The rewrite is coming along nicely here as the story begins to unfold. Looking forward to more.
USS PYTHEAS (Dauntless Repost)
- Thread starter BrotherBenny
- Start date
This keeps getting more complex and interesting. A continuously deepening mystery compounded by competing priorities and loyalties on the parts of the various players. It appears that the interstellar-politics of the Kursican Sector will only make matters even more dicey for Astar and her crew.
Chapter Twelve
USS Pytheas
In orbit of New Tokyo
Stardate 55255.9 (April 4, 2378)
Astar narrowed her eyes in thought. ‘Commander Logan has ordered us to maintain subspace radio silence, but I think we may still need to communicate. If you do need me in an emergency, just use the codeword “ice cream” and your coordinates, scrambled of course.’
‘Isn’t that defying orders?’
‘Yes it is, but we’re the only two ships out here and this is shaping up to be a dangerous sector.’
‘Aye sir,’ Dhrex replied, still unsure, but he trusted Astar for some reason that he couldn’t quantify.
‘We’ll take over here, I’m sure the other colonies need the supplies that we’re transferring to you.’
‘Yes sir, I will be glad to get back on our patrol route, this colony doesn’t have much to offer the crew in the way of distractions, and this ship has become a little too small while we’ve just been sitting here.’
Astar nodded. ‘I felt like that on my first mission as an exec. Command can be tedious at times, but we still have a job to do, even if it just to administrate what goes on aboard the ships we serve on.’
Dhrex smiled. ‘Optimism, I should remember that I guess.’
‘If you’ll excuse me, Commander, I have a crew to order about. Is there anything I should know about the people down there that isn’t in the database?’
‘I’ll send my logs over, sir. That should give you all you need to know.’
‘Thank you, Commander.’
They shook hands and Dhrex returned to his ship, taking Marshall with him for reasons unknown while Astar headed out of sickbay and toward the turbolift for the bridge. She knew that Maxx was probably setting up one of the ship’s science labs for the work so he wasn’t going to be sickbay unless he was needed, meaning that the head nurse, Lieutenant Jazen-Arja would be taking any injuries that were reported. He refused to take the exam to be a full doctor though his file implied that he was eminently capable of such a position, and she assumed that he was probably content in his current role.
‘Astar to Lieutenant Jazen-Arja,’ she tapped her combadge once she had ordered the turbolift to take her to the bridge.
‘Jazen-Arja here, Captain; is there something I can do for you?’
‘Lieutenant Maxx will be occupied for the next few hours; can you take over sickbay in the meantime?’
‘The doctor already asked if I would, Captain. I am on my way as we speak.’
Astar smiled, ‘very well, Astar out.’
She emerged from the turbolift a few moments later and walked down the steps to the central section before stopping in her tracks. She looked behind her and saw that the young woman standing with her new tactical officer was the cadet she had shared her flyer ride with.
‘Cadet Snowcroft?’
‘Yes sir?’
‘I thought you were assigned to Starbase 535?’
‘No sir, I was assigned to the Pytheas by Admiral Janeway. I was supposed to leave Earth before you but I was delayed by a family issue.’
‘I see, well I’ll see that you’re given a more exciting assignment next time, carry on.’
‘Aye sir,’ Snowcroft replied as Astar sat down.
‘Ensign Larson, how do the conn capabilities of this vessel differ from those of other Intrepid-class starships?'
The young Ensign turned and grinned. 'Other than a stable cruising velocity of warp 9.982, which is seven thousandths of a warp factor higher, our impulse engines are capable of speeds exceeding those of all other vessels, including the Sovereign-class.'
'That's good to know,' the captain replied, letting out a little chuckle.
'Wright to Astar.'
'Go ahead, Commander.'
'The transfer is complete, sir. The Weisskopf is ready to depart.'
'Acknowledged. Return to the bridge, Commander.'
'Aye sir, Wright out.'
While Astar waited for her exec to return, she considered speaking with the colony's governor about the assistance he had been providing Commander Dhrex's team. She skimmed through the logs and noted that the man was belligerent and believed that the Federation existed only to further its own interests, hence the reason his colony asked to be left alone entirely. They did not even want Federation or Starfleet assistance or protection and had only a single shuttle which had been purchased from Starfleet with gold-pressed latinum prior to the colony's launch from Starbase Mojave eighteen months ago.
The turbolift doors opened and Wright emerged, the expression on his face not quite schooled perfectly enough. He smiled at Astar as he took his seat and she leaned over.
'Problem, Commander?'
'The Weisskopf's cargo chief is a moron, sir.
'How so?'
'He insisted that every container was loaded by size and weight and made his people move it around several times, making the process ten times harder than it needed to be.'
She sighed. 'How did you solve the problem?'
'I threatened to shoot him.'
Astar glared at him. 'We're not the Maquis, Commander. That's not how we do things.'
