The Star Eagle Adventures: Star Crossed
- Thread starter CeJay
- Start date
Now it's about to hit the fan. Why do I have a feeling that Star has something up her sleeve? For her sake, I hope so...
“We’re about to enter the Eteron system,” T’Ser announced from her station. “I’m reading the Heracles. She appears adrift.”
Filled with an unmistakable feeling of foreboding, Joseph Akinola had jumped out of his seat before the Vulcan had stopped speaking. “Red Alert. Give me shields.”
Dale McBride moved to the tactical station, seconds later the red alert klaxons began wailing across the ship, preparing everyone onboard for the worst.
“Do we have a visual?” the captain asked.
The viewer switched on to show a sight of destruction.
“My God, what happened here?” asked Commander McBride once he spotted the devastated form of the once proud Galaxy-class cruiser. A huge chunk of her saucer section had been ripped away, exposing the innards of the starship to the unyielding vacuum of space. A number of flickering emergency force-fields gave prove that the ship was not yet entirely lost. But the damage was extensive. The hull had practically peeled off from the lower part of the drive section and she was bleeding plasma badly. The Heracles was surrounded by a field of debris so numerous and with some chunks so large it appeared she was stuck inside an asteroid field.
“Sensors,” said Akinola very quietly, unable to take his eyes off the screen.
“I’m reading no contacts in the immediate surroundings,” reported Nigel Bane who had arrived on the bridge a few minutes ago to lend a hand. “There are about twenty to thirty vessels around Eteron,” he said. “None in any kind of hurry to come over and help, the bloody bastards.”
“Of course not,” grunted Brin. “Let Starfleet bleed, that’s their motto. Wouldn’t surprise me if half of them were in on this play too.”
“Pretty hard to prove, unfortunately,” said McBride.
“Bridge to Baxter,” Akinola said. “As I feared we might have to deal with a large number of casualties. Are you ready to receive them?”
“We’ve been setting up triages in the cargo bay but depending on the number of injured it might make more sense to beam over to the Heracles,” the former Admiral and now chief medical officer of the Akinola responded. “How bad is she?”
“Bad,” the captain replied. “Stand by. Bridge out.”
“Mister Okonedo take us in, nice and slow,” said Akinola who was painfully aware that a lot of people on that doomed vessel needed their help but he was not going to double the casualty rate because he had thrown caution to the wind, like some other captain had done.
“Aye, sir, one quarter impulse power.”
“Lieutenant Bane, Mister T’Ser, keep those eyes on your sensors.”
Both officers acknowledged.
Akinola turned to his second-in-command. “Hail her, Commander, let’s find out who did this.”
The first officer nodded sharply and activate the necessary controls. He shook his head with frustration. “Still no replies. It looks like they took extensive damage to their communications array.”
The captain looked back at the screen. “So we can’t talk to them?”
Bluefin trembled slightly as she closed in on the near derelict vessel.
“We’re hitting some major debris,” reported Okonedo from the conn. “Nothing the shields can’t handle.”
The red-skinned Orion stepped away from his station to get a closer look at the screen. Something there had caught his attention.
Akinola noticed. “What is it, Chief?”
He turned to look at his long-time friend and commanding officer. “A lot of debris even for that kind of damage, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
That made the captain glance back at the screen which was now filled entirely with the lose fragments, some of which did not look like they had ever belonged to a Starfleet starship.
T’Ser swiveled her chair around. “Sir, we might be able to reach the other ship by boosting the combadge signals and circumventing the ship-to-ship system.”
“Get on that.”
The Vulcan operations officer went back to her board. “Give me a second to re-modulate the signal of your combadge,” she said as she worked her station. “There,” she added after a couple of seconds. “Try it now, sir.”
Akinola slapped his badge without delay. “Akinola to Schwarzkopf.”
Silence.
“This is Captain Akinola to Heracles. Can anybody over there hear me.”
And again he was rewarded by silence. He shot a look at his operations chief.
She shrugged her shoulders in the most un-Vulcan fashion after double checking her board, letting him know that he had a clear signal. No reason for them not to hear him. At least not from their end.
“Sir, I’ve been running some scans on the debris,” Lieutenant Bane said. “A large amount of it does not originate from the Heracles.”
“So they were in a battle and managed to destroy the attackers,” concluded the first officer.
“If it was a battle the attacking vessels must have been right on top of her when they went judging from the proximity of the debris,” said Bane.
“Can you identify the vessel from the debris?” asked Akinola.
“That’ll take a while.”
The captain nodded, prompting him to get to work then he tapped his combadge again. “Heracles, this is Captain Akinola from the Bluefin, do you read? We are standing by to provide medical assistance, please respond.”
Akinola turned away in frustration about to give up when an audible crack came over the speakers. He whipped back towards the screen as if somebody might have seen him from the sheer distance. The crack was followed by what sounded like a gasp. And then a clear moan. Akinola thought he recognized the person who uttered it. “Schwarzkopf, can you read me?”
“Akinola … Akinola.”
Concerned glances were shot back and forth between Bluefin’s bridge crew upon hearing the weak voice of Captain Melvin Schwarzkopf. Each word sounded heavily labored.
“Yes, Captain, it’s me. We’re ready to beam over medical teams, where do you want them?”
“Akinola,” Schwarzkopf repeated, his voice as deflated as before.
“Captain, we are here to provide assistance. Who attacked you? Was it Orion raiders?”
An excruciatingly long pause followed before Melvin Schwarzkopf spoke again. This time he sounded as if he had began to sob. Perhaps he had never stopped. “They came out of nowhere. Too fast, they were too fast … I didn’t know. And now it’s too late. It’s too late …,” his voice trailed off.
Brin looked at his captain. “I’m no doctor but he sounds like he might be in shock. Probably got hit pretty bad in the head.”
Akinola nodded. “Captain, listen to me. Is there anyone else on the bridge I can talk to. Your first officer, perhaps?”
“No!” he screamed so loudly that everybody on Bluefin’s bridge cringed. Akinola himself wanted to cover his ears but decorum forced him not to. “They’re all dead. All dead. I killed them, Akinola, I killed them all!”
This shocked Akinola momentarily. He glanced at T’Ser who proceeded to affirmably shake her head. “Multiple life-signs all over the vessel. Many in weakened condition,” she whispered softly to him.
“Captain Schwarzkopf, stay where you are, I have medical teams beaming over now, Akinola out.”
But before he could give another order T’Ser interrupted him in an alarming tone of voice. “Captain, multiple contacts, bearing 253 mark 74, approaching at high velocity, less than 500,000 kilometers.”
“Identify.”
McBride replied from tactical. “I have three … make that four small to medium sized vessels. They are …,” he stopped himself and then looked at Akinola. “They are all civilian, sir. Lightly armed and shielded. Cargo freighters.”
“Where did they come from?” the captain asked. “And how the hell did they get so close without us noticing?”
“They appeared close to the third planet of the system, a gas giant. We did not pick them up before due to the strong background radiation it is emitting,” said T’Ser.
Solly Brin grimaced. “That sounds all a bit too convenient.”
“Agreed,” said Akinola and sat in his chair. “Plot an intercept course, stand by weapons and open a channel.”
“Course plotted and engaging,” acknowledged Okonedo.
“Weapons standing by, channel open,” added the first officer.
“This is the boarder cutter Bluefin to approaching vessels, power down your engines and identify yourself. I say again power down your engines now.”
There was once again no response. Akinola was getting sick of it. Why didn’t anybody ever want to talk anymore?
“Sir,” Bane started. “I have finished analyzing the debris fragments and a large amount of them appeared to be from non-Starfleet ships, most likely civilian freighters of medium size. I also found evidence of –“
“The vessels are increasing speed, sir,” T’Ser interrupted. “At this rate they’ll be right on top of us within one minute and thirty-three seconds.”
“This feels all kinds of wrong,” Brin mumbled and went back to his station.
Akinola on the other hand sounded as calm and confident as a man who had faced the man with the scythe on more occasions than he cared to remember. “Mister Bane, now would be a good time for the rest of that story.”
“Quaratum,” said Bane urgently and in a much less calmer tone. “Those vessels were packed tight with quaratum, a thruster fuel component that can become extremely unstable.”
“They’re trying to firebomb us,” Dale McBride concluded.
“Mister McBride, load the 22’s, and fire at will. Don’t bother waiting for a target lock, we need to take them out now,” the captain said, his voice still barely raising above a casual conversation level.
