turned to Santesh. “It’s a valid question.”

“We cannot be certain. You have to understand that we never got into the testing phase either with changelings or not. But the formula contains an extremely high concentration of zellizine which could be very painful if not deadly to most humanoids. In theory it would force any changeling to retract back into its glutinous form within a short period of time.”

Monroe took a small step back, deep concern now mirrored on her face. “You can’t ask me to go through that procedure.”

Nora simply smirked. “How soon can you have it ready?”

“Ten minutes, maybe less,” the scientist replied.

Owens looked at Monroe who suddenly seemed a lot less sure of herself. He couldn’t tell if it was because she feared to be revealed for what she truly was or because the procedure could end up killing her. “Get it done,” he said and walked away.

“Captain!” Monroe called after him. “You can’t let them do this!”

But Owens was trying hard to ignore her. He didn’t turn, didn’t even slow. Instead he left the lab with a determined pace.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this,” Nora said.

*********************

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

It had become quickly obvious that they were on the right track. The mine shafts had not only become wider but were also clearly newer and more symmetrical than the tunnels they had traversed before.

The most obvious indication that they were close to their target however came when they reached a large sized chamber which was well lit and full of Jem’Hadar soldiers.

Leva and D’Karr had taken positions near a ledge which dropped deep into the cavern below. Besides the soldiers the chamber was also filled with various machinery, some of which looked as if it had been used only very recently.

“There must be at least forty men down there,” stated Leva, lying flat on his stomach next to the Klingon a good twenty meters above the cavern floor.

“We can take them.”

“You can’t be serious,” the Romulan replied and shot the warrior an incredulous look. “There is no chance the two of is could-“ he stopped in mid-sentence when he spotted the small grin forming on the Klingon’s lips. “A joke?”

D’Carr looked at the Romulan. “Who said Klingons don’t have a sense of humor?”

Leva turned back to look down at the assembled enemy force.

“It would be a glorious battle,” the Klingon said quietly to himself.

“It looks as if a few of them are working on something at that far wall,” Leva observed, ignoring D’Karr. The Jem’Hadar he was referring to were moving back and forth near the wall setting up a device of sorts but he couldn’t identify what it was. “The rest of them seem to be just waiting.”

Something else had suddenly caught D’Karr’s attention and he quickly moved away from the edge. “We’re not alone.”

“Really?” Leva said with annoyance.

Once he was clear of the ledge he pounced back onto his feet, reaching immediately for his bat’leth.

This startled Leva and he began to follow suit, reaching for his own weapon. He was not going to be the fool who got killed because he didn’t heed the warning. “More Jem’Hadar?”

But the Klingon didn’t reply. Instead he carefully scanned their surroundings. Their position was not ideal to fight off an attack. The ledge behind them would have instantly revealed them to the Jem’Hadar army below if they stepped to close and three other paths lead up or down from their plateau. The enemy could approach from any of those directions.

The Klingon tensed up significantly and Leva couldn’t help but worry. They were completely exposed on all sides.

D’Karr lowered his sword, throwing Leva a somewhat annoyed glance. “I know this smell,” he said.

“What smell?”

“Humans.”

The Romulan perceived movement form the corner of his eye and whipped around to face whoever was trying to sneak up to them. He was immediately outnumbered and outgunned.

Three Marines had managed to get within five meters, their weapons leveled straight at him.

The red-haired soldier in charge lowered his weapon and his two comrades followed suit. “Friendlies,” he said quietly.

Leva managed well to hide his relief when he realized that they had not been ambushed by the enemy and lowered his own weapon. “Where the hell have you been?” he asked angrily mostly to mask his own anxiety. He glanced at the Klingon who had remained completely still, apparently having anticipated the Marines.

“Good to see you too.”

Leva turned into the other direction to spot Major Wasco and his Vulcan staff sergeant approaching. He gestured to his men. “Secure the surrounding and stand by for further orders.”

The three Marines acknowledged with a curt nod and rapidly redeployed.