Wright shot her a crooked grin. 'I wasn't really going to shoot him. I just wanted to motivate him a little. He thinks I'm a killer, so it motivated him.'
She sighed again and knew that he was going to be all kinds of trouble. 'I'm giving you an order here and now, Commander. I do not want you using those tactics for motivation, or anything else. Is that understood?'
'Yes ma'am,' he answered softly.
'Good, now how's about you tell me what we're supposed to do up here while Maxx runs his scans.'
'I could run a combat drill?'
'Not yet, I need the crew ready for anything and the last thing we want is trouble erupting while we're out of place.'
'That's the best time if you ask me.'
'I didn't, but thank you for your input,' Astar replied.
USS Pytheas
In orbit of New Tokyo
Stardate 55255.9 (April 4, 2378)
Astar narrowed her eyes in thought. ‘Commander Logan has ordered us to maintain subspace radio silence, but I think we may still need to communicate. If you do need me in an emergency, just use the codeword “ice cream” and your coordinates, scrambled of course.’
‘Isn’t that defying orders?’
‘Yes it is, but we’re the only two ships out here and this is shaping up to be a dangerous sector.’
‘Aye sir,’ Dhrex replied, still unsure, but he trusted Astar for some reason that he couldn’t quantify.
‘We’ll take over here, I’m sure the other colonies need the supplies that we’re transferring to you.’
‘Yes sir, I will be glad to get back on our patrol route, this colony doesn’t have much to offer the crew in the way of distractions, and this ship has become a little too small while we’ve just been sitting here.’
Astar nodded. ‘I felt like that on my first mission as an exec. Command can be tedious at times, but we still have a job to do, even if it just to administrate what goes on aboard the ships we serve on.’
Dhrex smiled. ‘Optimism, I should remember that I guess.’
‘If you’ll excuse me, Commander, I have a crew to order about. Is there anything I should know about the people down there that isn’t in the database?’
‘I’ll send my logs over, sir. That should give you all you need to know.’
‘Thank you, Commander.’
They shook hands and Dhrex returned to his ship, taking Marshall with him for reasons unknown while Astar headed out of sickbay and toward the turbolift for the bridge. She knew that Maxx was probably setting up one of the ship’s science labs for the work so he wasn’t going to be sickbay unless he was needed, meaning that the head nurse, Lieutenant Jazen-Arja would be taking any injuries that were reported. He refused to take the exam to be a full doctor though his file implied that he was eminently capable of such a position, and she assumed that he was probably content in his current role.
‘Astar to Lieutenant Jazen-Arja,’ she tapped her combadge once she had ordered the turbolift to take her to the bridge.
‘Jazen-Arja here, Captain; is there something I can do for you?’
‘Lieutenant Maxx will be occupied for the next few hours; can you take over sickbay in the meantime?’
‘The doctor already asked if I would, Captain. I am on my way as we speak.’
Astar smiled, ‘very well, Astar out.’
She emerged from the turbolift a few moments later and walked down the steps to the central section before stopping in her tracks. She looked behind her and saw that the young woman standing with her new tactical officer was the cadet she had shared her flyer ride with.
‘Cadet Snowcroft?’
‘Yes sir?’
‘I thought you were assigned to Starbase 535?’
‘No sir, I was assigned to the Pytheas by Admiral Janeway. I was supposed to leave Earth before you but I was delayed by a family issue.’
‘I see, well I’ll see that you’re given a more exciting assignment next time, carry on.’
‘Aye sir,’ Snowcroft replied as Astar sat down.
‘Ensign Larson, how do the conn capabilities of this vessel differ from those of other Intrepid-class starships?'
The young Ensign turned and grinned. 'Other than a stable cruising velocity of warp 9.982, which is seven thousandths of a warp factor higher, our impulse engines are capable of speeds exceeding those of all other vessels, including the Sovereign-class.'
'That's good to know,' the captain replied, letting out a little chuckle.
'Wright to Astar.'
'Go ahead, Commander.'
'The transfer is complete, sir. The Weisskopf is ready to depart.'
'Acknowledged. Return to the bridge, Commander.'
'Aye sir, Wright out.'
While Astar waited for her exec to return, she considered speaking with the colony's governor about the assistance he had been providing Commander Dhrex's team. She skimmed through the logs and noted that the man was belligerent and believed that the Federation existed only to further its own interests, hence the reason his colony asked to be left alone entirely. They did not even want Federation or Starfleet assistance or protection and had only a single shuttle which had been purchased from Starfleet with gold-pressed latinum prior to the colony's launch from Starbase Mojave eighteen months ago.
The turbolift doors opened and Wright emerged, the expression on his face not quite schooled perfectly enough. He smiled at Astar as he took his seat and she leaned over.
'Problem, Commander?'
'The Weisskopf's cargo chief is a moron, sir.
'How so?'
'He insisted that every container was loaded by size and weight and made his people move it around several times, making the process ten times harder than it needed to be.'
