• Welcome! The TrekBBS is the number one place to chat about Star Trek with like-minded fans.
    If you are not already a member then please register an account and join in the discussion!

U.S.S. SELEYA : FRAIL BLOOD

PART 8 – THE FAULT LIES NOT IN THE STARS

“We, the people of Earth, greet you in a spirit of peace and humility. As we venture out of our solar system, we hope to earn the trust and friendship of other worlds. “ Shandahat, Torres and M’Benga all chanted the quote in unison, startling Treea.

M’Benga smiled at her apologetically. “We all learned that in school,” she said.

Treea nodded thoughtfully. “That is the first part of the message that we heard when we found the transmitter. And there was some peculiar music as well.” As she spoke Nog was walking up to the small craft with a loving look in his eyes. He stopped next to the main body and reached out a hand to touch the hull reverently.

“Well, Vivaldi isn’t my cup of tea but I don’t know if I’d call it ‘peculiar’,” quipped Torres. M’Benga rolled her eyes and hurriedly spoke to smooth over Treea’s confusion at the comment.

“Treea, you said there was an antenna that allowed transmissions to get out of this base. Could I use it to contact my ship?”

Treea frowned. “Using it could compromise our location. I’m sure that after our raid the Dresga are actively hunting for us.”

Carol smiled. “I think I can avoid the Dresga’s detection capabilities. The transmission frequency of this old probe is a bit different from our personal communicators and I should be able to vary my signal enough to hide it.” Her voice took on a hint of pleading, “We really need to let our ship know what’s going on and that we’re alright.”

Treea thought for a few moments before coming to a decision. “If you are detected,” she asked, “Will your ship protect us in the event of a Dresga attack?”

Now it was Carol’s turn to think. “I’m pretty sure that when Captain Sanjay hears what I have to tell him he’ll be more than happy to deal with any Dresga threats.”

Treea nodded. “Very well,” she said, “If you’ll come with me?” As she turned to leave Nog spoke up.

“Commander, could I stay here so I can examine the probe some more?” The anxious tone in his voice made Carol grin.

“I don’t see any harm in that. Mr. Torres can stay with you. I want you both to remain in this room, though. Don’t go wandering off and getting lost.”

“Yes, sir,” Torres replied. Nog didn’t answer. He was already poking around the innards of the defunct spacecraft with barely disguised glee. Carol grinned even harder as she, Treea and Shandahat headed out into the corridor.
 
more of part 8-I hope

The weather patterns of Mii were horrible and the Asimov was bucking and slewing as it decended. C'mell hunched over the controls as she fought to keep them on course. The rest of the strike team hung on to various parts of the superstructure to avoid being flung about. As they broke through the cloud layer that enveloped the planet the vast levels of destruction visited on it became clearer. Through the cockpit window they could see massive craters, like giant splash marks, all over the surface. Some areas glowed red with subterranean fires, while others looked bare, as though all of the features had been wiped away. There wasn't a whole lot of time for sight-seeing, though, as the mission profile called for a hard drop on the target area. The Asimov went from orbit to the ground in a few minutes.

As soon as the craft touched down C'mell idled the engines and released anti-radiation buffer gas into the cabin to keep it from being contaminated. Once the gas had spread Mitchell dropped the back hatch and the team dived out to take up firing positions around the shuttle. C'mell, the last one out, sealed the hatch behind her. She then dropped into a crouch, cradling her Klingon grenade launcher. After scanning the surrounding area for hostiles the team split up, with Mitchell and Dolph forming one unit and Hanauer and Margie a second. The two units began scanningfor an entrance to the shielded underground area Ensign Perling and the other science people had identified. C'mell stayed with the shuttle, ready to support either unit as needed. It took several minutes of searching with the mini-tricorders built into their phaser rifles but eventually Dolph called out, "Over here!" The rest of the strike team convened on his location.
 
What they saw when they arrived was a fair-sized pile of small boulders. Dolph pointed right into the center of them. "I'm getting variable E-M readings from under that," he said. Hanauer walked over and tried to lift one of the rocks. It wouldn't budge. He tried with a second and got the same results. C'mell walked up next to him and dropped to her knees. She began examining the rock pile carefully while Margie and Dolph kept watch over the surrounding terrain. After a few moments C'mell grunted.