“Are you and your men alright?” asked Leva, trying to deflect from his previously sharp tone.

“No casualties to Alpha or Charlie teams,” Wasco explained curtly. “I haven’t seen or heard from Bravo since we split up.”

Leva nodded slowly. “We were separated during an enemy engagement. Corporal Adenji didn’t survive.”

The major acknowledged the report matter-of-factly and then turned to the Klingon. “Shinsky informed me over the disagreement you had with him?”

“What happened?” Leva asked.

When the Klingon didn’t reply Wasco did so for him. “Apparently they couldn’t decided which way to take and so Mister D’Karr here decided to go off by himself,” he looked back at the Klingon, apparent anger now flaring up in his eyes. “You had specific orders, Lieutenant. I expected you to follow them.”

“Your men are able warriors but lousy pathfinders,” the Klingon growled.

That had not been the answer Wasco had wanted to hear but Leva interceded before he could retort. “We need to figure out what to do about that Jem’Hadar battalion down there,” he said calmly.

The Marines commander shot the Romulan an astonished look. He had expected Leva to be the first to leap onto his side. Instead he seemed more interested in putting the entire matter to rest. Wasco quickly took on a more professional expression. “We do not have the numbers to take them on directly.”

“Whatever it is they are doing,” he continued, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it directly relates to why we are here.”

Both Leva and D’Karr seemed to agree with that assessment.

The Klingon turned away from the two men. “We might not be able to survive a frontal attack but what if we could even the odds a little bit?”

“What do you have in mind?” Leva wondered.

D’Karr turned back to face him, a sparkle in his eyes now.


****************

 

[Captain2395]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

I've been catching up on this fic. Lot's of action. I didn't think I'd like fics with too much militarism but this has taken me in. I like the antagonism involving Leva and D'Karr and the situation they're in.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

Very taut and well done. As I said earlier, you do write action scenes well. D'Karr and Leva now seem to have achieved at least a rough truce--long enough to hopefully pull Owens and the others' fat out of the fire.

Now, is the shapeshifter Monroe or is she going to pay a painful price because she's a hardnose no one likes?

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

Thanks guys.

And Captain2395 thanks for checking this out. If you like Cry Havoc I suggest you check out the Tempus Fugit repost. It is the first entry of the series and a whole lot less militaristic.

I've been following your work quite closely as well but haven't managed to catch up yet. So far I'm really enjoying the mystery. It is a very atmospheric piece of writing.

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

Jana Tren was rummaging through the content of a medical drawer to find some sort of sedative that would relieve her of the burning pain in her wounded arm when Owens entered the infirmary.

“Take a seat,” he said sternly, pointing at one of the two empty bio-beds in the small medical facility.

She shot him an evil look which quickly gave way to a playful smile. “Yes, Doctor,” she said and hopped onto the bio-bed.

The captain walked towards the cabinet to find the necessary tools to mend her injuries. “It’s been a while since I’ve had my first aid training,” he explained as he picked up the dermal regenerator and a mild relaxant. “But I’ll try not to make this hurt,” he added and turned back towards her. “Much.”

But Tren’s facial expression had become much more thoughtful now. “Do you think she’s a changeling?”

“I’m not sure,” he said and approached her. “All I know for certain is that there is a shapeshifter on this outpost and he – it – has infiltrated Epsilon Twelve long before we ever came here. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.

She shook her head in disbelief. “He was right under our nose and we didn’t notice. It’s unforgivable.”

Owens could sense that the Betazoid was all too ready to take full responsibility for this breach. “You can’t blame yourself, Jan. These changelings have fooled all of us on plenty of occasions. One of it lead the entire Klingon Empire into an unfounded war.”

She uttered a sarcastic laugh. “As if the Klingons need a reason to go to war.”

“If Monroe is the changeling we’ll find out. Try not to worry about it for now and let me take care of you,” he replied, lifting up the medical tools to stress his point.

She nodded and tried to relax.

“Take off your shirt.”