She sighed. 'How did you solve the problem?'
'I threatened to shoot him.'
Astar glared at him. 'We're not the Maquis, Commander. That's not how we do things.'
Wright shot her a crooked grin. 'I wasn't really going to shoot him. I just wanted to motivate him a little. He thinks I'm a killer, so it motivated him.'
She sighed again and knew that he was going to be all kinds of trouble. 'I'm giving you an order here and now, Commander. I do not want you using those tactics for motivation, or anything else. Is that understood?'
'Yes ma'am,' he answered softly.
'Good, now how's about you tell me what we're supposed to do up here while Maxx runs his scans.'
'I could run a combat drill?'
'Not yet, I need the crew ready for anything and the last thing we want is trouble erupting while we're out of place.'
'That's the best time if you ask me.'
'I didn't, but thank you for your input,' Astar replied.
Chapter Thirteen
Starbase 535
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55259.1 (April 5, 2378)
Commander Lionel Logan squirmed under the gaze of Admiral Andrew Ranar. He had never met the man in person and never wanted to. The Head of the Long-range Threat Assessment and Response Division was a gruff, uncompromising bastard with no clue about the real world, and now he was the lead man in this kidnapping, although on the face of it there didn't seem to be any reason for him to be getting involved.
‘Admiral, with all due respect, there is nothing remotely connected with a long-range threat here. Why are you involved?’ He knew he was skirting around insubordination but he wanted answers.
‘It doesn’t matter why I’m involved, suffice it to say that I am,’ Ranar replied huffily.
‘That’s not good enough, sir. I have two science ships out here running around looking for an alien ship or ships abducting Federation citizens and you tell me to halt the search so you can find some more alien DNA? This seems to be exactly what the problem with Operation Vanguard a hundred years ago, and look what happened there.’
‘That was different, Commander. The Taurus Metagenome paved the way for advances in medicine that would have taken generations otherwise.’ Ranar was silent for a moment.
'Admiral, I won't be able to do my job properly if I don't know the true nature of this mission. And lest you forget, sir, my security clearance is almost as high as yours due to a few tricks I was forced to perform during the war.'
Ranar let out a loud puff of air. ‘What I’m about to tell you, Commander, is classified at the highest levels.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Ten years ago, we got reports of an alien incursion that would destroy the Federation and the rest of the galaxy about six hundred years from now. Needless to say it was met with some scepticism until other information came to light. The informant was knowledgeable about the war with the Dominion that hadn’t even happened yet.’
‘Why didn’t we try to stop it then?’
‘Because it would have violated the Temporal Prime Directive. And we were under specific orders not to violate the Archer Protocols.’
Logan sighed as the statement sunk in. Those protocols were in place for temporal issues of the highest order. ‘So the aliens which are taking our people are doing so for what reason?’
‘Based on the informant’s information we believe that the first stages of the invasion was made by creating a disease coded genetically to different species. Genocide on a scale never before seen. My mission, and yours too, is to make sure that particular history does not repeat itself. If we can stop them annihilating the populations of dozens of worlds we’ll be able to slow their invasion considerably.’
‘But this biowarfare of theirs is only the first wave.’
‘Exactly, and we’ll be moving on to the second wave once this threat has been dealt with.’
Logan nodded. ‘Can I divulge this information to Commander Dhrex and Captain Astar?’
‘Not under any circumstances. Since you brought up Operation Vanguard, you’ll know what happened when Commodore Reyes violated his oath of secrecy. The current political make-up is even more hostile than it was then so soon after the war.’
‘Aye sir, I won’t say anything.’
‘See that you don’t, because I won’t hesitate to end your career. It won’t matter in the long run but it will make me feel better about the headaches I will surely get from the fallout. This must be kept under tight wraps.’
‘In that case, I have to tell you about Captain Drummond’s mental state, something that isn't in the official report.’
‘Go on.’ Logan did so and Ranar sighed. ‘I’ll pass this along the chain of command and see what happens. I don’t imagine they’ll be too pleased. They might even contact our informant for more information, if she’s still willing to share after what she’s been through.’
‘I think you’re telling me more than I need to know, Admiral.’
The admiral nodded. ‘Ranar out.’
The screen darkened and Logan stood up to stretch his legs. It would seem that the entrance of the Kursicans into the Federation really was a cover. He had no doubt that they would enter the Federation at some point in the near future, possibly a few years down the line, but right now his main concern was getting the two ships he had at his disposal to work on their mission without knowing it. From what Dhrex had told him, he was fairly sure that it was happening anyway and all he needed to do was keep an eye on it. He stepped out of his office to find someone waiting for him. Aulyffke was the former Regent of the toad-like pumpkin-orange Kursicans and his ground-glass voice was just as annoying as ever. Since his Chief Magistrate, Juhstraffe, had overthrown him in a bloodless coup, he had been public enemy number one and numerous attempts had been made on his life so Starfleet had assigned him as Logan’s number two aboard the Plat.
