Here is the second installment of what has become my ongoing series. I seem to have developed plans for these characters...
PART ONE-Someone’s Knocking At the Door
Captain Niklesh Sanjay sat in the waiting room scratching his nose. Minute flakes of skin twirled off in the slight breeze from the office air conditioning. He’d spent a bit too much time on the south coast of France without proper sun protection and, despite his dark complexion, he’d gotten a bit of a sunburn. The young man behind the reception desk glanced down at his communication panel and looked up at Sanjay.
“You can go in now,” he said, tipping his head towards the double doors emblazoned with the Starfleet emblem. Sanjay rose, nodding his thanks, and made his way into the office beyond. Inside, Admiral Katheryn Janeway was just turning away from the replicator to greet her visitor. Extending one of the two steaming cups she held to Sanjay she said,
“Turkish, if I recall correctly. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, Admiral.”
Sanjay took the proffered coffee and made himself comfortable in a nearby chair. Janeway returned to her place behind the desk and for a moment they merely inhaled the fragrance of the strong brews in their hands. Then, after taking a sip and setting her battered steel mug down, Janeway cleared her throat.
“Shore leave seems to have agreed with you, captain. Did you actually get yourself sunburned?”
Sanjay answered a bit ruefully, “Yes, Admiral, I’m afraid I did. I fell asleep on the beach near Marseilles.” He shrugged. “Its not too bad but I am beginning to peel a bit.”
Janeway chuckled. “Well, I hope the experience left you well rested-and a little more aware of the benefits of sunblock.” Her expression became more serious. “I have an assignment for you and your crew. We recently received a request for diplomatic mediation from a pair of planets on the far edge of Cardassian space. The two polities involved are the Miik Regime and the Darnellon Unified State. They have apparently been having a nasty little war and both planets are on the edge of ecological collapse. They’ve asked us to act as mediators to establish some kind of peace between them before their respective planets are rendered uninhabitable. I want to send the Seleya to check the situation over and see if the Federation can be of any help.” Janeway paused, as if waiting for Sanjay’s reaction. It wasn’t long in coming.
“Might I ask why you are sending the Seleya instead of a regular diplomatic team?”
“These are rather special circumstances, Captain. This is an area of space Starfleet really hasn’t explored yet. We need a First Contact team for this job and Commander M’Benga, your First Officer, is fully qualified and experienced in such matters.” Janeway grinned at him, waiting once again. Sanjay looked thoughtfully at her before speaking.
“If they have already requested our help in ending their war, how can this be a First Contact situation?”
The grin on Janeway’s face grew wider. “We received their request on a standard Federation subspace channel just a few days ago. It took the Diplomatic Corps a little while to realize this was a unique situation. You see, Sanjay, we have absolutely no record of any species in that area of space. In fact, although they had claimed it, the Cardassians never really explored that area either. When we cross-checked with them we came up empty. We don’t know who these people are.” She looked at him with a gleam in her eye. Sanjay opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. A pensive expression crawled across his face. After a few moments of reflection he spoke up.
“How did they know to use that particular transmission frequency?” he asked.
“That’s one of the things we’d like you to find out,” Janeway answered. “You’re scheduled to leave day after tomorrow. We’d like to help these people but your primary mission is to find out who they are and how they used a Federation channel to contact us. There’s something very odd going on here and we’re relying on you and your crew to find some answers.” She added as an afterthought, “It sounds like it could be quite a little adventure.”
“Admiral, I hope it isn’t. It’s been my experience that adventure consists of someone suffering through trying circumstances in a place they would rather not be. I would be happy enough if this mission turns out to be routine and boring.” Sanjay stood and Janeway rose with him, laughing.
“Well, Sanjay, I hope you get your wish. We are Starfleet, though. Routine and boring rarely fit the job description.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sanjay returned, walking to the door. As he left Janeway gave him a parting smile.
“Good luck, Captain. And godspeed,” she said. The cooler air of the outer office gave Sanjay a little chill down his back as he walked away.
***Two Days Later…***
“So what information do we have about these people?” Commander M’Benga looked across the Briefing Room table at Captain Sanjay. The rest of the assembled command crew waited expectantly for his answer.