Jana looked at him with an incredulous expression on her face.

“I need to take care of that wound,” he said innocently.

“Of course,” she replied sarcastically but then quickly lowered the zipper of her top. “Now I know why you wanted to treat me so badly.”

“I find your implications utterly inappropriate,” he said and suddenly became very preoccupied with his instruments when Tren finally discarded her shirt, leaving her clad in nothing but a flimsy halter top. He applied the relaxant to her upper arm before removing the improvised bandage and cleaning the wound.

Jana looked right into his eyes while he worked on her, a small smile formed on her face when she noticed that he made every effort not to look at her. She knew he wanted to.

The procedure took less than a minute. The dermal regenerator quickly mended the broken flesh and skin and soon nothing remained but dried blood.

“There, good as new,” he said and began to turn away in order to dispose of the instruments. He froze when he felt her hand holding him back. When he looked up to meet her eyes he was surprised to find that they had become watery. “Jana, what is it?” he asked concerned.

“I … I don’t know, it’s just …”

Even though she didn’t finish her sentence it was becoming increasingly obvious to him that she was suffering. She was sending out a mixture of emotions, some so strong that even he as a non-telepath was beginning to be affected by them. For the first time Owens realized the amount of pressure the Betazoid had been under over the last few hours. Probably even longer. She was in charge – as far as he knew – of the most devastating weapons project ever conceived by the Federation and now it was quickly becoming its greatest failure as well as its greatest threat. She had seen people killed and die in front of her eyes and now she had marooned them deep inside a planet with seemingly no hope of escape. She was no longer able to hold back the desperation she felt, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.

Owens hugged her tightly. It was inappropriate perhaps but he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to be there for her and he would start right now. The black-haired woman welcomed the embrace and she rested her head on his shoulders, enjoying the once familiar feel of his body.

“We’re going to get through this, Jan. I know we will,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. It wasn’t nearly as much as he had hoped.

“You’re a good liar,” she said, wiping away her tears.

He didn’t reply. There was little point to try and mislead a Betazoid. It had always made their relationship more challenging.

“Do you remember when you asked me if I was married?” she said, her head still on his shoulders.

Michael Owens didn’t quite know how to answer the question. Of course he had remembered. But did he really want an answer? Now of all times.

“The truth is,” she began, “that I was very close. There was a man in my life. I loved him or at least I thought I did. He was somebody I worked with very closely.”

“What happened?”

She dried her tears on his shirt before continuing. “He was in charge of the security detail to protect Archangel,” she said and swallowed. “He was on that transport ship with the rest of his men.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jana Tren freed herself gently from Owens. “You want to know the irony about this? He never even wanted the job in the first place. It was me who convinced him to take it. I killed him, Michael.”

“You don’t know he’s dead.”

She shook her head. “I know he is. I can feel it.”

Owens understood. If anyone else had made such a claim he would have disregarded it as a sentimental illusion but with Betazoids it was different. Some of them could create powerful and real telepathic links to others they cared a great deal about.

She turned away. “Even worse I don’t think I ever loved him the way he loved me. I think he only agreed to take the position so he could be close to me.”

“I don’t blame him.”

She turned to face him. “Do you really still love me, Mike?”

He nodded firmly and without hesitation. “I do.”

Jana didn’t hesitate either when she forced her lips onto his, kissing him passionately. Michael Owens eagerly took everything she gave him.

She laughed when they separated again. It was a bitter sweet sound. “I guess I have a thing about picking doomed men, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “We’re both doomed,” he said, “why not make the best of it while we still can?”

“That reminds me. There was something we started – back on your ship – but we never got the chance to finish it.” A playful smile appeared on her lips now and her fingers darted out for his chest.

“Do you really think this is the right place or time for this?”

“It’s the only place and time we’ve got,” she said as she moved closer. “Don’t worry, this room is completely sound proof,” she whispering in his ear.


***********************

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

The assembled Jem’Hadar forces had not been expecting an attack and so when it came it caught them completely unprepared.