‘Aulyffke, what can I do for you?’
‘Regent Juhstraffe asked if he could meet with you this afternoon regarding the trade embargo to Szylith.’
Logan sighed, he’d known this was coming up. ‘I should have some free time after lunch; just make sure that he only brings two security guards and not his entire entourage.’
‘I’ll see to it, Commander.’
Juhstraffe had reversed most of Aulyffke’s taxation strategies and then proposed a referendum for Federation membership after a campaign that extolled some of the organisation’s virtues, though certainly not all of them. It was just one of the items on the agenda that Logan was trying—in vain—to get Juhstraffe to understand. His Regency was progressing in a friendlier manner than Aulyffke’s had, to the point of him being re-elected in a democratic vote, but he was still as recalcitrant as the latter was.
Starbase 535
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55259.1 (April 5, 2378)
Commander Lionel Logan squirmed under the gaze of Admiral Andrew Ranar. He had never met the man in person and never wanted to. The Head of the Long-range Threat Assessment and Response Division was a gruff, uncompromising bastard with no clue about the real world, and now he was the lead man in this kidnapping, although on the face of it there didn't seem to be any reason for him to be getting involved.
‘Admiral, with all due respect, there is nothing remotely connected with a long-range threat here. Why are you involved?’ He knew he was skirting around insubordination but he wanted answers.
‘It doesn’t matter why I’m involved, suffice it to say that I am,’ Ranar replied huffily.
‘That’s not good enough, sir. I have two science ships out here running around looking for an alien ship or ships abducting Federation citizens and you tell me to halt the search so you can find some more alien DNA? This seems to be exactly what the problem with Operation Vanguard a hundred years ago, and look what happened there.’
‘That was different, Commander. The Taurus Metagenome paved the way for advances in medicine that would have taken generations otherwise.’ Ranar was silent for a moment.
'Admiral, I won't be able to do my job properly if I don't know the true nature of this mission. And lest you forget, sir, my security clearance is almost as high as yours due to a few tricks I was forced to perform during the war.'
Ranar let out a loud puff of air. ‘What I’m about to tell you, Commander, is classified at the highest levels.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Ten years ago, we got reports of an alien incursion that would destroy the Federation and the rest of the galaxy about six hundred years from now. Needless to say it was met with some scepticism until other information came to light. The informant was knowledgeable about the war with the Dominion that hadn’t even happened yet.’
‘Why didn’t we try to stop it then?’
‘Because it would have violated the Temporal Prime Directive. And we were under specific orders not to violate the Archer Protocols.’
Logan sighed as the statement sunk in. Those protocols were in place for temporal issues of the highest order. ‘So the aliens which are taking our people are doing so for what reason?’
‘Based on the informant’s information we believe that the first stages of the invasion was made by creating a disease coded genetically to different species. Genocide on a scale never before seen. My mission, and yours too, is to make sure that particular history does not repeat itself. If we can stop them annihilating the populations of dozens of worlds we’ll be able to slow their invasion considerably.’
‘But this biowarfare of theirs is only the first wave.’
‘Exactly, and we’ll be moving on to the second wave once this threat has been dealt with.’
Logan nodded. ‘Can I divulge this information to Commander Dhrex and Captain Astar?’
‘Not under any circumstances. Since you brought up Operation Vanguard, you’ll know what happened when Commodore Reyes violated his oath of secrecy. The current political make-up is even more hostile than it was then so soon after the war.’
‘Aye sir, I won’t say anything.’
‘See that you don’t, because I won’t hesitate to end your career. It won’t matter in the long run but it will make me feel better about the headaches I will surely get from the fallout. This must be kept under tight wraps.’
‘In that case, I have to tell you about Captain Drummond’s mental state, something that isn't in the official report.’
‘Go on.’ Logan did so and Ranar sighed. ‘I’ll pass this along the chain of command and see what happens. I don’t imagine they’ll be too pleased. They might even contact our informant for more information, if she’s still willing to share after what she’s been through.’
‘I think you’re telling me more than I need to know, Admiral.’
The admiral nodded. ‘Ranar out.’
The screen darkened and Logan stood up to stretch his legs. It would seem that the entrance of the Kursicans into the Federation really was a cover. He had no doubt that they would enter the Federation at some point in the near future, possibly a few years down the line, but right now his main concern was getting the two ships he had at his disposal to work on their mission without knowing it. From what Dhrex had told him, he was fairly sure that it was happening anyway and all he needed to do was keep an eye on it. He stepped out of his office to find someone waiting for him. Aulyffke was the former Regent of the toad-like pumpkin-orange Kursicans and his ground-glass voice was just as annoying as ever. Since his Chief Magistrate, Juhstraffe, had overthrown him in a bloodless coup, he had been public enemy number one and numerous attempts had been made on his life so Starfleet had assigned him as Logan’s number two aboard the Plat.
‘Aulyffke, what can I do for you?’