“The transmission Starfleet received contained some basic information along with the request for help. If you’ll turn your attention to the display,” Sanjay said, gesturing towards the side wall, “This is what the two planets, Mii and Varek, looked like ten years ago right before the war started.” Two M-class planets showed on the display, predominantly blue with swirls of white clouds. Excepting differences in surface features, there was little to distinguish between the two. “And this is what they look like now.” The display changed to show two very different images. Mii, the planet on the left, was almost completely whited over, with a high albedo denoting large quantities of ice. What little water there was that still remained visible was a sickly greenish color, as though coated with pond scum. Varek, the other planet, looked like a large ball of dirt. The clouds were shot through with smears of gray and black. Multiple points on the surface glowed red, as though giant volcanoes were erupting across the planet. “Spectroscopic analysis of these images indicates that Mii is suffering from a ‘nuclear winter’ situation, while Verak has clear-cut evidence of orbital bombardment with anti-matter weapons.” The looks around the table ranged from shocked to sickened. Sgt. Mitchell was the only one who kept a deceptively laconic expression on his face. “The Science Division estimates surface conditions on Mii have rendered about ninety percent of the planet uninhabitable. Verak may well be beyond the point where it is capable of supporting life at all without artificial assistance.”
Lt. Nog spoke up. “And they’re still fighting each other? Where’s the profit in that?”
“That’s precisely why they’ve asked for our help in ending the conflict. Both species,” Sanjay adjusted the display again to show two basically humanoid figures, “Are on the verge of extinction.” The figure on the left, a Miik, had grayish skin with a mane of black hair or fur encircling its head. Above the dark eyes was a heavy sub-orbital ridge. It was dressed in a powder blue outfit that fairly screamed ‘military’. The other figure, a Verakian, was noticeably thinner of build, with creamy brown skin very close in color to Commander M’Benga’s. Its head was hairless, with recessed ears and piercing green eyes. It, too, was wearing some kind of uniform, white with red accents. “The transmission was somewhat generalized as to the cause of the conflict,” Sanjay continued, “But it would seem that the Miik acquired warp capabilities about twenty years ago. The first intelligent species they encountered were the Verakians, who were a pre-warp civilization at the time. Not having a Prime Directive to guide them, the Miik apparently shared warp technology with the Verakians. Somewhere along the line a shooting war erupted, with the results you just saw.”
Dr. Ramirez caught the captain’s attention. “Will we be attempting to render medical aid?”
“At this point,” Sanjay replied, “Starfleet is stretched pretty thin in that area due to the Cardassian situation. Any decisions along those lines will have to happen in the Federation Council. We will help as much as we can if asked, of course, but considering the scale of their disaster anything we do will merely be a drop in the bucket.” Jesus nodded his head as if confirming something he already knew.
“Captain?” Mitchell spoke for the first time. “Do we have any idea of their remaining military capabilities? Whatever they used on each other seemed fairly, ah, energetic.”
Sanjay shook his head. “There wasn’t enough information provided to make even an intelligent guess. They could be capable of mounting a fleet-sized battle group of starships or they could be reduced to shooting at each other with flintlocks. All we know about their current level of technology is that they can still transmit a subspace signal. Your job, when we get there, will be to give me a working threat assessment.” Mitchell nodded thoughtfully.
Sanjay turned towards Commander M’Benga. “Carol, the plan is to bring their delegates aboard for the negotiations. However, we don’t know if that’s their plan. I want you to be prepared to go down to the surface of either planet if necessary. The actual contact end of this mission is entirely in your hands.”
“Can I pick my own team?” she inquired.
“Of course,” Sanjay said.
“Then I’d like to have Mr. Nog with me. I suspect his business acumen will help me ferret out any hidden agendas and such.” Nog smiled, obviously pleased with the compliment.
“Don’t worry, Commander,” he said, “If everything isn’t on the up and up I’ll figure it out for you.”
M’Benga rewarded him with a smile. “I’m sure you will, Mr. Nog.”
Sanjay stood. “Then if there are no more questions this meeting is ended. Let’s get out of spacedock and get moving.” The crew headed for the exit. “And Mr. Nog?”
The Ferengi paused on his way to the door. “Yes, sir?”