Three soldiers fell even before they could return fire. After that the remaining Dominion soldier’s jumped into battle mode like they had been born to do. They unleashed a carpet of deadly discharges aimed at their attackers hidden within the maze like tunnel system.

Their mistake had been to assume their enemy was positioned in only one location. Within moments the Jem’Hadar found themselves under fire from four different directions, each new attack forcing them to quickly re-shift their positions which cost them dearly.

The commander of the Dominion forces soon realized that their position was untenable, leaving them wide open to attack from all sides. There was only one valid tactical response. Overwhelm the enemy with superior numbers.

The commands were giving quickly and precisely and without hesitation the large group of Jem’Hadar soldiers splintered off to rush the enemy.

“Fall back, fall back!” shouted the man in charge of the attack force when he noticed the Jem’Hadar’s plan.

The attacking soldiers hastily withdrew deeper into the mines to put some distance to the approaching waves of relentless killing machines, fully aware that they were outnumbered and outgunned. However if their hope had been to escape the Jem’Hadar it was quickly crushed by their ferocious persistence. The Jem’Hadar had tasted blood and nothing but the complete destruction of the enemy would stop them now.

So’Dan Leva peaked out from behind a large, mobile drilling platform where he had been hiding. He had not liked the plan to begin with and now that he could spot the five Jem’Hadar soldiers which had been left behind he was even less enthused.

Nevertheless he was determined to go through with it. After all it was the best chance they had.

He quietly took aim at one of the soldiers and squeezed the trigger of his type-two phaser. The orange-red beam hit him square in the chest and he collapsed immediately.

Before his comrades could react Leva ran out from behind his cover, opening fire at the four Jem’Hadar which were now brining up their rifles to target him.

Running across the large chamber threw Leva’s aim off and he managed to connect with only one of the Jem’Hadar, grazing his shoulder. The bulky soldier didn’t even seem to notice.

The half-Romulan leaped towards the safety of a lorry just as the Jem’Hadar were returning fire. He landed in the dirt and behind the mining cart, suddenly very relieved that all his body parts were still attached to him. The lorry shuddered and shook dangerously under the force of the incoming fire and Leva doubted very much it would be able to provide cover for long.

A roar filled the chamber and suddenly Leva was no longer the prime target. When he spied out from behind his cover he realized why.

The Jem’Hadar had turned towards the source of the battle cry which was coming from above them. Leva could hardly believe it. D’Karr was sailing through the air, apparently having leaped off from the ledge far above and was now aiming straight for the four standing Jem’Hadar soldiers. He held out his large bat’leth sword in front of him like a shield, seemingly unperturbed by the ground racing towards him.

The Dominion soldiers did not have time to take aim or for that maater to move out of the way. The Klingon smashed into three of them, knocking them all to the ground.

Leva – realizing his chance – came out from behind the lorry and instantly took out the fourth Jem’Hadar who had been lucky enough to be missed by the flying Klingon.

Two other Jem’Hadar had apparently been sliced wide open on impact. D’Karr was back on his feet roughly at the same time the final Jem’Hadar had recovered from the surprising attack. Both of them were covered in blood from injuries sustained from the collision. But the Klingon seemed less concerned about them. Seizing the initiate instantly, he head-butted his opponent and then masterfully swung his bat’leth back and forth, seemingly playing for a dramatic finish. By the time the Jem’Hadar went for his rifle it was already to late. D’Karr brought his sword down with all his might, the razor-sharp blade nearly cutting the solider in two. The battle was over.

The Klingon took a deep breath, looking over his fallen enemies as if expecting them to congratulate him on his victory.

“Nice work,” Leva said as he walked passed the Klingon, barely even acknowledging his presence. Instead he continued to the far wall were the Jem’Hadar had installed a still unknown device.

D’Karr looked up. “Nice work? This was a battle worth of song and celebration. Stories of this day shall be told until the end of days.”