‘Regent Juhstraffe asked if he could meet with you this afternoon regarding the trade embargo to Szylith.’
Logan sighed, he’d known this was coming up. ‘I should have some free time after lunch; just make sure that he only brings two security guards and not his entire entourage.’
‘I’ll see to it, Commander.’
Juhstraffe had reversed most of Aulyffke’s taxation strategies and then proposed a referendum for Federation membership after a campaign that extolled some of the organisation’s virtues, though certainly not all of them. It was just one of the items on the agenda that Logan was trying—in vain—to get Juhstraffe to understand. His Regency was progressing in a friendlier manner than Aulyffke’s had, to the point of him being re-elected in a democratic vote, but he was still as recalcitrant as the latter was.
Chapter Fourteen
Ynelavii Battlecruiser Oxelus
Ynelav IV
Stardate 55260.2 (April 5, 2378)
The ship had reached the Gethsemane system and found debris consistent with the wreckage of four Resoto vessels, including the flagship. There were only a handful of escape pods and High Lord Yannik was not among the Resoto survivors. General Allak had them all placed in guest quarters aboard the cruiser with security guards after First Prime Gexin had questioned them about what had happened. Most of the survivors had been on the bridge at the time and remembered the events quite clearly. The Resoto had already staked out the Gethsemane system and were waiting for the Ynelavii ship to show up and destroy it, but something hit them even though there were no ships on the scanners.
Yannik had ordered his weapons officer to fire in the direction the blast came from but a volley of energy pulses shredded the shields and the ship was destroyed minutes later. They all believed Yannik escaped in his personal shuttle but it was found as part of the wreckage, which Allak had not mentioned to the survivors. The First Prime had agreed and the Oxelus had returned to Ynelav to await a Resoto transport vessel so the survivors could be returned to their homeworld. In the meantime, the First Prime had returned to the surface to continue conducting her affairs and General Allak had assigned his best man to be her personal bodyguard, Colonel Rokan. Colonel Ferok was now his executive officer aboard the ship and pacing like a caged animal.
‘Is there a problem, Colonel?’
‘I don’t like waiting around, General. I prefer to be active.’
Allak agreed with the sentiment. ‘I don’t like the waiting game either, Colonel. But until we know what we’re facing we can’t fire blindly. The Resoto vessels are more than a match for ours and whatever destroyed them is far more powerful than we are. I don’t intend to lose our ships so quickly, so we need more information.’
Ferok nodded. ‘Perhaps the Federation know something?’
‘An interesting idea, those traders we come across might have a way of contacting them, the First Prime might also have a way of doing so, I shall ask her when she returns to the ship.’
‘General, we are receiving a message from the Yeolus,’ the tactical officer, Major Beqan, reported. ‘They have found an unusual energy signature at the edge of the system and are requesting permission to follow the trail.’
‘Colonel, open a channel to the First Prime, priority one.’
‘Is there a problem, General?’
‘The Yeolus has found an alien energy trail and is requesting permission to track it to its source.’
‘Permission denied; I want you to track the trail back to its source, and stay in communications range for as long as possible. I may need you back here in a hurry.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Allak replied.
‘Recall the Yeolus and have them take over your patrol, Gexin out.’
‘We have our orders people, prepare for hyperlight velocity, cycle up the engines and secure all stations.’
‘The Yeolus is returning, sir,’ Beqan added.
‘Excellent, have Colonel Kulou contact me immediately, I will speak with him in private. Route the call to my office.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Ferok, you have the CIC.’
‘Aye sir.’
Allak strolled off the CIC into his office, situated to the port side of the ship. The open signal bleeping confirmed that Colonel Kulou was waiting for him. He hadn’t expected the First Prime to grant him the permission to find the killers of his people, but he was glad she had. For a long time, he had believed that he would remain a bodyguard after a disastrous accident as a fighter pilot. But being granted the position of bodyguard to the First Prime had redeemed him in the eyes of the military and he had been given greater responsibilities, and now he was commanding the most advanced vessel in the Ynelavii military.
Kulou’s face was scarred from the many battles he had won, and a few he had lost, and he was known to be one of the greatest tactical minds alive. His only failing was his political ineptness, otherwise he might well have reached the rank of General and been the commander of all the armed forces. The Yeolus was one of the oldest ships in the fleet and would have become a museum piece if there hadn’t been the constant threat of war between the Ynelavii and the Resoto.
‘General, what are my orders?’
‘You are to patrol the homeworld until further notice. The First Prime has ordered me to track the aliens back to their origins.’
‘And when you find them?’ he asked.
‘We’ll make them pay for what they’ve done, and in doing so unite the peoples of this sector.’
‘Perhaps, but they destroyed the Polius with ease.’
‘The Polius was unprepared, we are not. The Militia Elite will bring vengeance against the killers of our people.’
Kulou nodded. ‘See that you do, General; Kulou out.’