“Try not to ram the ship into anything on the way out, ok?” Sanjay’s voice held amusement.
Nog’s ears flushed. “Yes, sir.”
PART TWO-The Delta Has Ears
The first stop was Mii and it was weeks away. As the Seleya made her way there Sgt. Mitchell drilled his Security people incessantly. They would pop up anywhere and everywhere at all times of the day or night to repel simulated boarders. Holodeck One was entirely taken over and Mitchell did his best to teach everything he had learned in the Marines to each member of his department. They battled, physically and mentally, against everything from Jem H’adar to Gorn. When he wasn’t working them out he was stretching their tactical knowledge in firefights against Romulan warbirds, Dominion bugs, Tholian cruisers and even various “rogue” Starfleet vessels. Nobody in Security was bored. Other things, perhaps, but not bored.
For the rest of the crew, though, it was a long trip with duty shifts surrounded by large clumps of downtime. Holodecks could only help so much to alleviate boredom. Within the first couple of days Dr. Ramirez had taken steps to rectify the situation. Since he had full access to all personnel files he tracked down crewmembers with unique knowledge or talents and encouraged them to share what they knew in classroom and group formats. On a ship as big as Seleya there were a lot of hidden talents, which is how the Ten Forward Lounge finally received its name.
It was a Friday night and a couple of crewmen from Life Sciences had cobbled together a band, led by Dr. Ramirez on guitar. They were in the lounge running through some classic numbers, a few songs by the Beatles, a flamenco piece or two. Off-duty crewmembers were scattered around the room. Lt. Nog and Chief Jerix were sharing a table and a drink together.
“They’re not bad,” Jerix said, gesturing towards the musicians, “And the doctor really seems to handle that instrument well.”
Nog took a sip of his root beer and snorted. “I suppose, if you don’t mind the occasional sour note.”
Jerix lifted his bushy eyebrows high. “Am I to understand you to be some kind of expert on Human music?”
“I’m Ferengi. Look at these ears. I’m an expert on almost any kind of music. The doctor’s alright but he’s nothing special,” Nog sneered.
“You think you could do better?” Jerix asked.
“Do greeworms mate in mud?” Nog replied.
“Well, Nog, here’s your chance,” Jerix said, pointing towards the band. The last song had come to a close and Jesus had set his guitar against his stool and made for the bar. “Let us hear what you can do.” The rest of the band members were milling around their instruments, taking sips from their various drinks.
Nog stammered a moment but seeing the challenging look on Jerix’s face he set his root beer down and made for the dais. Picking up the guitar, he plopped onto Jesus’s stool. His feet dangled in the air like a child’s. He strummed the strings once and made a few adjustments. The other musicians just watched with bemusement. Around the lounge people began to notice, nudging each other and pointing towards Nog. Nog looked back at the other players.
“Give me a simple beat, guys,” he said, “And follow me on the change-ups, ok?” The others picked up their instruments and nodded. The drummer began brushing his snare. The bassist came in low and slow. Then Nog played. As the rising strains of “Hellhounds On My Trail” came out of the guitar mouths began to drop open around the room. Jesus stood watching from the bar, a startled look on his face. The Centauran bartender, Mikfin, quietly adjusted the lounge lighting so that the primary source was focused on Nog. Nobody moved, nobody drank, nobody spoke. Nog perfectly reproduced the Robert Johnson classic right down to the fuzzy slides across the strings. As the song’s final note sounded Nog flipped the guitar setting from acoustic to electric and immediately launched into “Crossroad”, the other players struggling to keep up. Feet were tapping all over the lounge. When he finished, Nog went into a Muddy Waters number and then segued into a Roy Harper tune. As he finished the room erupted in applause.
His face shiny with sweat, Nog hopped down off of the stool and made his way to the bar. He handed the guitar to a gaping Jesus. “It was a little out of tune, Doc. It’s alright now.” Then he went back to his seat at the table with Jerix.
“Lieutenant, that was astounding. Wherever did you learn to play like that?” Jerix’s voice was full of admiration.
“When I attended the Academy I used to go to Sisko’s in New Orleans every night for dinner. The owner is my best friend’s grandfather. I’d help him with the dinner rush and he’d feed me and teach me guitar after hours. On the weekends I’d sit in with the house band.” Nog said this matter-of-factly.