“There won’t be any stories to tell if we’re all dead,” Leva said and began to investigate the device. “And we will be if those Jem’Hadar return.”

The Klingon raised his blood covered sword, looking into the direction the main part of the Dominion force had rushed off to. “Let them come,” he said with pulsating bloodlust in his eyes.

Leva just shook his head and decided to focus on the machinery in front of him instead. It was not much more than a padd-sized, rectangular little device which was attached directly to the wall at eye level. The display was showing alien text and what he guessed to be numbers in a language he could not read. Of even greater concern were the large barrel-like canisters lined up against the wall, each one connected by thin wires to the display device.

“What is it?” the Klingon wanted to know after Leva had fallen quiet to study what he had found.

“Explosives, I think,” he replied. “A lot of them.”

“They’re trying to blow through the wall,” D’Karr concluded.

Leva nodded. “Yes.”

“Then we too want to get through this wall.”

Leva was in agreement. But he could make neither heads nor tails out of what was quiet obviously the detonator.

As he began to try and understand how the device worked, the Klingon suddenly turned away from the wall again, looking off into the distance. A feral smile was coming onto his lips. The enemy was returning.

The tactical officer had seen detonators before and most of them worked on a very basic level which rarely differed much. He was well versed in most weapon designs and he knew that he just needed the right combination to take control of the device. He ventured an attempt by entering a simple mathematical sequence into the input field of the detonator.

The result was not what he had expected. He took a small step back when the text suddenly turned a bright red. The number and digits were beginning to change at an ever increasing rate.

“Run,” he said quietly.

“Klingons do not run from their enemies,” D’Karr replied, keeping his eyes focus on the tunnel maze in front of him.

“This time,” Leva said. “You’ll might want to make an exception.”

The warrior looked at Leva’s blank expression and then at the rapidly changing display. A whining tone was emanating from the device now, gaining pitch by the second.

“Run!” Leva shouted again and sped away as fast as he could.

D’Karr quickly decided that some dangers could not be faced by strength and courage alone. When he ran off to follow Leva he was moving faster than he had ever done before.


********************************************

 

[CeJay]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

She had protested vividly but in the end Shelby Monroe had been given no choice but to sit in a specially modified chair with her arms tightly restraint at her sides to keep her from escaping.

Nora realized – and had pointed out – that for a shapeshifer to get out of that chair would be a matter of ease. With no other alternative present she had decided to remain near Monroe with her phaser rifle pointed straight at her head.

The Grazerite scientist and two of his assistants in the meantime had prepared the anti-changeling vaccine and were going through last minute adjustments to the formula. “The standard dose,” Santesh-Yardo began, “is one-hundred fifty cc’s. That amount should ensure that the changeling will no longer be able to maintain any solid form and retract to a semi-liquid state. However I need to point out that if this dose is applied to a humanoid it will most likely be terminal.”

“Are you willing to risk killing me, Lieutenant?” Monroe asked through clenched teeth, glaring at the Bajoran officer. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’ll take that chance,” she replied coldly and looked at the scientist. “Do it.”

Monroe quickly shook her head. “You can’t possibly make that call.”

Nora put the muzzle of her rifle closer to Monroe’s head. “Somebody please shut this thing up already or I swear I will.”

“She has a point, Laas,” Deen interjected softly. “It is the captain’s decision.” The Tenarian officer had observed the icy interchange between Monroe and Nora in silence ever since the conflict had begun. She knew Nora was not as heartless as she led on but she also understood that she needed satisfaction for the death of Edison. Obviously this was not the means to achieve this but at the moment Nora had no other way to vent her incredible anger and frustration and even Deen had to admit that the suspicion that Monroe was the same shapeshifter who had killed the first officer was quiet plausible. Her sense of morality would not allow her to ignore however the possibility that she was indeed who she claimed she was.

Nora had not wanted to hear this and looked at the younger woman as if she had been betrayed. The same cold eyes she had reserved for Monroe now shot holes into the Tenarian. “The captain made it quiet clear what he wanted to be done. And we will execute his wishes.”