"These are fused together intentionally. I think they're camouflage. Give me a few seconds and Ill have them cleared off." She began assembling various components fromher equipment pouches. The rest of the strike team, used to her methods, gave her and the rock pile a wide berth. They began looking for protective outcroppings to hide behind instead. C'mell whistled softly to herself over the circuit they all shared as she worked. When she was done she took a step back, turned to face away from her handiwork, and called out, "Fire in the hole!" The rest of the team buried their faceplates in the dirt. There was a blinding flash and a faint "Whump!", the noise muffled by their suits. When they looked up again C'mell was standing there with one hand on her hip and a scornful look on her face. "What are you all lying down for?" she sneered. Everyone treated her question as rhetorical and failed to answer. Instead, they climbed to their feet to see what results she'd achieved.

Where the boulders had sat was now a large metal hatch, flush with the ground except for the handle protruding from it. C'mell's activities had left a scorch mark right in the middle of it. "You want me to blow it, Sergeant?" she asked.

"That might not be a good idea," Mitchell replied, "If we let this radiation in and our people are in there unprotected..." he let his voice trail off. C'mell looked disappointed. "Hanauer, you want to take a crack at it?" he asked. Hanauer didn't say anything, he just began pulling some rather odd devices out of one of his suit pockets. Resting his rifle next to the hatch, he bent to work. It was slow going and Mitchell began to worry about his team's exposure time to the lethal atmosphere before Hanauer finally stood back up. He slipped his devices back into his pocket before speaking.

"That should get it, Sergeant," he commented. "It wasn't too complicated-just had a lot of shielding blocking access to the lock."

Mitchell stepped up to the hatch and grasped the handle, cradling his rifle in the other hand. He waited until he was sure his team was all ready before he cranked the handle and pulled the hatch open. "Ok, let's go, people!" he commanded.
 
I like C'mell! "What are you all lying down for? " ... lol ... that was a classic line.

Ok so now we've got a bad-ass security team, going in to rescue the away team from what appears to be friendly aliens. Something else is up ...
 
Nicely done! I like the security team and what's this about Vivaldi not being Torres' cup of tea? How can one not like Vivaldi? :)
 
Nicely done! I like the security team and what's this about Vivaldi not being Torres' cup of tea? How can one not like Vivaldi? :)

Egad! Not liking Vivaldi? Barbaric!

Nice work with the characters and mood-setting. I'm getting a better feel for the crew, their personalities and quirks the more you write. Nice stuff!
 
PART NINE- HOISTING THEIR PETARD

Nog was buried in the guts of FRIENDSHIP 6. Torres could hear little chortles of joy echoing hollowly from the body of the ancient probe. He didn’t begrudge the Ferengi his fun exploring the device but it wasn’t anything that he, himself, was interested in. After several minutes of extreme boredom, broken up only by his attempts to prop up the wall next to the lab entrance, he wandered over to the computer banks lining an adjacent wall. Most of them looked as though they had been gutted long ago, their drives and wiring torn out. A few were still active, their interfaces wiped clean and obviously recently used. Torres was about to start poking at buttons randomly when he noticed a unit in the corner that looked different from the rest.

This computer was dust-covered, standing isolated from the others. Thick cables ran from the back into a conduit in the wall. Torres sidled over to it and glanced back at the door. No one was there. He stared at the controls intently for a moment and then reached a finger out towards a plastic toggle set apart from the other buttons and switches. When he pressed it a low hum permeated the room. Lights activated on the control panel and an LCD monitor sprang to life. Symbols in what he could only guess were a Miikan programming language raced across the screen. He pulled his tricorder out and activated its interface function. Setting it down on the panel, he waited for it to signal a successful meshing with the alien system. In just a few moments it beeped to alert him that the interface had succeeded. As the alien characters scrolled across the LCD screen a real-time translation appeared on the tricorder read-out. Torres grinned and began reading file headers. Several looked quite intriguing…

The strike team found themselves in a large airlock. Closing the door behind themselves to minimize the radiation exposure, they began checking the room. At the far end was another hatch identical to the one they’d just come through. In the corner someone had jury-rigged a shower, possibly to sluice off any radioactive particles that might be transported in by anyone coming from the surface. Dolph had brought environment suits for the missing crewmembers in his pack and he dumped them onto the airlock floor to lighten his load. Margie checked the handle of the other door.