“And what style of music was that?” Jerix asked. “It was very powerful but I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it.”
Nog took a big drink of his root beer and wiped at his face with a cloth napkin. “It’s called Delta blues. It goes back hundreds of years in Hu-mon history. From back when they still oppressed one another based on skin color. Well, Chief, I have to go on duty soon. I’ll see you later.” Jerix watched him leave through narrowed eyes. Then a grin spread across his face.
The next day when the Ten Forward Lounge re-opened after its cleaning cycle there was a fiber-optic sign above the door. It read:
DELTA LOUNGE
PART THREE-Who’s Kidding Who
The arrival in the Miik system was preceded by continuous hails from the Seleya, all of which were ignored. It was only as the ship made orbit that they received any reply at all. Instead of coming from the surface, though, it came from a small ship that lifted off from one of Miik’s two moons and it was audio only.
[“Greetings Federation vessel. This is First Councilor Toran of the Miik Regime. We are receiving your hail.”]
Sanjay held his hand up to keep Commander M’Benga from opening a response channel.
“Sgt. Mitchell, what do you make of our welcoming party?”
Mitchell answered promptly from his place at Tactical. “It’s a primitive craft, sir, probably no better than warp 4. Lasers of some sort and possible chemical rocket launching tubes. No energy shielding although the hull is a fairly rugged titanium alloy. I doubt it could stand up to one of the old NX ships in combat. No sensors beyond infrared and radar. They’re a negligible threat.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Commander, open a channel, please.”
“Channel open, sir.”
“Greetings, First Councilor Toran. This is Captain Niklesh Sanjay of the Federation starship Seleya. We are here in response to the message sent to us requesting diplomatic aid.”
[“Ah, yes, of course you are. The delegation from the Darnellon Unified State should be arriving within the hour. Ah, we had hoped to hold our, ah, discussions in our base on Phillo, ah, the moon we just left but your ship…Well, ah, do you have something smaller you can land with? I’m afraid your vessel is larger than our spaceport, ah, you see.”]
“I believe we can find something more accommodating. Shall we meet you in two hours?” Sanjay gave Commander M’Benga a puzzled look.
[“That would be satisfactory. Ah, in two hours then.”] The small ship peeled off and headed back towards the moon in question.
“Captain?” M’Benga asked.
Sanjay turned towards her. “I’m a bit confused here. These people have radar and laser beams. There is no way they could have known when we would arrive, or if we were even coming for that matter. Yet the delegates from the other side will be here in an hour? I want you to be very careful down there, Commander. Something strange is going on, and this far out we are on our own. Be suspicious of everything and everybody.”
“Yes, sir. Did you hear that, Mr. Nog? Oh, sorry. Of course you did.” M’Benga looked embarrassed for a moment. “Sergeant Mitchell, could you assign a couple of your Security people to my Away team? I’d feel better knowing we had some kind of protection down there, just in case.”
Mitchell grinned at her. “I’ll go myself, if you’d like.”
Sanjay intervened. “No, Sergeant. I’d like to hold you back in reserve. There’s something damn peculiar going on and when we finally figure out what it is I may need you to react to it. You can’t do that if you’re already down at their base cut off from the Seleya’s resources.”
“Ok, Captain,” he replied. Turning to M’Benga, he said, “How about I give you Torres and Shandahat?”
“You want to assign me the only Andorian stand-up comic in the quadrant?” Seeing the look that crossed Mitchell’s face she quickly amended herself. “I’m sure they’ll be fine, Sergeant. You’ve trained all of your people to peak perfection.”
Sanjay spoke up. “Good, then its settled. Get your team together and make whatever preparations you see fit.”
M’Benga flashed him a brilliant smile and bounced out of her chair. “I don’t really have any preparations to make, Captain. I like to deal with fluid situations as they develop. But I guess I can go inform my Security detail of our mission. C’mon, Mr. Nog.” She beckoned with her hand as she headed for the turbolift.
Sanjay watched the two of them leave the Bridge and then glanced at Mitchell, who shrugged noncommittally. He sighed and rubbed his temples, then turned back to the viewscreen.