The first officer fingers found the right controls immediately and his commands were nearly instantly delegated to the fire control system. But torpedoes could only be loaded that quickly. They had to be removed from storage, placed into the tubes and armed. A process that the Bluefin’s crew and the computer core had trimmed down to an impressive twenty seconds per load. It was not going to be fast enough to take down all four vessels in time.
Akinola had made the math in his head and was fully cognizant of the few seconds they missed.
“Torpedoes away,” said McBride and two bright dots of light shot out and across the view screen.
The captain’s right hand tapped commands into his computer armrest. “Phasers, maximum yield. Target this vessel and fire.”
“Firing.”
Two bright explosions lit up the main view screen which dimmed just in time to avoid blinding the bridge crew. The electromagnetic pulses unleashed short-circuited the relatively simple propulsion system of two of the incoming ships, causing an emergency shut-down which stopped both almost on the dot.
Lances of hot red phased energy found the third target, piercing the shields and heating the hull just enough for the quaratum to become unstable and rip the ship apart from the inside.
That left one.
“Mister Okonedo, put her in reverse, all she’s got.”
The young African man did what he was told and forward momentum stopped moments later, sending Bluefin on a mad rush away from the incoming starship mega-bomb.
Brin slowly shook his head with grim foreboding. “It’s not going to be enough.”
Akinola couldn’t help but agree. There was no time for another round of torpedoes, Mark 22’s or otherwise. Phasers were still recycling from the maximum yield output and once they were ready to fire again the makeshift missile on their doorstep would explode so close that it was guaranteed to blow them all the way to kingdom come.
And Akinola still kept his cool demeanor. “Mister Gralt, I need you to channel every last iota of energy into the main tractor beams. Don’t worry about blowing them out, we’re only going to use them once.”
“Easy for you to say you ain’t gonna be the one to fix’em afterwards … sir,” he replied in a deadpan.
“You won’t have to worry about that if this isn’t going to work. Now time is somewhat of the essence so please if –“
“Already done.”
Akinola smiled. “Lieutenant T’Ser, set the tractor beams to repel, get a good aim and activate. All hands, brace for impact!”
Everyone on the bridge clamped down on the console or station closest to them. No matter the results of this last desperate maneuver, Bluefin was going to take a beating. The only question was, would she still be around afterwards.
Filled with an unmistakable feeling of foreboding, Joseph Akinola had jumped out of his seat before the Vulcan had stopped speaking. “Red Alert. Give me shields.”
Dale McBride moved to the tactical station, seconds later the red alert klaxons began wailing across the ship, preparing everyone onboard for the worst.
“Do we have a visual?” the captain asked.
The viewer switched on to show a sight of destruction.
“My God, what happened here?” asked Commander McBride once he spotted the devastated form of the once proud Galaxy-class cruiser. A huge chunk of her saucer section had been ripped away, exposing the innards of the starship to the unyielding vacuum of space. A number of flickering emergency force-fields gave prove that the ship was not yet entirely lost. But the damage was extensive. The hull had practically peeled off from the lower part of the drive section and she was bleeding plasma badly. The Heracles was surrounded by a field of debris so numerous and with some chunks so large it appeared she was stuck inside an asteroid field.
“Sensors,” said Akinola very quietly, unable to take his eyes off the screen.
“I’m reading no contacts in the immediate surroundings,” reported Nigel Bane who had arrived on the bridge a few minutes ago to lend a hand. “There are about twenty to thirty vessels around Eteron,” he said. “None in any kind of hurry to come over and help, the bloody bastards.”
“Of course not,” grunted Brin. “Let Starfleet bleed, that’s their motto. Wouldn’t surprise me if half of them were in on this play too.”
“Pretty hard to prove, unfortunately,” said McBride.
“Bridge to Baxter,” Akinola said. “As I feared we might have to deal with a large number of casualties. Are you ready to receive them?”
“We’ve been setting up triages in the cargo bay but depending on the number of injured it might make more sense to beam over to the Heracles,” the former Admiral and now chief medical officer of the Akinola responded. “How bad is she?”
“Bad,” the captain replied. “Stand by. Bridge out.”
“Mister Okonedo take us in, nice and slow,” said Akinola who was painfully aware that a lot of people on that doomed vessel needed their help but he was not going to double the casualty rate because he had thrown caution to the wind, like some other captain had done.
“Aye, sir, one quarter impulse power.”
“Lieutenant Bane, Mister T’Ser, keep those eyes on your sensors.”
Both officers acknowledged.
Akinola turned to his second-in-command. “Hail her, Commander, let’s find out who did this.”
The first officer nodded sharply and activate the necessary controls. He shook his head with frustration. “Still no replies. It looks like they took extensive damage to their communications array.”
The captain looked back at the screen. “So we can’t talk to them?”
Bluefin trembled slightly as she closed in on the near derelict vessel.
“We’re hitting some major debris,” reported Okonedo from the conn. “Nothing the shields can’t handle.”
The red-skinned Orion stepped away from his station to get a closer look at the screen. Something there had caught his attention.
Akinola noticed. “What is it, Chief?”
He turned to look at his long-time friend and commanding officer. “A lot of debris even for that kind of damage, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
That made the captain glance back at the screen which was now filled entirely with the lose fragments, some of which did not look like they had ever belonged to a Starfleet starship.
T’Ser swiveled her chair around. “Sir, we might be able to reach the other ship by boosting the combadge signals and circumventing the ship-to-ship system.”
“Get on that.”
The Vulcan operations officer went back to her board. “Give me a second to re-modulate the signal of your combadge,” she said as she worked her station. “There,” she added after a couple of seconds. “Try it now, sir.”
Akinola slapped his badge without delay. “Akinola to Schwarzkopf.”
Silence.
“This is Captain Akinola to Heracles. Can anybody over there hear me.”
And again he was rewarded by silence. He shot a look at his operations chief.
She shrugged her shoulders in the most un-Vulcan fashion after double checking her board, letting him know that he had a clear signal. No reason for them not to hear him. At least not from their end.
“Sir, I’ve been running some scans on the debris,” Lieutenant Bane said. “A large amount of it does not originate from the Heracles.”
“So they were in a battle and managed to destroy the attackers,” concluded the first officer.
“If it was a battle the attacking vessels must have been right on top of her when they went judging from the proximity of the debris,” said Bane.
“Can you identify the vessel from the debris?” asked Akinola.
“That’ll take a while.”
The captain nodded, prompting him to get to work then he tapped his combadge again. “Heracles, this is Captain Akinola from the Bluefin, do you read? We are standing by to provide medical assistance, please respond.”
Akinola turned away in frustration about to give up when an audible crack came over the speakers. He whipped back towards the screen as if somebody might have seen him from the sheer distance. The crack was followed by what sounded like a gasp. And then a clear moan. Akinola thought he recognized the person who uttered it. “Schwarzkopf, can you read me?”
“Akinola … Akinola.”
Concerned glances were shot back and forth between Bluefin’s bridge crew upon hearing the weak voice of Captain Melvin Schwarzkopf. Each word sounded heavily labored.
“Yes, Captain, it’s me. We’re ready to beam over medical teams, where do you want them?”
“Akinola,” Schwarzkopf repeated, his voice as deflated as before.
“Captain, we are here to provide assistance. Who attacked you? Was it Orion raiders?”
An excruciatingly long pause followed before Melvin Schwarzkopf spoke again. This time he sounded as if he had began to sob. Perhaps he had never stopped. “They came out of nowhere. Too fast, they were too fast … I didn’t know. And now it’s too late. It’s too late …,” his voice trailed off.
Brin looked at his captain. “I’m no doctor but he sounds like he might be in shock. Probably got hit pretty bad in the head.”
Akinola nodded. “Captain, listen to me. Is there anyone else on the bridge I can talk to. Your first officer, perhaps?”
“No!” he screamed so loudly that everybody on Bluefin’s bridge cringed. Akinola himself wanted to cover his ears but decorum forced him not to. “They’re all dead. All dead. I killed them, Akinola, I killed them all!”
This shocked Akinola momentarily. He glanced at T’Ser who proceeded to affirmably shake her head. “Multiple life-signs all over the vessel. Many in weakened condition,” she whispered softly to him.
“Captain Schwarzkopf, stay where you are, I have medical teams beaming over now, Akinola out.”
But before he could give another order T’Ser interrupted him in an alarming tone of voice. “Captain, multiple contacts, bearing 253 mark 74, approaching at high velocity, less than 500,000 kilometers.”