“It’s open, Sarge,” she said laconically. C’mell looked a bit disappointed at this pronouncement and Mitchell couldn’t help but grin.

“Ok,” Mitchell said, “We don’t want any friendly fire incidents so set all weapons on stun. Assume that if its not wearing a Starfleet uniform we need to bring it down but try to minimize the bloodshed, okay?” There were nods all around. “Hanauer, you’re point. C’mell, watch our asses and remember we are effectively underground so be careful with that Klingon boomstick, alright? I don’t want a cave-in complicating matters.” C’mell wrinkled her nose at him but bobbed her head in acknowledgement. “Margie, pop the door and then fall in behind Hanauer. Dolph, you’re on my six. Let’s go earn our dough, people.” The strike team headed into the complex.

Nog was still muttering happily to himself as Torres poked around in the old computer. He’d found some fascinating background information on the Dresga that seemed to corroborate the things Treea had told them. Suddenly, a new icon appeared on the LCD screen. Glancing down at his tricorder, Torres’s eyes grew very wide. “Remote Link Established” scrolled across the read-out. Curious, he tripped the connection. When he realized what he’d hooked into he let out a low whistle and began downloading to his tricorder as fast as the device could handle it. Captain Sanjay was going to want to see what he’d found. Suddenly, Nog pulled his head out of the old probe.

“Did you just hear phaser fire?” he asked. Torres tore his eyes away from the screen.

“Hmm? No, I can’t say I did,” he replied.

“I’d swear I heard phasers,” Nog said. Just then both of their combadges chirped.

“Mitchell to away team, please come in.”

“Oh, splendid,” Torres commented, smiling. “I was starting to think they’d forgotten about us.” He tapped his badge, “Torres here.”

Carol had peeled the back off of her combadge and was attempting to wire it into the solid-state antenna Treea had brought them to. Shandahat was conversing quietly with Treea while she worked. Suddenly, an intercom on the wall buzzed. Treea walked over and keyed it. A frantic-sounding voice began speaking to her. Shandahat tried to eavesdrop but he couldn’t get close enough without being too obvious. Carol chose this moment to finish up her work.

“That should do it,” she said. “I’ll try to contact the Seleya now.” Shandahat’s combadge chirped.

“Mitchell to away team, please come in.”

Treea turned back to the two Starfleet officers. “We are under attack by an unknown group of beings. We need to get out of here. If you’ll come with me to the hangar-“ Shandahat cut her off.

“I think I know who the attackers are, Treea. My boss is trying to contact us. Since I could hear him, he must be inside the shielding.” Treea stared at him with obvious surprise for a moment.

“Well, could you please ask him to stop shooting my people? “

Shandahat grinned at her. “I’d be happy to,” he said. Tapping his badge, he said, ” Shandahat here. Hey, Sarge, um, could you maybe stop shooting our friends?”

Mitchell’s voice came back. “Roger that. Standing down. Maybe you could ask your friends to stop shooting back?” Even as he said this Treea was issuing orders over the intercom. M’Benga began undoing her previous work. It looked like they’d be talking to Captain Sanjay in person very soon. She grimaced at the thought of how he’d react to what she had to tell him.

END FIRST PIECE OF PART NINE
 
Nothing like a small misunderstanding using some really big guns. Well fortunately for everyone involved they managed to get things straight before anybody (important) got hurt.

I was a bit thrown off in this part by your seamless change of perspective and location. A divider or an extra space between paragraphs may help remove that confusion.
 
yeah, I see what you mean. I actually got cut short by a dental appt.-posted what I had hastily. I'll try to give it more effort next section. Things are coming to a head...
 
PART NINE cont.

The Away team took their leave of Treea and accompanied Mitchell and the strike team back to the Asimov. Upon their return to the ship Sanjay called an immediate debriefing. It was a long process and brought certain facts to light that set Sanjay’s teeth on edge, particularly the information Torres had downloaded from the uplink he’d found. After dismissing the crew he spent some hours in consultation with Admiral Janeway discussing the best way to handle the situation in light of the new information Seleya had acquired. When he was finished he called Commander M’Benga into his ready room.