Allak sat at his desk and smiled. Kulou believed in his own superiority and believed, possibly rightly so, that no one was as good as he was. But where Kulou’s talent lay in the planning of tactical engagements, his lay in the execution of them and no matter how well one planned an attack against a foe, there would always be something to foul it up. Allak prided himself on taking the unexpected in his stride and this alien threat was no different, but mastering the threat on this occasion would take some doing. He stepped back into the CIC and took his chair again, relegating his second in command to a standing position.
‘Colonel, are we ready to depart?’
Ferok consulted the readouts and received the nods from the engineer, navigator and helmswoman. ‘Yes, General; the engines are charged and ready.’
‘Then signal our departure to Control, prepare for hyperlight jump.’
The Oxelus was in orbit of Ynelav IV one second and gone the next, without even a flash of light to indicate the amount of energy it had taken. Allak watched the purple-hued space on the monitors and turned to Ferok.
Ynelavii Battlecruiser Oxelus
Ynelav IV
Stardate 55260.2 (April 5, 2378)
The ship had reached the Gethsemane system and found debris consistent with the wreckage of four Resoto vessels, including the flagship. There were only a handful of escape pods and High Lord Yannik was not among the Resoto survivors. General Allak had them all placed in guest quarters aboard the cruiser with security guards after First Prime Gexin had questioned them about what had happened. Most of the survivors had been on the bridge at the time and remembered the events quite clearly. The Resoto had already staked out the Gethsemane system and were waiting for the Ynelavii ship to show up and destroy it, but something hit them even though there were no ships on the scanners.
Yannik had ordered his weapons officer to fire in the direction the blast came from but a volley of energy pulses shredded the shields and the ship was destroyed minutes later. They all believed Yannik escaped in his personal shuttle but it was found as part of the wreckage, which Allak had not mentioned to the survivors. The First Prime had agreed and the Oxelus had returned to Ynelav to await a Resoto transport vessel so the survivors could be returned to their homeworld. In the meantime, the First Prime had returned to the surface to continue conducting her affairs and General Allak had assigned his best man to be her personal bodyguard, Colonel Rokan. Colonel Ferok was now his executive officer aboard the ship and pacing like a caged animal.
‘Is there a problem, Colonel?’
‘I don’t like waiting around, General. I prefer to be active.’
Allak agreed with the sentiment. ‘I don’t like the waiting game either, Colonel. But until we know what we’re facing we can’t fire blindly. The Resoto vessels are more than a match for ours and whatever destroyed them is far more powerful than we are. I don’t intend to lose our ships so quickly, so we need more information.’
Ferok nodded. ‘Perhaps the Federation know something?’
‘An interesting idea, those traders we come across might have a way of contacting them, the First Prime might also have a way of doing so, I shall ask her when she returns to the ship.’
‘General, we are receiving a message from the Yeolus,’ the tactical officer, Major Beqan, reported. ‘They have found an unusual energy signature at the edge of the system and are requesting permission to follow the trail.’
‘Colonel, open a channel to the First Prime, priority one.’
‘Is there a problem, General?’
‘The Yeolus has found an alien energy trail and is requesting permission to track it to its source.’
‘Permission denied; I want you to track the trail back to its source, and stay in communications range for as long as possible. I may need you back here in a hurry.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Allak replied.
‘Recall the Yeolus and have them take over your patrol, Gexin out.’
‘We have our orders people, prepare for hyperlight velocity, cycle up the engines and secure all stations.’
‘The Yeolus is returning, sir,’ Beqan added.
‘Excellent, have Colonel Kulou contact me immediately, I will speak with him in private. Route the call to my office.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Ferok, you have the CIC.’
‘Aye sir.’
Allak strolled off the CIC into his office, situated to the port side of the ship. The open signal bleeping confirmed that Colonel Kulou was waiting for him. He hadn’t expected the First Prime to grant him the permission to find the killers of his people, but he was glad she had. For a long time, he had believed that he would remain a bodyguard after a disastrous accident as a fighter pilot. But being granted the position of bodyguard to the First Prime had redeemed him in the eyes of the military and he had been given greater responsibilities, and now he was commanding the most advanced vessel in the Ynelavii military.
Kulou’s face was scarred from the many battles he had won, and a few he had lost, and he was known to be one of the greatest tactical minds alive. His only failing was his political ineptness, otherwise he might well have reached the rank of General and been the commander of all the armed forces. The Yeolus was one of the oldest ships in the fleet and would have become a museum piece if there hadn’t been the constant threat of war between the Ynelavii and the Resoto.
‘General, what are my orders?’
‘You are to patrol the homeworld until further notice. The First Prime has ordered me to track the aliens back to their origins.’
‘And when you find them?’ he asked.
‘We’ll make them pay for what they’ve done, and in doing so unite the peoples of this sector.’
‘Perhaps, but they destroyed the Polius with ease.’