“Identify.”
McBride replied from tactical. “I have three … make that four small to medium sized vessels. They are …,” he stopped himself and then looked at Akinola. “They are all civilian, sir. Lightly armed and shielded. Cargo freighters.”
“Where did they come from?” the captain asked. “And how the hell did they get so close without us noticing?”
“They appeared close to the third planet of the system, a gas giant. We did not pick them up before due to the strong background radiation it is emitting,” said T’Ser.
Solly Brin grimaced. “That sounds all a bit too convenient.”
“Agreed,” said Akinola and sat in his chair. “Plot an intercept course, stand by weapons and open a channel.”
“Course plotted and engaging,” acknowledged Okonedo.
“Weapons standing by, channel open,” added the first officer.
“This is the boarder cutter Bluefin to approaching vessels, power down your engines and identify yourself. I say again power down your engines now.”
There was once again no response. Akinola was getting sick of it. Why didn’t anybody ever want to talk anymore?
“Sir,” Bane started. “I have finished analyzing the debris fragments and a large amount of them appeared to be from non-Starfleet ships, most likely civilian freighters of medium size. I also found evidence of –“
“The vessels are increasing speed, sir,” T’Ser interrupted. “At this rate they’ll be right on top of us within one minute and thirty-three seconds.”
“This feels all kinds of wrong,” Brin mumbled and went back to his station.
Akinola on the other hand sounded as calm and confident as a man who had faced the man with the scythe on more occasions than he cared to remember. “Mister Bane, now would be a good time for the rest of that story.”
“Quaratum,” said Bane urgently and in a much less calmer tone. “Those vessels were packed tight with quaratum, a thruster fuel component that can become extremely unstable.”
“They’re trying to firebomb us,” Dale McBride concluded.
“Mister McBride, load the 22’s, and fire at will. Don’t bother waiting for a target lock, we need to take them out now,” the captain said, his voice still barely raising above a casual conversation level.
The first officer fingers found the right controls immediately and his commands were nearly instantly delegated to the fire control system. But torpedoes could only be loaded that quickly. They had to be removed from storage, placed into the tubes and armed. A process that the Bluefin’s crew and the computer core had trimmed down to an impressive twenty seconds per load. It was not going to be fast enough to take down all four vessels in time.
Akinola had made the math in his head and was fully cognizant of the few seconds they missed.
“Torpedoes away,” said McBride and two bright dots of light shot out and across the view screen.
The captain’s right hand tapped commands into his computer armrest. “Phasers, maximum yield. Target this vessel and fire.”
“Firing.”
Two bright explosions lit up the main view screen which dimmed just in time to avoid blinding the bridge crew. The electromagnetic pulses unleashed short-circuited the relatively simple propulsion system of two of the incoming ships, causing an emergency shut-down which stopped both almost on the dot.
Lances of hot red phased energy found the third target, piercing the shields and heating the hull just enough for the quaratum to become unstable and rip the ship apart from the inside.
That left one.
“Mister Okonedo, put her in reverse, all she’s got.”
The young African man did what he was told and forward momentum stopped moments later, sending Bluefin on a mad rush away from the incoming starship mega-bomb.
Brin slowly shook his head with grim foreboding. “It’s not going to be enough.”
Akinola couldn’t help but agree. There was no time for another round of torpedoes, Mark 22’s or otherwise. Phasers were still recycling from the maximum yield output and once they were ready to fire again the makeshift missile on their doorstep would explode so close that it was guaranteed to blow them all the way to kingdom come.
And Akinola still kept his cool demeanor. “Mister Gralt, I need you to channel every last iota of energy into the main tractor beams. Don’t worry about blowing them out, we’re only going to use them once.”
“Easy for you to say you ain’t gonna be the one to fix’em afterwards … sir,” he replied in a deadpan.
“You won’t have to worry about that if this isn’t going to work. Now time is somewhat of the essence so please if –“
“Already done.”
Akinola smiled. “Lieutenant T’Ser, set the tractor beams to repel, get a good aim and activate. All hands, brace for impact!”
Everyone on the bridge clamped down on the console or station closest to them. No matter the results of this last desperate maneuver, Bluefin was going to take a beating. The only question was, would she still be around afterwards.
* * *
Wow! Incoming Kamikaze pilots with ships loaded with high-explosives. 
I think Bluefin will need a new paint job after this (again!). Great, tense segment! 
I think Bluefin will need a new paint job after this (again!). Great, tense segment!
Shuun’s two lackeys, the ugly Dopterian and the short Bolian had picked up their weapons again and looked around somewhat nervously. Star smirked when she noticed that their rifles were unsteady, unsure in which direction to point them at. It was a testimony to their poor training after all the odds were clearly in their favor.
The Ariolo stood like a salt statue, frozen in place his weapon perfectly aimed at the tiny spot in-between Shunn’s eyes while his glance carefully surveyed the room, wordlessly declaring that whoever dared to take the opening shot, their boss was going to be among those to hit the ground first.
Star counted twelve weapons against their mere two. Curiously the only person in the room who appeared to be unarmed was Shuun himself who limited himself to piercing her with his insisting eyes. The Trill didn’t kid herself, the situation was decisively not in her favor. But all was not yet lost. All she needed were a few more seconds.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” she said and began to step slowly sideward. The sudden movement had the desired effect as the henchmen were thrown off momentarily. Star kept her aim steady. “You can come back and things might be different this time.”
Shuun uttered a hollow laugh. “They’ll be different alright. But not the kind that will do me any favors, trust me. We both know they can be only one outcome here. Let’s not stall for any more time and finish this quickly, shall we?”
Star nodded. “Yes, let’s finish it.”
There was a confidence in her eyes that did not go unnoticed by Shuun and a sudden panic crossed his face. “Kill them!”
And then the world turned black. Shuun had barely managed to say the word when all light in the room vanished from one instant to the another. If it had been a more modern and better maintained building perhaps some form of emergency lighting would have restored some illumination but not here. Without any windows it became entirely and completely pitch dark.
Not so for Star and N’ek’too. Their invisible eye lenses turned the body heat of their enemies into bright flares, leaving them with an advantage that would decide over life and death within the next few seconds.
Star had dropped to the floor the moment darkness had claimed the room. She performed a quick roll and fired two short burst which were instantly followed with two bodies slumping to the ground.
That was the point when everybody started to fire no matter if they could see or not.
Star dove forward and under the table to finish off the Dopterian by kicking out his feet under him and then shooting him at point blank range when he had landed next to her.
The sound of firing weapons almost drowned out that of the cries and falling bodies. No doubt her plan had worked, some of the henchmen had shot each other in the confusion and the Ariolo was helping out plenty too.
There was just one problem. She had made the mistake of letting her primary target out of sight. She felt a movement behind her and whipped around only to see a blur of crimson body heat rush past her. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was him. Shuun was heading towards the Ariolo who was dispatching the unfortunate rouges with his massive fists now. Their comparably fragile heads never stood a chance.
But Shuun was approaching him from behind.
Star stood up to intervene and instantly took a stray phaser blast to her left shoulder. She tried to suppress it but a muffled cry still escaped her lips.
The blur that was Shuun stopped suddenly and looked in her direction, hesitating for the briefest moment almost as if her cry had changed something. It hadn’t and he proceeded swiftly to his target.
Star wanted to shout out a warning but by the time she had found her breath again it was too late. Shuun had moved behind the Ariolo and a sickening wet sound followed. The room fell quiet just long enough to hear the gushing of blood. The darkness hid the full cruelness of it but Star could tell that the Ariolo’s form suddenly appeared at least a head shorter before he fell to his knees.
That caused a fury inside her, so intense it surprised herself. N’ek’too was dead and it was her fault. And he hadn’t died in the line of duty, serving Starfleet as he was supposed to but because she had tricked him into following her on a mission she had no business doing in the first place. It was the senselessness of it all that galled her at that moment. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she carrying out the orders of a man she despised to bring down somebody she had once loved? Nothing made sense anymore.
The adrenaline took care of that burning pain in her shoulder and gave her the strength to jump onto a chair, leap on the desk and run screaming towards Shuun’s form. She fired three blasts towards figures which still appeared to be on their feet. After that she ignored everything else but the fury burning inside of her.
Shuun had plenty of warning but for whatever reason he was still unprepared when the Trill took to the air and landed on top of him, causing them both to crash painfully onto the hard floor.