“Take a seat, Commander,” he said as she entered. “Coffee?” he offered. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of the strong Turkish blend the Captain favored.

“Ah, thank you, no, sir.” She sat in the chair across from his desk as he got himself another cup to drink. She waited patiently as Sanjay reseated himself and inhaled the aroma of his drink. After taking a sip he said,

“I’ve spoken with the Admiral. She’s bringing this matter up before the Federation Council even as we speak. We should receive instructions fairly shortly.”

“Do you have any idea what they’ll want us to do about this mess, sir?” M’Benga asked.

“The Admiral is proposing FCC intervention, pending the Council’s approval,” Sanjay replied. “I can’t say that I see any other way out of it, myself.”

M’Benga pursed her lips. “If they do bring in the FCC will it go on our records?”

Sanjay shook his head. “No, we weren’t the cause of the problem. Anyone that they might want to point a finger at is long dead. Nevertheless, the Federation is responsible, in a way, for the Prime Directive violation on this planet and the Admiral assures me something will be done. We spoke about it at great lengths.” He sighed. “You now, Commander, this is the kind of situation that gives captains prematurely grey hair. When you get your own command I hope you dodge this particular bullet. Prime Directive issues are the worst, in my opinion. I’d almost rather have a temporal paradox to deal with. Almost.” He grinned wryly at her. “At least the final decision is being made by those above me. You and I won’t have to worry about the ramifications. We’ll just have to expedite whatever the Council decides. I’m fairly certain that, based on my talk with Admiral Janeway, whatever the solution is, it will be fairly straight forward. Then we can get back to the simple things in life, like fighting Jem H’adar, thwarting Romulan plots and even exploring a new bit of the galaxy.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I’ll call you when the Council’s decision comes through. In the meantime, if First Councilor Bela calls, put him off. I don’t want to give him any information until I hear back from the Admiral.” Commander M’Benga took this for the dismissal it was and headed back for the Bridge.

The Council had apparently decided the Mii situation was a high priority, a viewpoint that Admiral Janeway had probably encouraged, thought Sanjay. Their response arrived only a few hours after his chat with Commander M’Benga. As the Admiral gave him his orders his eyes widened a bit but upon reflection he agreed that the Council’s prescribed course of action was probably for the best. After signing off with Janeway, Sanjay made his way to the Bridge. The primary command crewmembers were all at their posts and they turned to look at him as he entered.

“Mister Nog, please open a channel to Acting First Councilor Bela,” he ordered. Pasting a patently false smile on his face, he stood before the giant viewscreen and waited for the transmission to begin. In a moment the view of the Mii was replaced with the face of Councilor Bela.

“Ah, Captain Sanjay, I’ve been awaiting your call,” he said.

“Hello, Mr. Bela,” Sanjay began. Bela frowned at his mode of address. “You’ll be happy to hear that we recovered our missing crewmembers.” Sanjay kept the artificial smile securely in place.

Bela smiled back at him. “And the First Councilor and Lead Citizen Juluth? Were you able to rescue them as well?”

Now Sanjay’s smile became genuine and, if the Miik had more experience reading human expressions, he would have realized it was more than a little feral. “No, I’m afraid not. You see, the Federation has a rule which proscribes us from interfering in the internal operations of a given society’s legitimate government. Since those two persons are being held by the real Mii government pending a war crimes trial I didn’t think it was within my authority to free them.” Bela looked disconcerted by the heavy emphasis Sanjay put on the words “legitimate” and “real”. He began to sputter.

“But, but we are the legitimate-“ Sanjay cut him off.