PART ONE-Someone’s Knocking At the Door
Captain Niklesh Sanjay sat in the waiting room scratching his nose. Minute flakes of skin twirled off in the slight breeze from the office air conditioning. He’d spent a bit too much time on the south coast of France without proper sun protection and, despite his dark complexion, he’d gotten a bit of a sunburn. The young man behind the reception desk glanced down at his communication panel and looked up at Sanjay.
“You can go in now,” he said, tipping his head towards the double doors emblazoned with the Starfleet emblem. Sanjay rose, nodding his thanks, and made his way into the office beyond. Inside, Admiral Katheryn Janeway was just turning away from the replicator to greet her visitor. Extending one of the two steaming cups she held to Sanjay she said,
“Turkish, if I recall correctly. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, Admiral.”
Sanjay took the proffered coffee and made himself comfortable in a nearby chair. Janeway returned to her place behind the desk and for a moment they merely inhaled the fragrance of the strong brews in their hands. Then, after taking a sip and setting her battered steel mug down, Janeway cleared her throat.
“Shore leave seems to have agreed with you, captain. Did you actually get yourself sunburned?”
Sanjay answered a bit ruefully, “Yes, Admiral, I’m afraid I did. I fell asleep on the beach near Marseilles.” He shrugged. “Its not too bad but I am beginning to peel a bit.”
Janeway chuckled. “Well, I hope the experience left you well rested-and a little more aware of the benefits of sunblock.” Her expression became more serious. “I have an assignment for you and your crew. We recently received a request for diplomatic mediation from a pair of planets on the far edge of Cardassian space. The two polities involved are the Miik Regime and the Darnellon Unified State. They have apparently been having a nasty little war and both planets are on the edge of ecological collapse. They’ve asked us to act as mediators to establish some kind of peace between them before their respective planets are rendered uninhabitable. I want to send the Seleya to check the situation over and see if the Federation can be of any help.” Janeway paused, as if waiting for Sanjay’s reaction. It wasn’t long in coming.
“Might I ask why you are sending the Seleya instead of a regular diplomatic team?”
“These are rather special circumstances, Captain. This is an area of space Starfleet really hasn’t explored yet. We need a First Contact team for this job and Commander M’Benga, your First Officer, is fully qualified and experienced in such matters.” Janeway grinned at him, waiting once again. Sanjay looked thoughtfully at her before speaking.
“If they have already requested our help in ending their war, how can this be a First Contact situation?”
The grin on Janeway’s face grew wider. “We received their request on a standard Federation subspace channel just a few days ago. It took the Diplomatic Corps a little while to realize this was a unique situation. You see, Sanjay, we have absolutely no record of any species in that area of space. In fact, although they had claimed it, the Cardassians never really explored that area either. When we cross-checked with them we came up empty. We don’t know who these people are.” She looked at him with a gleam in her eye. Sanjay opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. A pensive expression crawled across his face. After a few moments of reflection he spoke up.
“How did they know to use that particular transmission frequency?” he asked.
“That’s one of the things we’d like you to find out,” Janeway answered. “You’re scheduled to leave day after tomorrow. We’d like to help these people but your primary mission is to find out who they are and how they used a Federation channel to contact us. There’s something very odd going on here and we’re relying on you and your crew to find some answers.” She added as an afterthought, “It sounds like it could be quite a little adventure.”
“Admiral, I hope it isn’t. It’s been my experience that adventure consists of someone suffering through trying circumstances in a place they would rather not be. I would be happy enough if this mission turns out to be routine and boring.” Sanjay stood and Janeway rose with him, laughing.
“Well, Sanjay, I hope you get your wish. We are Starfleet, though. Routine and boring rarely fit the job description.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sanjay returned, walking to the door. As he left Janeway gave him a parting smile.
“Good luck, Captain. And godspeed,” she said. The cooler air of the outer office gave Sanjay a little chill down his back as he walked away.
***Two Days Later…***
“So what information do we have about these people?” Commander M’Benga looked across the Briefing Room table at Captain Sanjay. The rest of the assembled command crew waited expectantly for his answer.