Santesh-Yardo seemed torn. He looked at the three women before him, not sure if to administer the deadly hypo-spray he now held or not.

“Doctor,” Lieutenant Commander Xylion said, “the active ingredient in your vaccine is zellizine, correct?”

Santesh nodded. “That is correct.”

“If you were to apply a lower dose and compensate with trilizerine you should be able to achieve similar effects.”

“I believe so,” the scientist replied, giving the suggestion a moment of thought. “Theoretically the changeling would still have to change forms after being injected with both substances.”

“And what if I’m not a changeling?” Monroe asked.

Santesh-Yardo avoided to look at the blonde woman directly but replied nevertheless. “It would not be deadly but quite painful. Trilizerine heats up the human blood stream significantly.”

Deen looked skeptical. “Is there no other alternative?”

“We could stand here and debate for days what would be the most pleasant way of testing this changeling,” Nora stated with clearly dwindling patience. “Let’s get this over with now.”

“I concur,” Xylion said. As the highest ranking officer present he felt confident in issuing the order to proceed. It was also quiet logical. The captain himself had indicated that he wanted them to go through with the test. If Shelby Monroe was a shapeshifter they would find out as soon as she was unable to maintain her form. If she was not she would experience pain but would still be alive. Under normal circumstances the Vulcan might have objected to this treatment but these were not normal circumstances. Not even by a long shot. “Doctor, please apply the low dosage vaccine.”

“Very well,” he replied and turned to his assistants to hand back the hypo-spray. “Adjust the formula to a dose containing fifty cc’s zellizine and tilizerine.”

As the scientists went to work Nora moved in closer to Monroe to whisper into her ear. “Try to hold out as much as you can but I promise you the second your pretty face starts morphing I’ll blow it right off your fake shoulders.”

Monroe locked eyes with the Bajoran. “Enjoy this as long as you can, Nora. Once we’re through with this the only uniform you’ll ever wear again is a prison jumpsuit.”

The security chief’s rebuttal was cut short by a hand being placed on her upper arm. It was Deen’s. Nora stood and took a few steps away from Monroe always making sure to keep her rifle pointed in her direction.

“Laas, aren’t you taking this a bit too personal? I know what this changeling has done but even so-“

“I appreciate your concern, Dee,” Laas cut her off. “But I know what I’m doing. It is my responsibility to ensure our safety and we’re all at risk as long as this thing is alive.”

“I know that,” she replied softly. “But what if she is not a changeling?”

Nora shot her an annoyed glance. “This is war, Dee. Sacrifices have to be made. You think I like this? You think I like that so many have suffered and –“, she paused for just a moment, “died.”

“Laas?”

She didn’t speak for a moment as she kept her glance firmly planted on Shelby Monroe who seemed to brace herself for what she knew was coming. Deen wasn’t sure what Nora was thinking. Was she perhaps developing second thoughts about this? Could her consciences suddenly have forced her to reconsider her –

“We’re ready,” said Doctor Santesh-Yado and presented a new hypo.

Nora looked back at Deen. “Stand back and let me do my job,” she said and then approached Monroe again. “Get started.”

Santesh-Yardo nodded and began to carefully close in on the test subject. “I just want to reiterate that this is all purely theoretical,” he said to nobody in particular. “We cannot be completely certain what we’ll be seeing.”

“I’ll be ready for anything,” Nora said and indicated to Ensign McAllister and another armed officer to keep their weapons on Monroe.

The conceivably fake Starfleet commander firmly bit down on her teeth when the hypo-spray made contact with her neck and its content was injected.

Santesh-Yardo moved back swiftly as if he had just unleashed a wild and deadly animal.

All eyes in the room now rested on what may or may not have been Lieutenant Commander Shelby Mornoe. Everybody expected the answer to that question to be delivered within the next few moments.

The test subject, still chained to the metallic chair, began to squirm slightly causing Nora to grip her rifle tighter.