“Save it!” The smile was gone from his face, now, replaced by a cold fury. “We know all about what’s been happening here and on Varek! You Dresga people have a lot to answer for. I am fully conversant with the Dresga’s actions and plans and frankly, Mr. Bela,” his voice was low and cold now, “You and yours disgust me.” Bela opened and closed his mouth repeatedly but nothing came out. Sanjay continued, ”Now, let me tell you what we know so there are no misunderstandings.” Onscreen, Bela could be seen to slump into a nearby chair. “The Dresga used advanced Federation technology that they stumbled across to infiltrate the normal societies on Mii and Varek. Then, when opposed by the legitimate governments, you waged genocidal attacks on both planets but not before looting as many objects d’art as you could get your slimy hands on. When you realized the remaining authorities on Mii had sent a distress call to the Federation you concocted a plan to impersonate the legitimate leadership of the Regime so you could try to con us into sending you transport vessels to take the Dresga and your stolen loot to a new planet. Along the way you intended to overpower the Starfleet crews and steal the more advanced ships. Then you were going to hunt around for other pre-warp civilizations so you could pull pretty much the same scam on them as well. Did I sum that up well enough? Please,” he added sarcastically, “Let me know if I missed anything.”

“How, how, how,” Bela gabbled.

“We made contact with the remains of the Regime down on the planet and got the whole story.” When Bela opened his mouth Sanjay held up a hand to forestall him. “And before you start calling Treea and her folks liars there’s something else you should know. One of my officers managed to tap into the computers you have there on Tylum using an old Dresga interface on the surface and he downloaded the records containing all of your plans.” A look of sudden understanding crossed Bela’s face.

“So that’s where-“ and he severed the link.

Sanjay turned towards M’Benga. “I expect we’ll get some kind of reaction in just a moment,” he said off-handedly. They didn’t have long to wait.

“Captain!” Sergeant Mitchell said, “I have multiple missles launching from the lunar surface!” Sanjay grinned crookedly.

“See what I mean?” he asked M’Benga. Then, “Ensign Perling, can you tell me where they are headed?”

Louis consulted his read-outs for a moment. “They seem to be targeting the complex on the surface, sir.”

“Sergeant, please take them out before they hit the atmosphere. That planet has suffered enough.” Sanjay crossed his arms patiently.

“Aye, sir,” Mitchell replied. Beams of light sprang from the Seleya’s saucer section and the missiles detonated harmlessly in space.

“Very good, Sergeant. Now,” Sanjay added savagely, “Find the launchers they came from and burn them where they sit! I don’t want those ‘people’ to be able to throw a rock when you’re finished!” Mitchell complied with alacrity and the face of Tylum soon showed little pinpoints of red where the phaser strikes had hit.

“All launchers destroyed, Captain,” Mitchell reported.

“Very good, Sergeant.” Sanjay looked at Nog. “Mr. Nog, please reopen the channel with Tylum base.”

“Channel re-established, Captain.” Bela’s image was back on the screen. Sanjay didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“Now that that unpleasantness is over its time for you to hear what the Federation Council has decided to do about you and your Dresga.” Bela opened his mouth but Sanjay cut him off. “Don’t speak, Mr. Bela, just listen.” The Miik visibly deflated and shut his mouth. He had a resigned look on his face. “The Council has decided that the cultures of Mii and Varek have been interfered with by the Federation, however inadvertent that interference may have been, in direct violation of Starfleet General Order Number One. They are sending members of the Federation Contamination Corp, the FCC as we call them, to try to undo as much of the damage here as possible. Just so there isn’t any misunderstanding, my superiors are also dispatching a task force of eight ships to oversee the procedures. The lead ship is the USS Yamato, a Galaxy-class starship, so if you had any plans to oppose the FCC’s actions you might want to keep something in mind. The Seleya has a crew of about four hundred. The Yamato has about one thousand and its firepower is equally more impressive.” Sanjay grinned as Bela turned noticeably pale. “You’ll be happy to know we are going to help get the people in your little fleet to their destination.” When Bela started to perk up Sanjay shot him back down. “However, before we do that we will be stripping out all of the non-essential items you have so thoughtfully packed aboard your ships. You know, like the precious metals, statues, paintings and other items that are completely unnecessary for a new colony to get started. Those we’ll return to the rightful governments of the Regime and the Unified State. We’ll then tow your ships at high warp to the planet you had suggested originally. And the Council has decided that since you only gained warp technology from the Federation probe you found, once your ships are in orbit over your new home the FCC will be confiscating all of your warp coils.” Bela looked both shocked and horrified.

“But we’ll be stranded there! You can’t take our coils away!” he exclaimed.