“The transmission Starfleet received contained some basic information along with the request for help. If you’ll turn your attention to the display,” Sanjay said, gesturing towards the side wall, “This is what the two planets, Mii and Varek, looked like ten years ago right before the war started.” Two M-class planets showed on the display, predominantly blue with swirls of white clouds. Excepting differences in surface features, there was little to distinguish between the two. “And this is what they look like now.” The display changed to show two very different images. Mii, the planet on the left, was almost completely whited over, with a high albedo denoting large quantities of ice. What little water there was that still remained visible was a sickly greenish color, as though coated with pond scum. Varek, the other planet, looked like a large ball of dirt. The clouds were shot through with smears of gray and black. Multiple points on the surface glowed red, as though giant volcanoes were erupting across the planet. “Spectroscopic analysis of these images indicates that Mii is suffering from a ‘nuclear winter’ situation, while Verak has clear-cut evidence of orbital bombardment with anti-matter weapons.” The looks around the table ranged from shocked to sickened. Sgt. Mitchell was the only one who kept a deceptively laconic expression on his face. “The Science Division estimates surface conditions on Mii have rendered about ninety percent of the planet uninhabitable. Verak may well be beyond the point where it is capable of supporting life at all without artificial assistance.”
Lt. Nog spoke up. “And they’re still fighting each other? Where’s the profit in that?”
“That’s precisely why they’ve asked for our help in ending the conflict. Both species,” Sanjay adjusted the display again to show two basically humanoid figures, “Are on the verge of extinction.” The figure on the left, a Miik, had grayish skin with a mane of black hair or fur encircling its head. Above the dark eyes was a heavy sub-orbital ridge. It was dressed in a powder blue outfit that fairly screamed ‘military’. The other figure, a Verakian, was noticeably thinner of build, with creamy brown skin very close in color to Commander M’Benga’s. Its head was hairless, with recessed ears and piercing green eyes. It, too, was wearing some kind of uniform, white with red accents. “The transmission was somewhat generalized as to the cause of the conflict,” Sanjay continued, “But it would seem that the Miik acquired warp capabilities about twenty years ago. The first intelligent species they encountered were the Verakians, who were a pre-warp civilization at the time. Not having a Prime Directive to guide them, the Miik apparently shared warp technology with the Verakians. Somewhere along the line a shooting war erupted, with the results you just saw.”
Dr. Ramirez caught the captain’s attention. “Will we be attempting to render medical aid?”
“At this point,” Sanjay replied, “Starfleet is stretched pretty thin in that area due to the Cardassian situation. Any decisions along those lines will have to happen in the Federation Council. We will help as much as we can if asked, of course, but considering the scale of their disaster anything we do will merely be a drop in the bucket.” Jesus nodded his head as if confirming something he already knew.
“Captain?” Mitchell spoke for the first time. “Do we have any idea of their remaining military capabilities? Whatever they used on each other seemed fairly, ah, energetic.”
Sanjay shook his head. “There wasn’t enough information provided to make even an intelligent guess. They could be capable of mounting a fleet-sized battle group of starships or they could be reduced to shooting at each other with flintlocks. All we know about their current level of technology is that they can still transmit a subspace signal. Your job, when we get there, will be to give me a working threat assessment.” Mitchell nodded thoughtfully.
Sanjay turned towards Commander M’Benga. “Carol, the plan is to bring their delegates aboard for the negotiations. However, we don’t know if that’s their plan. I want you to be prepared to go down to the surface of either planet if necessary. The actual contact end of this mission is entirely in your hands.”
“Can I pick my own team?” she inquired.
“Of course,” Sanjay said.
“Then I’d like to have Mr. Nog with me. I suspect his business acumen will help me ferret out any hidden agendas and such.” Nog smiled, obviously pleased with the compliment.
“Don’t worry, Commander,” he said, “If everything isn’t on the up and up I’ll figure it out for you.”
M’Benga rewarded him with a smile. “I’m sure you will, Mr. Nog.”
Sanjay stood. “Then if there are no more questions this meeting is ended. Let’s get out of spacedock and get moving.” The crew headed for the exit. “And Mr. Nog?”
The Ferengi paused on his way to the door. “Yes, sir?”
“Try not to ram the ship into anything on the way out, ok?” Sanjay’s voice held amusement.