‘The Polius was unprepared, we are not. The Militia Elite will bring vengeance against the killers of our people.’
Kulou nodded. ‘See that you do, General; Kulou out.’
Allak sat at his desk and smiled. Kulou believed in his own superiority and believed, possibly rightly so, that no one was as good as he was. But where Kulou’s talent lay in the planning of tactical engagements, his lay in the execution of them and no matter how well one planned an attack against a foe, there would always be something to foul it up. Allak prided himself on taking the unexpected in his stride and this alien threat was no different, but mastering the threat on this occasion would take some doing. He stepped back into the CIC and took his chair again, relegating his second in command to a standing position.
‘Colonel, are we ready to depart?’
Ferok consulted the readouts and received the nods from the engineer, navigator and helmswoman. ‘Yes, General; the engines are charged and ready.’
‘Then signal our departure to Control, prepare for hyperlight jump.’
The Oxelus was in orbit of Ynelav IV one second and gone the next, without even a flash of light to indicate the amount of energy it had taken. Allak watched the purple-hued space on the monitors and turned to Ferok.
Chapter Fifteen
Ynelavii Battlecruiser Oxelus
Kursican sector
Stardate 55260.3 (April 6, 2378)
‘General, we should run drills.’
‘Our people know what to do, Ferok. Ready all the fighter squadrons for launch. I want them in formation as soon as we return to normal space.’
‘Aye sir,’ Ferok replied. ‘What do you think we’re going to find?’
‘I don’t think we’re going to find anything, Colonel. I think that this is a wild zxunta chase, but I will follow my orders and track this energy signature back to the ship it originated from. Do the tactical people know what type of energy it is?’
‘Yes sir, they believe it is supercharged particles we call ions making the trail, indicating that the vessel we are tracking is travelling at speeds below the light threshold.’
‘Then we should catch up to it soon. There is however the possibility that we are being lured away from the homeworld.’
‘I thought of that, sir,’ Ferok replied. ‘There are two cruisers waiting behind the second moon in case the aliens do return.’
Allak smiled. ‘You disobeyed a direct order from the First Prime; she ordered all cruisers to be on patrol.’
‘They are on patrol, behind the moon, making sure there are no surprise attacks.’
Allak chuckled, earning strange glances from the CIC crew. ‘You have the tactical prowess of Kulou and the cunning of a politician, do you want my job?’
‘Not yet, sir, but I was planning on it someday.’
‘Perhaps you could be my successor one day.’
Ferok’s answer was cut off by a curse from the tactical station. ‘General, I am picking up debris ahead of us.’
‘Slow to sub-light speed and engage all tactical systems.’
Purple lighting dimmed the CIC as the crew hurried to their tactical stations. The Oxelus slowed and Allak could immediately see that there was no threat. The debris had been a medium-sized vessel, possibly a freighter, and was now nothing more than drifting metal. He saw a flare of something and squinted.
‘General, do you see the flare?’
‘I see it, Colonel, send out the Third Squadron to identify.’
‘Aye sir.’
The doors on the ventral hull opened with a hiss of air and half a dozen small dart-like fighters emerged, immediately forming a V formation and then spread out across the debris field. There was an anxious wait as the fighters picked though the debris, but all of a sudden one of them used a grappler to pull something different from the general wreckage. It was a spheroid casing of some kind that was almost five metres long and completely undamaged. Coloured lights blinked along its length and Allak made a decision.
‘Bring it aboard and take it to the medical lab. There may be something inside. Major Beqan, please join me. Colonel, the CIC is yours.’
Without waiting for an answer, Allak and Beqan left the CIC, then took the metal staircase down to the next level and continued striding along the deck plates toward the medical lab several decks down. When they arrived the fighters had returned and the casing was being carried by the soldiers into the lab. They followed the casing inside and the ship’s doctor stood by, waiting.
‘Sorry, Doctor, this is a military matter. Major, open it.’
Beqan stood over the casing and found what looked like a hatch release. She pressed it and the upper half split in two, opening to reveal the comfortable but cramped interior. Inside, a pale alien almost two metres in length looked back with pale blue eyes. It had black hair shorn almost two inches from its scalp and wore a uniform of red and black. Beqan pulled her gun and the alien raised its arms in surrender. Obviously it was used to this kind of treatment and that did not please Allak in the least. Beqan allowed the alien to extricate itself from the casing and then gestured for it to back against the bulkhead of the medical bay.
The doctor approached it but paused at Allak's insistence. 'I need to check if it's injured, it is my duty.'
'It isn't one of us, Doctor.'
'That's irrelevant,' the doctor rejoined.
'No it isn't,' the doctor replied and waved the scanner over the alien before stepping away. 'He appears to be in good health.'
Allak took in the alien’s clothing. It was old and dull, but there was a peculiar device attached to the torso that seemed oddly out of place. The alien looked at them with what seemed to Allak intelligent eyes and then spoke.
‘Thank you for rescuing me. I thought I might have been trapped in there.’