Sanjay’s return grin bordered on evil. “Oh, that’s not completely true,” he said, “If you work hard to establish your new colony your infrastructure should be built up enough to replace the coils in, say, a couple of generations or so. The Dresga can use the time in between to reflect on the horrors you’ve inflicted on the people of Mii and Varek.”

Bela was completely morose now. “What about the non-Dresga? He asked.

“Not that it’s any of your concern,” Sanjay coldly replied, “But the Federation Council will be giving them humanitarian aid in the short term. In the long term, our terraforming experts will help them fix the ecosystems you shattered.” He paused for a moment. “And, Mr. Bela? We are currently tracking your fleet where it’s at in orbit around the seventh planet. If any of your ships power up their warp coils, if any of them even try to move out of their current positions, I will personally use our matter transporters to remove every molecule of oxygen they have onboard. Do we understand each other?” Sanjay asked sweetly.

Bela only nodded, unable to speak. Sanjay signaled to Nog to cut the circuit. As the tension drained from his body he made his way back to his chair and sat down. He stroked his beard, looking thoughtfully at the image of the devastated planet beneath the ship. Commander M’Benga jarred him out of his reverie.

“So what are our orders, sir?” she asked.

“Starfleet wants us to wait here and keep a lid on things until the FCC fleet arrives. Then we are going to the Beta Canaris system. It seems a Tarkalian freighter in the area detected what could be a weak warp field coming from the inner planets.” His eyes twinkled as Carol became noticeably excited.

“A possible First Contact? That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” Sanjay agreed, “It will be good to wash the muck of our current assignment off and get back to what we do best-explore new worlds. And we’ll do it carefully and by the book.” He looked back at the screen. “I swear, I will never let something like this happen on my watch!” Carol could only nod in agreement.

END
 
The FCC, huh? I wonder if they'll remove their broadcasting rights too ... :lol:

Seriously though, good job on Frail Blood!

I liked this story even though at times it didn't quite look like you knew exactly where you wanted to go with it, I still say it worked out quite well in the end.

The overall concept was most impressive. The idea that a segment of the population uses accidently discovered, advanced Federation technology to dominate over the majority is both scary and quite believable.

I do think you could have done a bit more with your strike team. They were a great bunch of people and you build them up real nice but in the end their actions didn't appear to make a significant difference.

The decision of the Federation council was quite drastic and one could debate if they are not going to make things worse by such a blatant involvement in their cultures affairs. But I suppose something needs to be done, seeing that the Federation was responsible in some way. It would be interesting to revist these people in the future to find out what has happened to them.

Most importantly I like your crew and quite curious to see their next adventure.
 
Good job here. you do a good job with characterization, my only real complaint is that it seems that you rushed the ending a bit. Let the story flow organically--like Ernest and Julio Gallo's wines, let it be done in its time--don't try to force it to a conclusion it's not ready for yet. Still, nicely done!
 
DF-thank you and you are right-I have had story 3 in my head banging to get out-I honestly just wanted this one DONE! If a little rushed-sorry. I actually could add about 60 more pages to it and may in the future-after all, we never saw Varek.

Cejay-thank you-strike team was "warm-up"-we will see them in "Corkscrewed" in detail-they have a major bit to play(I haven't even played with the 'tessames' yet)-how'd you like the FCC idea? Someone has to clean up after Jim Kirk and Co.-I figure after a few hundred years mistakes get made and the Feds are too organized NOT to have a bureau, office or group dedicated to cleaning up the messes.
 
Bravo! A great story with a strong ending! Sanjay shows that he's got some steel behind his normally pleasant demeanor.

And I can't blame M'Benga for declining the Turkish coffee. I find that it has the same effect as licking hot asphalt.

Is the Yamato an homage to the original Galaxy-class ship destroyed in a TNG episode?
 
Thanks TLR! I ended it the way I did, well, see above response. And, yes, Its the replacement ship. But who wanders around saying "Yamato-B"? Since there's only one its the Yamato. Probably built during or just prior to the war during the general Starfleet build-up. Thanks for reading it-looks like almost no one has even noticed I added to it, little less ended it.
 
If you are not already a member then please register an account and join in the discussion!

Sign up / Register


Back
Top