Nog’s ears flushed. “Yes, sir.”
PART TWO-The Delta Has Ears
The first stop was Mii and it was weeks away. As the Seleya made her way there Sgt. Mitchell drilled his Security people incessantly. They would pop up anywhere and everywhere at all times of the day or night to repel simulated boarders. Holodeck One was entirely taken over and Mitchell did his best to teach everything he had learned in the Marines to each member of his department. They battled, physically and mentally, against everything from Jem H’adar to Gorn. When he wasn’t working them out he was stretching their tactical knowledge in firefights against Romulan warbirds, Dominion bugs, Tholian cruisers and even various “rogue” Starfleet vessels. Nobody in Security was bored. Other things, perhaps, but not bored.
For the rest of the crew, though, it was a long trip with duty shifts surrounded by large clumps of downtime. Holodecks could only help so much to alleviate boredom. Within the first couple of days Dr. Ramirez had taken steps to rectify the situation. Since he had full access to all personnel files he tracked down crewmembers with unique knowledge or talents and encouraged them to share what they knew in classroom and group formats. On a ship as big as Seleya there were a lot of hidden talents, which is how the Ten Forward Lounge finally received its name.
It was a Friday night and a couple of crewmen from Life Sciences had cobbled together a band, led by Dr. Ramirez on guitar. They were in the lounge running through some classic numbers, a few songs by the Beatles, a flamenco piece or two. Off-duty crewmembers were scattered around the room. Lt. Nog and Chief Jerix were sharing a table and a drink together.
“They’re not bad,” Jerix said, gesturing towards the musicians, “And the doctor really seems to handle that instrument well.”
Nog took a sip of his root beer and snorted. “I suppose, if you don’t mind the occasional sour note.”
Jerix lifted his bushy eyebrows high. “Am I to understand you to be some kind of expert on Human music?”
“I’m Ferengi. Look at these ears. I’m an expert on almost any kind of music. The doctor’s alright but he’s nothing special,” Nog sneered.
“You think you could do better?” Jerix asked.
“Do greeworms mate in mud?” Nog replied.
“Well, Nog, here’s your chance,” Jerix said, pointing towards the band. The last song had come to a close and Jesus had set his guitar against his stool and made for the bar. “Let us hear what you can do.” The rest of the band members were milling around their instruments, taking sips from their various drinks.
Nog stammered a moment but seeing the challenging look on Jerix’s face he set his root beer down and made for the dais. Picking up the guitar, he plopped onto Jesus’s stool. His feet dangled in the air like a child’s. He strummed the strings once and made a few adjustments. The other musicians just watched with bemusement. Around the lounge people began to notice, nudging each other and pointing towards Nog. Nog looked back at the other players.
“Give me a simple beat, guys,” he said, “And follow me on the change-ups, ok?” The others picked up their instruments and nodded. The drummer began brushing his snare. The bassist came in low and slow. Then Nog played. As the rising strains of “Hellhounds On My Trail” came out of the guitar mouths began to drop open around the room. Jesus stood watching from the bar, a startled look on his face. The Centauran bartender, Mikfin, quietly adjusted the lounge lighting so that the primary source was focused on Nog. Nobody moved, nobody drank, nobody spoke. Nog perfectly reproduced the Robert Johnson classic right down to the fuzzy slides across the strings. As the song’s final note sounded Nog flipped the guitar setting from acoustic to electric and immediately launched into “Crossroad”, the other players struggling to keep up. Feet were tapping all over the lounge. When he finished, Nog went into a Muddy Waters number and then segued into a Roy Harper tune. As he finished the room erupted in applause.
His face shiny with sweat, Nog hopped down off of the stool and made his way to the bar. He handed the guitar to a gaping Jesus. “It was a little out of tune, Doc. It’s alright now.” Then he went back to his seat at the table with Jerix.
“Lieutenant, that was astounding. Wherever did you learn to play like that?” Jerix’s voice was full of admiration.
“When I attended the Academy I used to go to Sisko’s in New Orleans every night for dinner. The owner is my best friend’s grandfather. I’d help him with the dinner rush and he’d feed me and teach me guitar after hours. On the weekends I’d sit in with the house band.” Nog said this matter-of-factly.