Her skin began to glister. The Bajoran couldn’t be sure if it was because of perspiration or because her body was getting ready to morph into a new form. Then suddenly Monroe clamped down on the arm rests with all her strength, her knuckles beginning to be drained of color.

“Damn you! Damn you all!” she screamed as her pupils grew wide. She was trying to free herself form the chair but the restraints would not give way.

“Don’t fight it,” Nora said. “You only prolong the inevitable.”

Monroe whipped her head towards the security officer. “I’m going to rip out your throat!” she yelled and then screamed in pain.

DeMara Deen winced at the sight and turned to look at Xylion to find some sympathy. But the Vulcan – as suspected – showed nothing but scientific curiosity. The same was true for Santesh Yardo, even though the lead researcher made sure he kept a save distance to his test subject.

Some others began to turn away from the scene as Monroe’s face twisted into a grimace of pain and agony. Nora Laas watched on with fascination, perhaps even enjoyment.

Monroe caught a glance of Nora’s vicious smile. “You are no better than the Cardassian,” she managed to say in between painfully labored breaths. “You take pleasure from torture just like they did when they raped your planet bare!”

The smile dropped off Nora’s face and she stepped closer, ignoring the dangerous implications of being so near to a possible changeling. “Doctor!” she shouted with anger. “Increase that dosage now!”

Santesh-Yardo was already picking up another hypo when Deen stepped in front of Monroe to stop them from proceeding. “This is madness, you have to stop it.”

“Get out of the way, Dee!”

But the Tenarian didn’t budge. She looked at Xylion. “Commander, how much longer are we going to keep this up?”

“Doctor, should we not be able to see results by now?” the Vulcan asked.

But the researched shrugged his shoulders. “I warned you that this formula is still experimental. The changeling might be able to adapt to it better than we anticipated. Especially on a lower dosage.”

Nora had enough. She pushed Deen harshly out of the way. “It’s obviously trying to hold out. Give her another shot.”

Deen had not expected such force from the Bajoran and was nearly thrown to the floor. She quickly recovered.

A high-pitched scream of pain echoed through the large chamber. Monroe’s body was now completely covered in a film of what appeared to be sweat, her hair was entirely damp.

“Please, she’s dying,” Deen nearly whispered, now looking upon Monroe with utter sadness.

Xylion stepped closer, methodically scanning Monroe’s body for any sign that she was not human.

The annoyed Bajoran swiftly stepped up to Santesh-Yardo and snapped the hypo out of his hands. “Give me that,” she said and approached the screaming woman again, aiming the injector at her neck.

“Don’t. Do. That,” she croaked, hardly managing to get the words past her lips. “Kill. You.”

“Why don’t you try?” Nora shot back, taunting her, wishing for her to make a move.

“Lieutenant,” Xylion began before she could apply the hypo-spray, “there appears to be no evidence to suggest that Lieutenant Commander Monroe is a changeling at this point. You must not endanger her life.”

“Are you blind?” she nearly yelled at him. “It’s about to crack.” She raised the hypo to Monroe’s throat fully intending to pump it into Monroe and reveal her for what she truly was.

She never got the chance.


-----------------------------------
Stay tuned for Chapter XVII - Deliverance

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

Is Monroe the changeling?

Did Leva and D'Karr burst through in the nick of time?

Did Deen or someone else stop Nora?

Damn, what a cliffhanger!

Nora Laas and Shelby Monroe are as much a casualties of war now as Edison and the others who have died. No matter how this turns out, the Eagle and her crew are going to be scarred for life. Welcome to war.

 

[Captain2395]

Re: Chapter XVI - Underground

Wow! Awesome cliffhanger. The action is fast-paced and the mystery surrounding Munroe is enthralling. I'm expecting a curve ball and so really can't predict what happens next. Looking forward to the next installment.

I've also been catching up on the repost of your earlier story and so I'm getting a feel for your approach.

As I said earlier, I didn't think I would like a fic with much militarism in it but you are pulling it off successfully.