They rolled in the Ariolo’s blood before she managed to come out on top, delivering stinging punches to his face.
Power was restored just then.
Star didn’t took any notice of the blood stained floor and the slaughter all around them. Everybody was dead or dying except for her and Shuun below her.
He looked up at her through swelling eyes. “I didn’t want it to come to this,” he said quietly.
“I’m taking you back,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he replied, spitting out some blood. “There is no going back for me. You might as well kill me now because whatever Altee has in mind for me is going to be far worse.”
There was no doubt to Star at that moment that he believed his words. And she was hard pressed not to believe them also. As far as Altee was concerned Shuun was a traitor and a liability to him and his organization. Keeping him alive could only damage him. But her order had been to bring him back not kill him and she now finally understood why. Altee had plans for him and when he was through the person that had been Shapiree Shuun would no longer exist.
“I’m sorry Taz but this is as far as this goes,” he said. His hand had found a phaser and he was bringing it up to shoot her.
Star’s distracting thoughts had caused her to let her guard down for a crucial moment but she made up for it with a swift reach towards his neck. A spring blade shot out from underneath her wrist and pushed into his throat so hard it immediately drew blood.
Shuun was still trying to angle the phaser to point at her midsection, a difficult affair with her weight pressed against his. “It’s going to be one of us,” he said. “Kill or be killed, the most basic nature of sentient life.”
The blade dug deeper. “Drop the phaser.”
He shook his head ever so slightly. “You know I was sorry to see that you came for me but not because I didn’t want to kill you,” he said slowly,” but because I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
The phaser was now pointed at her but Shuun did not fire. “You can’t do it, can you? Something within you is still –“
Star’s armband began to vibrate. She cut him off. “You talk to damn much,” she said and brought her head down hard against his, causing her to nearly lose consciousness from the pain. It had the desired effect and he let go of the phaser.
She reached for a hidden combadge and tapped it. Moments later their bodies dissolved together.
When she rematerialized she was still on top of Shuun who seemed to be coming around slowly. The pain from her shot shoulder began to spread and she let herself fall down next to him, allowing herself to close her eyes for just a moment.
She had accomplished her goal, she had Shuun. That was all she wanted to think about. Not about disobeying orders, attacking fellow Starfleet officers, getting her security officer killed and almost taking out her former lover. No, she had to focus on the positive because she had made too many sacrifices not to believe that something, anything positive could come out of this.
Star took a breath and slowly got back on her knees and then on her feet. She took a step towards the transporter console to get some of the security officers to take care of Shuun. She only ever managed that one step.
Something held her back and refused to let go. She looked down to see that Shuun had reached out for her ankle and was holding it tightly. He barely seemed conscious.
“It’s over, Peer.”
His head moved very slowly to catch her gaze. “No,” he said barely audible. “It isn’t.” Then, with surprising alacrity, he reached into his mouth and pulled on one of his teeth.
Star had worked alongside Shuun long enough to realize what he had done. Foolishly she had not thought of it earlier and now it was too late. He held the white tooth between his thumb and index finger while keeping his eyes on her.
“Now everybody dies,” he said and squeezed the tooth as if it was made from a moldable material. It was.
Star was painfully aware that there was no force in the universe that could stop what was to come next. Desperately she tried to free herself from his grasp. She managed on the second attempt but she had put so much force into it that she landed hard on the floor.
“You should have killed me, you should have killed me when you had the chance,” he said with a rising tone in his voice.
Star scrambled for the doors even while she could feel all the oxygen in the room rushing past her and towards the calm figure of Sharpeer Shuun. All the energy around her was being channeled to one place, concentrating and building up with such speed and force that the inevitable implosion would tear everything and everyone around it apart.
It was as if the very air had turned against her, stopping Star from getting away from her doom. But she fought, she fought with everything she had just to make it out of those doors inches away. She dove forward and for a moment felt weightless as she leaped through the air.
The doors opened and she glided through, landing on the corridor outside with such force she heard her bones crack. It didn’t stop her from getting back on her feet. She might as well not have bothered because the very next moment the transporter room doors collapsed outwards and the shockwave that had flattened them gripped Star as well and lifted her clean off the floor once more.
Within less of a second the world around her had turned into a fiery inferno. Explosions of super hot plasma approached from all directions. Debris rained down on her and lose electric wiring struck Star like a thousand burning whips.
She kept moving forward.
The ground under her feet fell away, revealing the deadly void of space just a mere inches form her. Explosive decompression pulled her off her feet and smashed her into a dissolving bulkhead only to bounce off it and be blown into open space.
For all intents and purposes Star knew that at this point she was dead. The temperature had dropped so rapidly, frost was beginning to form on her exposed skin and the tightness in her lungs felt like she would burst open momentarily. No Trill could survive in the vacuum of space.
It was however not her time to die.
Her eyes closed, accepting her fate and perhaps even welcoming it, she slammed against something hard. When she opened her eyes again she saw that she was back inside a corridor. The freighter had broken apart in pieces and the decompression had pushed her from one part into another. It was still open to the space but – as if it had waited just for her – an emergency bulkhead was sealing off the compartment.
She was not yet saved.
For Star the bulkhead was not moving fast enough except for the fact that she had landed rather unfortunately with her body spread out across the threshold. And she couldn’t move. Her joints were frozen stiff and one of her legs had been entangled into loose wiring which kept her from being pulled back into space.
The bulkhead didn’t care for who or what was going to be in its path. It would shut with enough force to shutter skin and bones if necessary.
With a last force of will, Star pulled her body away in inches. It was not enough. In the end Star was left only with the choice between watching the impending disaster taking place right in front of her eyes or to turn away from it. The outcome was going to be the same.
She decided to look on as the massive bulkhead smashed her entire lower right arm.
The pain was more than she could bare.
The last thing she saw through the transparent aluminum partition were the few remaining parts of the freighter burning up in Eteron’s atmosphere. Her last conscious thought told her that she was soon to follow that fate or if she was less lucky she was going to bleed to death. In the end it didn’t really matter, she was not going to be awake for either death.
The Ariolo stood like a salt statue, frozen in place his weapon perfectly aimed at the tiny spot in-between Shunn’s eyes while his glance carefully surveyed the room, wordlessly declaring that whoever dared to take the opening shot, their boss was going to be among those to hit the ground first.
Star counted twelve weapons against their mere two. Curiously the only person in the room who appeared to be unarmed was Shuun himself who limited himself to piercing her with his insisting eyes. The Trill didn’t kid herself, the situation was decisively not in her favor. But all was not yet lost. All she needed were a few more seconds.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” she said and began to step slowly sideward. The sudden movement had the desired effect as the henchmen were thrown off momentarily. Star kept her aim steady. “You can come back and things might be different this time.”
Shuun uttered a hollow laugh. “They’ll be different alright. But not the kind that will do me any favors, trust me. We both know they can be only one outcome here. Let’s not stall for any more time and finish this quickly, shall we?”
Star nodded. “Yes, let’s finish it.”
There was a confidence in her eyes that did not go unnoticed by Shuun and a sudden panic crossed his face. “Kill them!”
And then the world turned black. Shuun had barely managed to say the word when all light in the room vanished from one instant to the another. If it had been a more modern and better maintained building perhaps some form of emergency lighting would have restored some illumination but not here. Without any windows it became entirely and completely pitch dark.
Not so for Star and N’ek’too. Their invisible eye lenses turned the body heat of their enemies into bright flares, leaving them with an advantage that would decide over life and death within the next few seconds.
Star had dropped to the floor the moment darkness had claimed the room. She performed a quick roll and fired two short burst which were instantly followed with two bodies slumping to the ground.
That was the point when everybody started to fire no matter if they could see or not.
Star dove forward and under the table to finish off the Dopterian by kicking out his feet under him and then shooting him at point blank range when he had landed next to her.
The sound of firing weapons almost drowned out that of the cries and falling bodies. No doubt her plan had worked, some of the henchmen had shot each other in the confusion and the Ariolo was helping out plenty too.
There was just one problem. She had made the mistake of letting her primary target out of sight. She felt a movement behind her and whipped around only to see a blur of crimson body heat rush past her. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was him. Shuun was heading towards the Ariolo who was dispatching the unfortunate rouges with his massive fists now. Their comparably fragile heads never stood a chance.
But Shuun was approaching him from behind.
Star stood up to intervene and instantly took a stray phaser blast to her left shoulder. She tried to suppress it but a muffled cry still escaped her lips.