“And what style of music was that?” Jerix asked. “It was very powerful but I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it.”
Nog took a big drink of his root beer and wiped at his face with a cloth napkin. “It’s called Delta blues. It goes back hundreds of years in Hu-mon history. From back when they still oppressed one another based on skin color. Well, Chief, I have to go on duty soon. I’ll see you later.” Jerix watched him leave through narrowed eyes. Then a grin spread across his face.
The next day when the Ten Forward Lounge re-opened after its cleaning cycle there was a fiber-optic sign above the door. It read:
DELTA LOUNGE
PART THREE-Who’s Kidding Who
The arrival in the Miik system was preceded by continuous hails from the Seleya, all of which were ignored. It was only as the ship made orbit that they received any reply at all. Instead of coming from the surface, though, it came from a small ship that lifted off from one of Miik’s two moons and it was audio only.
[“Greetings Federation vessel. This is First Councilor Toran of the Miik Regime. We are receiving your hail.”]
Sanjay held his hand up to keep Commander M’Benga from opening a response channel.
“Sgt. Mitchell, what do you make of our welcoming party?”
Mitchell answered promptly from his place at Tactical. “It’s a primitive craft, sir, probably no better than warp 4. Lasers of some sort and possible chemical rocket launching tubes. No energy shielding although the hull is a fairly rugged titanium alloy. I doubt it could stand up to one of the old NX ships in combat. No sensors beyond infrared and radar. They’re a negligible threat.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Commander, open a channel, please.”
“Channel open, sir.”
“Greetings, First Councilor Toran. This is Captain Niklesh Sanjay of the Federation starship Seleya. We are here in response to the message sent to us requesting diplomatic aid.”
[“Ah, yes, of course you are. The delegation from the Darnellon Unified State should be arriving within the hour. Ah, we had hoped to hold our, ah, discussions in our base on Phillo, ah, the moon we just left but your ship…Well, ah, do you have something smaller you can land with? I’m afraid your vessel is larger than our spaceport, ah, you see.”]
“I believe we can find something more accommodating. Shall we meet you in two hours?” Sanjay gave Commander M’Benga a puzzled look.
[“That would be satisfactory. Ah, in two hours then.”] The small ship peeled off and headed back towards the moon in question.
“Captain?” M’Benga asked.
Sanjay turned towards her. “I’m a bit confused here. These people have radar and laser beams. There is no way they could have known when we would arrive, or if we were even coming for that matter. Yet the delegates from the other side will be here in an hour? I want you to be very careful down there, Commander. Something strange is going on, and this far out we are on our own. Be suspicious of everything and everybody.”
“Yes, sir. Did you hear that, Mr. Nog? Oh, sorry. Of course you did.” M’Benga looked embarrassed for a moment. “Sergeant Mitchell, could you assign a couple of your Security people to my Away team? I’d feel better knowing we had some kind of protection down there, just in case.”
Mitchell grinned at her. “I’ll go myself, if you’d like.”
Sanjay intervened. “No, Sergeant. I’d like to hold you back in reserve. There’s something damn peculiar going on and when we finally figure out what it is I may need you to react to it. You can’t do that if you’re already down at their base cut off from the Seleya’s resources.”
“Ok, Captain,” he replied. Turning to M’Benga, he said, “How about I give you Torres and Shandahat?”
“You want to assign me the only Andorian stand-up comic in the quadrant?” Seeing the look that crossed Mitchell’s face she quickly amended herself. “I’m sure they’ll be fine, Sergeant. You’ve trained all of your people to peak perfection.”
Sanjay spoke up. “Good, then its settled. Get your team together and make whatever preparations you see fit.”
M’Benga flashed him a brilliant smile and bounced out of her chair. “I don’t really have any preparations to make, Captain. I like to deal with fluid situations as they develop. But I guess I can go inform my Security detail of our mission. C’mon, Mr. Nog.” She beckoned with her hand as she headed for the turbolift.
Sanjay watched the two of them leave the Bridge and then glanced at Mitchell, who shrugged noncommittally. He sighed and rubbed his temples, then turned back to the viewscreen.
I'm impressed Sanjay kept his cool upon learning of the away team's supposed fate. You're doing great work here.