The blur that was Shuun stopped suddenly and looked in her direction, hesitating for the briefest moment almost as if her cry had changed something. It hadn’t and he proceeded swiftly to his target.
Star wanted to shout out a warning but by the time she had found her breath again it was too late. Shuun had moved behind the Ariolo and a sickening wet sound followed. The room fell quiet just long enough to hear the gushing of blood. The darkness hid the full cruelness of it but Star could tell that the Ariolo’s form suddenly appeared at least a head shorter before he fell to his knees.
That caused a fury inside her, so intense it surprised herself. N’ek’too was dead and it was her fault. And he hadn’t died in the line of duty, serving Starfleet as he was supposed to but because she had tricked him into following her on a mission she had no business doing in the first place. It was the senselessness of it all that galled her at that moment. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she carrying out the orders of a man she despised to bring down somebody she had once loved? Nothing made sense anymore.
The adrenaline took care of that burning pain in her shoulder and gave her the strength to jump onto a chair, leap on the desk and run screaming towards Shuun’s form. She fired three blasts towards figures which still appeared to be on their feet. After that she ignored everything else but the fury burning inside of her.
Shuun had plenty of warning but for whatever reason he was still unprepared when the Trill took to the air and landed on top of him, causing them both to crash painfully onto the hard floor.
They rolled in the Ariolo’s blood before she managed to come out on top, delivering stinging punches to his face.
Power was restored just then.
Star didn’t took any notice of the blood stained floor and the slaughter all around them. Everybody was dead or dying except for her and Shuun below her.
He looked up at her through swelling eyes. “I didn’t want it to come to this,” he said quietly.
“I’m taking you back,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he replied, spitting out some blood. “There is no going back for me. You might as well kill me now because whatever Altee has in mind for me is going to be far worse.”
There was no doubt to Star at that moment that he believed his words. And she was hard pressed not to believe them also. As far as Altee was concerned Shuun was a traitor and a liability to him and his organization. Keeping him alive could only damage him. But her order had been to bring him back not kill him and she now finally understood why. Altee had plans for him and when he was through the person that had been Shapiree Shuun would no longer exist.
“I’m sorry Taz but this is as far as this goes,” he said. His hand had found a phaser and he was bringing it up to shoot her.
Star’s distracting thoughts had caused her to let her guard down for a crucial moment but she made up for it with a swift reach towards his neck. A spring blade shot out from underneath her wrist and pushed into his throat so hard it immediately drew blood.
Shuun was still trying to angle the phaser to point at her midsection, a difficult affair with her weight pressed against his. “It’s going to be one of us,” he said. “Kill or be killed, the most basic nature of sentient life.”
The blade dug deeper. “Drop the phaser.”
He shook his head ever so slightly. “You know I was sorry to see that you came for me but not because I didn’t want to kill you,” he said slowly,” but because I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
The phaser was now pointed at her but Shuun did not fire. “You can’t do it, can you? Something within you is still –“
Star’s armband began to vibrate. She cut him off. “You talk to damn much,” she said and brought her head down hard against his, causing her to nearly lose consciousness from the pain. It had the desired effect and he let go of the phaser.
She reached for a hidden combadge and tapped it. Moments later their bodies dissolved together.
When she rematerialized she was still on top of Shuun who seemed to be coming around slowly. The pain from her shot shoulder began to spread and she let herself fall down next to him, allowing herself to close her eyes for just a moment.
She had accomplished her goal, she had Shuun. That was all she wanted to think about. Not about disobeying orders, attacking fellow Starfleet officers, getting her security officer killed and almost taking out her former lover. No, she had to focus on the positive because she had made too many sacrifices not to believe that something, anything positive could come out of this.
Star took a breath and slowly got back on her knees and then on her feet. She took a step towards the transporter console to get some of the security officers to take care of Shuun. She only ever managed that one step.
Something held her back and refused to let go. She looked down to see that Shuun had reached out for her ankle and was holding it tightly. He barely seemed conscious.
“It’s over, Peer.”
His head moved very slowly to catch her gaze. “No,” he said barely audible. “It isn’t.” Then, with surprising alacrity, he reached into his mouth and pulled on one of his teeth.
Star had worked alongside Shuun long enough to realize what he had done. Foolishly she had not thought of it earlier and now it was too late. He held the white tooth between his thumb and index finger while keeping his eyes on her.
“Now everybody dies,” he said and squeezed the tooth as if it was made from a moldable material. It was.
Star was painfully aware that there was no force in the universe that could stop what was to come next. Desperately she tried to free herself from his grasp. She managed on the second attempt but she had put so much force into it that she landed hard on the floor.
“You should have killed me, you should have killed me when you had the chance,” he said with a rising tone in his voice.
Star scrambled for the doors even while she could feel all the oxygen in the room rushing past her and towards the calm figure of Sharpeer Shuun. All the energy around her was being channeled to one place, concentrating and building up with such speed and force that the inevitable implosion would tear everything and everyone around it apart.
It was as if the very air had turned against her, stopping Star from getting away from her doom. But she fought, she fought with everything she had just to make it out of those doors inches away. She dove forward and for a moment felt weightless as she leaped through the air.
The doors opened and she glided through, landing on the corridor outside with such force she heard her bones crack. It didn’t stop her from getting back on her feet. She might as well not have bothered because the very next moment the transporter room doors collapsed outwards and the shockwave that had flattened them gripped Star as well and lifted her clean off the floor once more.
Within less of a second the world around her had turned into a fiery inferno. Explosions of super hot plasma approached from all directions. Debris rained down on her and lose electric wiring struck Star like a thousand burning whips.
She kept moving forward.
The ground under her feet fell away, revealing the deadly void of space just a mere inches form her. Explosive decompression pulled her off her feet and smashed her into a dissolving bulkhead only to bounce off it and be blown into open space.
For all intents and purposes Star knew that at this point she was dead. The temperature had dropped so rapidly, frost was beginning to form on her exposed skin and the tightness in her lungs felt like she would burst open momentarily. No Trill could survive in the vacuum of space.
It was however not her time to die.
Her eyes closed, accepting her fate and perhaps even welcoming it, she slammed against something hard. When she opened her eyes again she saw that she was back inside a corridor. The freighter had broken apart in pieces and the decompression had pushed her from one part into another. It was still open to the space but – as if it had waited just for her – an emergency bulkhead was sealing off the compartment.
She was not yet saved.
For Star the bulkhead was not moving fast enough except for the fact that she had landed rather unfortunately with her body spread out across the threshold. And she couldn’t move. Her joints were frozen stiff and one of her legs had been entangled into loose wiring which kept her from being pulled back into space.
The bulkhead didn’t care for who or what was going to be in its path. It would shut with enough force to shutter skin and bones if necessary.
With a last force of will, Star pulled her body away in inches. It was not enough. In the end Star was left only with the choice between watching the impending disaster taking place right in front of her eyes or to turn away from it. The outcome was going to be the same.
She decided to look on as the massive bulkhead smashed her entire lower right arm.
The pain was more than she could bare.
The last thing she saw through the transparent aluminum partition were the few remaining parts of the freighter burning up in Eteron’s atmosphere. Her last conscious thought told her that she was soon to follow that fate or if she was less lucky she was going to bleed to death. In the end it didn’t really matter, she was not going to be awake for either death.
* * *
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Things are looking pretty dire: The Hercules and possibly the Bluefin felled by the 24th century equivalent of the fireship (nice), Star's security chief dead, and our anti-heroine looks like she's about to cash in her chips as well.
Looks like it's up to Akinola to save the day...
Looks like it's up to Akinola to save the day...
I think Akinola needs a raise . . . or a vacation.
Another well-written, very tense chapter! Star's outlook has gone from bleak to dismal. Hope she survives long enough to face court-martial!
Every last bit of power Bluefin possessed had been routed to the powerful tractor beams. Had she been any other ship, a regular fleet cruiser for example, the maneuver wouldn’t have stood a snowflake’s chance in hell. But the Albacore-class border cutter had been designed to strain its tractor beams to the absolute limit.
So when the massive force of cobalt colored energy gripped the fast approaching starship turned firebomb, it did it with such force, it instantly caused the smaller vessel to tumble over itself. And therein of course also lay the problem.
The high yield thruster fuel which had been used as explosives became unstable seconds after the impact and the vessel was ripped apart in a fiery explosion way too close to the desperately retreating border cutter.
Akinola watched the spectacle with morbid fascination, already aware that they were not moving fast enough to clear the incoming shockwave. “All hands, brace for impact.”
Acting quickly, Dale McBride transferred the little energy that remained in the ship’s electro-plasma grid towards the structural integrity field before holding on to the tactical station for dear life.
The rest of the crew all over the ship followed suit.
Then, the shockwave hit.
And once again it was a distinct characteristic of the sturdy border cutter – it’s heavily reinforced shields this time – that saved the crew from certain destruction.
On the bridge the light panels exploded first, covering it in darkness. Not a nanosecond later gravity was turned upside down and not one man or woman remained at their station as they were tossed into the air like rag dolls.
It was going to be the landings that would prove the most painful.
Some time later when Akinola opened his eyes again he experienced too many sensations at the same time. An intense light from a nearby fire blinding his vision and burning his skin. A sharp pain in his dislocated arm and a sickening taste of blood in his mouth.
He did not hear anything however which was strange because he could see McBride, bleeding from his nose and forehead standing above him, his mouth moving as if he was talking to him.
All the captain could hear was an insisting ringing that felt as if it would puncture his eardrums if that had not already happened.
The captain didn’t care. Neither did he pay attention to his clearly broken arm that had twisted unnaturally beside him. He spit out blood and slowly got on his knees. McBride continued to speak while carefully helping him to get off the floor. He could still not hear what he was saying but his expression was clear enough. He was greatly concerned.
The fires had gone as quickly as they had appeared, efficiently drowsed by the fire suppression system.
Akinola’s glance wandered across his demolished bridge. T’Ser lay against a bulkhead nursing a bleeding and possibly dislocated shoulder. Solly Brin was removing a fragment of debris which had been lodged into Nigel Bane’s leg. Akinola was thankful he couldn’t hear the junior lieutenant’s howls of pain.
The helm station was blasted to pieces, the console destroyed completely and the chair burned to a crisp. Ensign Lennox Okonedo was lying face down at the opposite side of the bridge. Akinola could feel his chest tighten as he watched the young man for a moment. He didn’t move at all.
Brushing off McBride who was desperately trying to tend to the captain’s injuries, Akinola slowly stumbled to Okonedo’s side. He knelt next to the man and a not so steady hand reached out for his neck to find a pulse. There wasn’t one.
Joseph Akinola didn’t hear the turbo-lift doors open and a swarm of medical technicians streaming onto his bridge. He didn’t even notice Doctor Baxter until he joined him at his side, scanning the motionless body of Okonedo.
Apparently not satisfied with the result the device produced, Calvin Baxter began to diagnose his patient by hand. After just a few seconds he gave up on that as well.
The captain looked at the doctor with an expression of pure anxiety, hoping against all hope for an assuring diagnosis, for any kind of sign that his nephew could have another chance at life. And that he could have another chance to speak to him, to make sure to let him know how proud he had been of the young man.
In a sick twist of fate his hearing returned just then.
“I’m sorry, Joseph,” said Baxter.
Akinola refused to believe. He refused to accept that he had allowed his nephew to be killed. It was a feeling unfamiliar to the veteran captain who had lost too many men under his command in his long and distinguished career in the Border Service. It was equal to and perhaps even worse to the very first casualty that had taken place under his watch so long ago it felt like half an eternity.
The corpsmen began to cover up the corpse while Akinola watched with eyes to dry to allow for tears.
“Let me have a look at you,” Baxter said softly.
But Akinola was not interested. “How many?”
“Joseph, please you are hurt.”
“How many?” he asked again, keeping his voice perfectly even.
The former admiral sighed. “Initial numbers suggest twenty-three injured and five dead. It looks like the bridge took the worst hit.”
“Akinola, Captain Akinola, come in.”
It was Schwarzkopf’s voice coming over the speakers. It had lost the maddening desperation it had contained before and regained its authoritarian edge. “Akinola, where are those medical teams? I’ve got numerous injured over here and I have lost contact to half the ship including sickbay. I need your people over here now.”
There was silence on the bridge of Bluefin save for the subtle croak of a clearly damaged environmental system. The crew of the border cutter – nobody without their own injuries to nurse –looked at each other with empty glances.
“Goddamnit Akinola, I need help over here. If you can hear me respond.”
Calvin Baxter was the first to pierce the silence. “Joseph, our medical teams are still standing by. We should be able to dispatch them without compromising our efforts here on the ship.”
Akinola took his time to stand up. Spitting more blood however remained his only response.
“We have to help them,” Baxter said with insistence lacing his voice.
His plea appeared to fall on deaf ears on the bridge of Bluefin which currently was closer in appearance to a junk yard than a starship command center.
Akinola walked over to where T’Ser was still sitting on the ground. He held out his good arm and with surprising strength helped the young Vulcan woman back onto her feet. She gave him an appreciative nod but didn’t say a word.
The captain looked around his bridge once more. All eyes were upon their leader, wondering exactly what his next orders would be. They would follow them without question no matter what they would be.
“Mister McBride,” Akinola began but his voice croaked and he had stop himself. “Mister McBride, get us into transporter range and send whoever we can spare.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain glanced one last time at the black body bag which now contained his dead nephew. Then he turned his back and left the bridge, ignoring Baxter’s persistent calls to allow him to treat his wounds.
So when the massive force of cobalt colored energy gripped the fast approaching starship turned firebomb, it did it with such force, it instantly caused the smaller vessel to tumble over itself. And therein of course also lay the problem.
The high yield thruster fuel which had been used as explosives became unstable seconds after the impact and the vessel was ripped apart in a fiery explosion way too close to the desperately retreating border cutter.
Akinola watched the spectacle with morbid fascination, already aware that they were not moving fast enough to clear the incoming shockwave. “All hands, brace for impact.”
Acting quickly, Dale McBride transferred the little energy that remained in the ship’s electro-plasma grid towards the structural integrity field before holding on to the tactical station for dear life.
The rest of the crew all over the ship followed suit.
Then, the shockwave hit.
And once again it was a distinct characteristic of the sturdy border cutter – it’s heavily reinforced shields this time – that saved the crew from certain destruction.
On the bridge the light panels exploded first, covering it in darkness. Not a nanosecond later gravity was turned upside down and not one man or woman remained at their station as they were tossed into the air like rag dolls.
It was going to be the landings that would prove the most painful.
Some time later when Akinola opened his eyes again he experienced too many sensations at the same time. An intense light from a nearby fire blinding his vision and burning his skin. A sharp pain in his dislocated arm and a sickening taste of blood in his mouth.
He did not hear anything however which was strange because he could see McBride, bleeding from his nose and forehead standing above him, his mouth moving as if he was talking to him.
All the captain could hear was an insisting ringing that felt as if it would puncture his eardrums if that had not already happened.
The captain didn’t care. Neither did he pay attention to his clearly broken arm that had twisted unnaturally beside him. He spit out blood and slowly got on his knees. McBride continued to speak while carefully helping him to get off the floor. He could still not hear what he was saying but his expression was clear enough. He was greatly concerned.
The fires had gone as quickly as they had appeared, efficiently drowsed by the fire suppression system.
Akinola’s glance wandered across his demolished bridge. T’Ser lay against a bulkhead nursing a bleeding and possibly dislocated shoulder. Solly Brin was removing a fragment of debris which had been lodged into Nigel Bane’s leg. Akinola was thankful he couldn’t hear the junior lieutenant’s howls of pain.
The helm station was blasted to pieces, the console destroyed completely and the chair burned to a crisp. Ensign Lennox Okonedo was lying face down at the opposite side of the bridge. Akinola could feel his chest tighten as he watched the young man for a moment. He didn’t move at all.
Brushing off McBride who was desperately trying to tend to the captain’s injuries, Akinola slowly stumbled to Okonedo’s side. He knelt next to the man and a not so steady hand reached out for his neck to find a pulse. There wasn’t one.
Joseph Akinola didn’t hear the turbo-lift doors open and a swarm of medical technicians streaming onto his bridge. He didn’t even notice Doctor Baxter until he joined him at his side, scanning the motionless body of Okonedo.
Apparently not satisfied with the result the device produced, Calvin Baxter began to diagnose his patient by hand. After just a few seconds he gave up on that as well.
The captain looked at the doctor with an expression of pure anxiety, hoping against all hope for an assuring diagnosis, for any kind of sign that his nephew could have another chance at life. And that he could have another chance to speak to him, to make sure to let him know how proud he had been of the young man.
In a sick twist of fate his hearing returned just then.
“I’m sorry, Joseph,” said Baxter.
Akinola refused to believe. He refused to accept that he had allowed his nephew to be killed. It was a feeling unfamiliar to the veteran captain who had lost too many men under his command in his long and distinguished career in the Border Service. It was equal to and perhaps even worse to the very first casualty that had taken place under his watch so long ago it felt like half an eternity.
The corpsmen began to cover up the corpse while Akinola watched with eyes to dry to allow for tears.
“Let me have a look at you,” Baxter said softly.
But Akinola was not interested. “How many?”
“Joseph, please you are hurt.”
“How many?” he asked again, keeping his voice perfectly even.
The former admiral sighed. “Initial numbers suggest twenty-three injured and five dead. It looks like the bridge took the worst hit.”
“Akinola, Captain Akinola, come in.”
It was Schwarzkopf’s voice coming over the speakers. It had lost the maddening desperation it had contained before and regained its authoritarian edge. “Akinola, where are those medical teams? I’ve got numerous injured over here and I have lost contact to half the ship including sickbay. I need your people over here now.”
There was silence on the bridge of Bluefin save for the subtle croak of a clearly damaged environmental system. The crew of the border cutter – nobody without their own injuries to nurse –looked at each other with empty glances.
“Goddamnit Akinola, I need help over here. If you can hear me respond.”
Calvin Baxter was the first to pierce the silence. “Joseph, our medical teams are still standing by. We should be able to dispatch them without compromising our efforts here on the ship.”
Akinola took his time to stand up. Spitting more blood however remained his only response.
“We have to help them,” Baxter said with insistence lacing his voice.
His plea appeared to fall on deaf ears on the bridge of Bluefin which currently was closer in appearance to a junk yard than a starship command center.
Akinola walked over to where T’Ser was still sitting on the ground. He held out his good arm and with surprising strength helped the young Vulcan woman back onto her feet. She gave him an appreciative nod but didn’t say a word.
The captain looked around his bridge once more. All eyes were upon their leader, wondering exactly what his next orders would be. They would follow them without question no matter what they would be.
“Mister McBride,” Akinola began but his voice croaked and he had stop himself. “Mister McBride, get us into transporter range and send whoever we can spare.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain glanced one last time at the black body bag which now contained his dead nephew. Then he turned his back and left the bridge, ignoring Baxter’s persistent calls to allow him to treat his wounds.
* * *
What a harsh, well-done scene. I saw it coming, but it was still rough.
How does Akinola tell his sister that her boy is dead?
As for Schwarzkopf, he had best pray that he never meets Akinola face-to-face. I don't think Akinola would care about his pips, his career, or anything else as he pummeled the SOB.
How does Akinola tell his sister that her boy is dead?
As for Schwarzkopf, he had best pray that he never meets Akinola face-to-face. I don't think Akinola would care about his pips, his career, or anything else as he pummeled the SOB.
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When it rains...
All that death and injury because of a corrupt captain and a foolhardy captain. This is going to have ramifications all the way up to the Federation Council...
All that death and injury because of a corrupt captain and a foolhardy captain. This is going to have ramifications all the way up to the Federation Council...
Her eyes fluttered open as a bright white light shone into them.
Tazla Star’s first thought was that she had been wrong all along. Perhaps an afterlife did exist. Her vision was foggy but when it cleared she recognized the smiling visage of a familiar face. Doctor Alan Newheiser. If this was an afterlife, she thought, she had gone to hell. She wouldn’t complain. She certainly deserved such a fate.
“Sleeping beauty awakes,” he said and his voice sounded to her as if it was a few light-years away. “Well I guess the beauty part is no longer appropriate. I wouldn’t worry too much about it now. We’ll fix you back up alright. You’ll be like new, maybe even better.”
She could hardly move her head but it was enough to realize that she was in sickbay. More precisely, Sacajawea’s sickbay.
Her throat felt dry and her body numb. So numb in fact she couldn’t feel any of her extremities, couldn’t even lift a finger. She was completely helpless and that feeling scared her more than anything else.
“With no doubt you’re wondering what has happened,” Newheiser continued, refusing to part with his irritating smile. “Things haven’t been very smooth since you decided to leave us, I’m afraid and judging from your presence here I’d say the outcome of your mission was equally complicated.”
Star didn’t appreciate the open implications and strained herself to make sure they were alone in sickbay. To her relief she found that they were.
“Schwarzkopf, in his boisterous manner, had to go running after you and lead his big splendid vessel right into the middle of a syndicate trap designed to turn any ship into space dust. I don’t know what you’ve done to Mahoney but it certainly deflated him enough to decide to sit out the rescue attempt headed by the Bluefin. Something to be said about those Border Dogs, they bailed Schwarzkopf out after taking some casualties themselves. The grapevine tells me the two captains are no longer on speaking terms. Not that they were fond of each other to begin with.”
Star tried to pay attention to what the doctor was saying but it was difficult for her to concentrate. Her mind and now suddenly her conscience were punishing her for what she had done, the people who had been killed, all in one way or another resulting from the decisions she had made.
“We joined the party late and just in time, it turns out to pick up the remaining debris of your freighter. Imagine Mahoney’s surprise when he found you inside, barely alive. You were very lucky. The extremely low temperature kept you from bleeding to death but a few minutes longer and you’d wouldn’t have made it,” he said and almost chuckled as if it was all one big joke. He bend over Star and moved closer. “Mahoney is on his way here now. I suggest you get your story straight before talk to him.”
Star’s green eyes looked like poison as she starred daggers into the man. She wanted to speak but somehow the words never left her mouth.
“Oh that’s right,” Newheiser said and made a gesture like he had remembered something important. “You can’t talk right now. A bit of an after effect of the treatment. It’ll come back to you eventually.”
The doors to sickbay swished open and Evan Mahoney strode in with exaggerated confidence. He had recovered from his involuntary drug overdose but appeared to be trying to make up for his earlier weakness now. Four heavily armed security specialists were following him.
Newheiser stood up straight and approached them quickly with an annoyed frown on his face. “Commander, what is the meaning of this? I object to you intruding into my sickbay with your goons.”
On any other occasion Star might have been amused by the doctor’s obvious dramatics. He would have made a decent actor.
“I’m here to place Captain Star under arrest for disobeying direct orders,” he said dryly, throwing the doctor nothing more than a passing glance.
“She is in no condition to be hauled away to the brig. Her injuries were severe and she will require ample time for recuperation.”
Mahoney ignored the doctor and stepped up next to Star.
With no words available to her she gave Mahoney the same treatment she had given Newheiser.
Mahoney was not impressed. He looked her over carefully. The right side of her face was badly burned and so was much of her hair. Her uniform was dirty and singed all over and her lower right arm was gone, replaced by a metallic cast.
He touched her gently on her good cheek. She flinched but couldn’t move away. “A shame about that pretty face of yours,” he said. “You know, we could have had something, you and me. But you were too stubborn to see that, weren’t you? And now what did it get you?” he said and drank in her piercing eyes for a moment. “You’ll be court-martialed of course for violating orders and a dozen other offenses and after spending the best remaining years of your life in a maximum security stockade you’ll be stripped of your rank and honor and you’ll be nothing to anyone ever again. In the meantime I will assume command of Sacajawea,” he said and smirked. “Funny thing about fate, don’t you think? In the end everybody gets what they deserve. But don’t worry I’m not going to hold a grudge for what you’ve done. Tell you what, look me up in thirty or forty years time when you get out. I’m sure I could always use a good yeoman.”
“Alright, Commander, that’s enough. I have to insist that you and your men leave my patient to rest now,” Newheiser said sternly and stepped next to him.
Mahoney nodded. “Certainly Doctor, she’ll need all her strength for what’s to come,” he said and threw her another look. “Good luck, Taz. After all it was a pleasure to have known you,” he said and walked away, instructing the security guards to take position outside sickbay.
Once they were alone again Newheiser turned to his patient. She looked furious, not because of what had happened to her but for the lack of a chance to spit into Mahoney’s face.
“You did alright.”
She threw him a puzzled look.
“Oh, sure it doesn’t look particularly good for you right now but at the end of the day you did what you had to. And you completed your mission. Our friend won’t forget this. It may not have gone the way we planned but some good came out of this. Schwarzkopf for one will be made to suffer for his arrogance and truth be told he’s always been a thorn in our side.”
Disgusted with what Newheiser was saying she turned her head away.
“Of course you won’t get away cleanly either. A court martial will be unavoidable and you probably get a year or two inside, a temporary demotion perhaps. But he’ll be there to take care of you, I promise you that. He does not ever forget his people. Especially not those who demonstrate their loyalty the way you have done. Rest assured that your future looks very promising.”
With that Newheiser turned and left.
Star hadn’t listened. She no longer cared about what would happen to her, she didn’t care if they stripped her of her rank, threw her into a dungeon for the rest of her life or if she never set foot on a starship ever again. She had betrayed herself and those who had come before her. She had betrayed those who had once trusted her and it had cost them their life. She had betrayed her uniform and her pledge and in the end she had nothing left.
As far as Tazla Star was concerned she no longer had a future only a past filled with shame and disgrace.
Tazla Star’s first thought was that she had been wrong all along. Perhaps an afterlife did exist. Her vision was foggy but when it cleared she recognized the smiling visage of a familiar face. Doctor Alan Newheiser. If this was an afterlife, she thought, she had gone to hell. She wouldn’t complain. She certainly deserved such a fate.
“Sleeping beauty awakes,” he said and his voice sounded to her as if it was a few light-years away. “Well I guess the beauty part is no longer appropriate. I wouldn’t worry too much about it now. We’ll fix you back up alright. You’ll be like new, maybe even better.”
She could hardly move her head but it was enough to realize that she was in sickbay. More precisely, Sacajawea’s sickbay.
Her throat felt dry and her body numb. So numb in fact she couldn’t feel any of her extremities, couldn’t even lift a finger. She was completely helpless and that feeling scared her more than anything else.
“With no doubt you’re wondering what has happened,” Newheiser continued, refusing to part with his irritating smile. “Things haven’t been very smooth since you decided to leave us, I’m afraid and judging from your presence here I’d say the outcome of your mission was equally complicated.”
Star didn’t appreciate the open implications and strained herself to make sure they were alone in sickbay. To her relief she found that they were.
“Schwarzkopf, in his boisterous manner, had to go running after you and lead his big splendid vessel right into the middle of a syndicate trap designed to turn any ship into space dust. I don’t know what you’ve done to Mahoney but it certainly deflated him enough to decide to sit out the rescue attempt headed by the Bluefin. Something to be said about those Border Dogs, they bailed Schwarzkopf out after taking some casualties themselves. The grapevine tells me the two captains are no longer on speaking terms. Not that they were fond of each other to begin with.”
Star tried to pay attention to what the doctor was saying but it was difficult for her to concentrate. Her mind and now suddenly her conscience were punishing her for what she had done, the people who had been killed, all in one way or another resulting from the decisions she had made.
“We joined the party late and just in time, it turns out to pick up the remaining debris of your freighter. Imagine Mahoney’s surprise when he found you inside, barely alive. You were very lucky. The extremely low temperature kept you from bleeding to death but a few minutes longer and you’d wouldn’t have made it,” he said and almost chuckled as if it was all one big joke. He bend over Star and moved closer. “Mahoney is on his way here now. I suggest you get your story straight before talk to him.”
Star’s green eyes looked like poison as she starred daggers into the man. She wanted to speak but somehow the words never left her mouth.
“Oh that’s right,” Newheiser said and made a gesture like he had remembered something important. “You can’t talk right now. A bit of an after effect of the treatment. It’ll come back to you eventually.”
The doors to sickbay swished open and Evan Mahoney strode in with exaggerated confidence. He had recovered from his involuntary drug overdose but appeared to be trying to make up for his earlier weakness now. Four heavily armed security specialists were following him.
Newheiser stood up straight and approached them quickly with an annoyed frown on his face. “Commander, what is the meaning of this? I object to you intruding into my sickbay with your goons.”
On any other occasion Star might have been amused by the doctor’s obvious dramatics. He would have made a decent actor.
“I’m here to place Captain Star under arrest for disobeying direct orders,” he said dryly, throwing the doctor nothing more than a passing glance.
“She is in no condition to be hauled away to the brig. Her injuries were severe and she will require ample time for recuperation.”
Mahoney ignored the doctor and stepped up next to Star.
With no words available to her she gave Mahoney the same treatment she had given Newheiser.
Mahoney was not impressed. He looked her over carefully. The right side of her face was badly burned and so was much of her hair. Her uniform was dirty and singed all over and her lower right arm was gone, replaced by a metallic cast.
He touched her gently on her good cheek. She flinched but couldn’t move away. “A shame about that pretty face of yours,” he said. “You know, we could have had something, you and me. But you were too stubborn to see that, weren’t you? And now what did it get you?” he said and drank in her piercing eyes for a moment. “You’ll be court-martialed of course for violating orders and a dozen other offenses and after spending the best remaining years of your life in a maximum security stockade you’ll be stripped of your rank and honor and you’ll be nothing to anyone ever again. In the meantime I will assume command of Sacajawea,” he said and smirked. “Funny thing about fate, don’t you think? In the end everybody gets what they deserve. But don’t worry I’m not going to hold a grudge for what you’ve done. Tell you what, look me up in thirty or forty years time when you get out. I’m sure I could always use a good yeoman.”
“Alright, Commander, that’s enough. I have to insist that you and your men leave my patient to rest now,” Newheiser said sternly and stepped next to him.
Mahoney nodded. “Certainly Doctor, she’ll need all her strength for what’s to come,” he said and threw her another look. “Good luck, Taz. After all it was a pleasure to have known you,” he said and walked away, instructing the security guards to take position outside sickbay.
Once they were alone again Newheiser turned to his patient. She looked furious, not because of what had happened to her but for the lack of a chance to spit into Mahoney’s face.
“You did alright.”
She threw him a puzzled look.
“Oh, sure it doesn’t look particularly good for you right now but at the end of the day you did what you had to. And you completed your mission. Our friend won’t forget this. It may not have gone the way we planned but some good came out of this. Schwarzkopf for one will be made to suffer for his arrogance and truth be told he’s always been a thorn in our side.”
Disgusted with what Newheiser was saying she turned her head away.
“Of course you won’t get away cleanly either. A court martial will be unavoidable and you probably get a year or two inside, a temporary demotion perhaps. But he’ll be there to take care of you, I promise you that. He does not ever forget his people. Especially not those who demonstrate their loyalty the way you have done. Rest assured that your future looks very promising.”
With that Newheiser turned and left.
Star hadn’t listened. She no longer cared about what would happen to her, she didn’t care if they stripped her of her rank, threw her into a dungeon for the rest of her life or if she never set foot on a starship ever again. She had betrayed herself and those who had come before her. She had betrayed those who had once trusted her and it had cost them their life. She had betrayed her uniform and her pledge and in the end she had nothing left.
As far as Tazla Star was concerned she no longer had a future only a past filled with shame and disgrace.
_ _ _ _
Star Crossed has been a prequel to:
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Well, she lived. That's more of a chance than I was giving her. That being said:you aren't very nice to your characters, CeJay. I (almost) feel sorry for Star. Great tale of betrayal and, well, a**holes and more betrayal. Y'know, if the Bluefin hadn't been in this story there would have been no redeemable characters whatsoever. A cool saga. I look forward to Sinners...Will we have guest spots from any other aspects of UT?
Excellent, CeJay! If the prequel is any indication, All the Sinners, Saints should be a truly ripping yarn! Star is certainly an intriguing anti-hero. Will she be able to redeem herself? Too early to tell, I suppose.
Thanks again for doing such a great job with the Bluefin crew. There were several times when I thought, "I wish I had written that!"
Can't wait for the new story!
Thanks again for doing such a great job with the Bluefin crew. There were several times when I thought, "I wish I had written that!"
Can't wait for the new story!
Excellent, CeJay!
Thanks again for doing such a great job with the Bluefin crew. There were several times when I thought, "I wish I had written that!"
Can't wait for the new story!
There were several times when I thought you had!
A very, very well done dark story with no real winners--just survivors. It'll be interesting seeing where you take Taz after this. Sacajawea is one corrupt ship--whoever takes over after Taz is going to have to go in their with a water cannon. As for Schwarzkopf, he will be lucky to command a mail courier after this mission. Akinola and the Bluefin are the only ones to come out of this with their honor and integrity intact.
I'm most definitely looking forward to "All the Sinners, Saints" where Joseph will meet a different sort of captain and a different sort of regular Fleet crew.
I'm most definitely looking forward to "All the Sinners, Saints" where Joseph will meet a different sort of captain and a different sort of regular Fleet crew.
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