Beqan took a step back and pointed her gun at the alien as it turned round to face them. ‘How do you know our language?’
The alien smiled. ‘I don’t, this device allows me to understand you, and you to understand me.’
‘What are you?’ Allak asked as the other soldiers pointed their weapons at the male alien.
‘I am human, from a planet far away from here.’
Allak sighed. ‘I presume you have a name, human.’
The alien smiled again. ‘Sorry, it's been a long day. My name is Murdoch, Miles Murdoch.’
'Who do you work for?'
'I work for an organisation called Starfleet Command, which is part of the United Federation of Planets.'
Allak relaxed his posture only slightly at the mention of the Federation. 'I would have assumed you to travel around in a larger, better-armed vessel.'
Murdoch chuckled but there was no humour in it. 'That vessel was far better armed than you think, but it made no difference to the outcome. My vessel is gone and with it all the intelligence I had gathered on the aliens who've been attacking this sector.'
Allak turned to the soldiers. 'Get back out there and find something in that wreckage.'
'Thank you, but I don't think you'll find anything.'
'Perhaps not, but we're looking for the aliens too. Come, let me arrange you some quarters.'
Ynelavii Battlecruiser Oxelus
Kursican sector
Stardate 55260.3 (April 6, 2378)
‘General, we should run drills.’
‘Our people know what to do, Ferok. Ready all the fighter squadrons for launch. I want them in formation as soon as we return to normal space.’
‘Aye sir,’ Ferok replied. ‘What do you think we’re going to find?’
‘I don’t think we’re going to find anything, Colonel. I think that this is a wild zxunta chase, but I will follow my orders and track this energy signature back to the ship it originated from. Do the tactical people know what type of energy it is?’
‘Yes sir, they believe it is supercharged particles we call ions making the trail, indicating that the vessel we are tracking is travelling at speeds below the light threshold.’
‘Then we should catch up to it soon. There is however the possibility that we are being lured away from the homeworld.’
‘I thought of that, sir,’ Ferok replied. ‘There are two cruisers waiting behind the second moon in case the aliens do return.’
Allak smiled. ‘You disobeyed a direct order from the First Prime; she ordered all cruisers to be on patrol.’
‘They are on patrol, behind the moon, making sure there are no surprise attacks.’
Allak chuckled, earning strange glances from the CIC crew. ‘You have the tactical prowess of Kulou and the cunning of a politician, do you want my job?’
‘Not yet, sir, but I was planning on it someday.’
‘Perhaps you could be my successor one day.’
Ferok’s answer was cut off by a curse from the tactical station. ‘General, I am picking up debris ahead of us.’
‘Slow to sub-light speed and engage all tactical systems.’
Purple lighting dimmed the CIC as the crew hurried to their tactical stations. The Oxelus slowed and Allak could immediately see that there was no threat. The debris had been a medium-sized vessel, possibly a freighter, and was now nothing more than drifting metal. He saw a flare of something and squinted.
‘General, do you see the flare?’
‘I see it, Colonel, send out the Third Squadron to identify.’
‘Aye sir.’
The doors on the ventral hull opened with a hiss of air and half a dozen small dart-like fighters emerged, immediately forming a V formation and then spread out across the debris field. There was an anxious wait as the fighters picked though the debris, but all of a sudden one of them used a grappler to pull something different from the general wreckage. It was a spheroid casing of some kind that was almost five metres long and completely undamaged. Coloured lights blinked along its length and Allak made a decision.
‘Bring it aboard and take it to the medical lab. There may be something inside. Major Beqan, please join me. Colonel, the CIC is yours.’
Without waiting for an answer, Allak and Beqan left the CIC, then took the metal staircase down to the next level and continued striding along the deck plates toward the medical lab several decks down. When they arrived the fighters had returned and the casing was being carried by the soldiers into the lab. They followed the casing inside and the ship’s doctor stood by, waiting.
‘Sorry, Doctor, this is a military matter. Major, open it.’
Beqan stood over the casing and found what looked like a hatch release. She pressed it and the upper half split in two, opening to reveal the comfortable but cramped interior. Inside, a pale alien almost two metres in length looked back with pale blue eyes. It had black hair shorn almost two inches from its scalp and wore a uniform of red and black. Beqan pulled her gun and the alien raised its arms in surrender. Obviously it was used to this kind of treatment and that did not please Allak in the least. Beqan allowed the alien to extricate itself from the casing and then gestured for it to back against the bulkhead of the medical bay.
The doctor approached it but paused at Allak's insistence. 'I need to check if it's injured, it is my duty.'
'It isn't one of us, Doctor.'
'That's irrelevant,' the doctor rejoined.
'No it isn't,' the doctor replied and waved the scanner over the alien before stepping away. 'He appears to be in good health.'
Allak took in the alien’s clothing. It was old and dull, but there was a peculiar device attached to the torso that seemed oddly out of place. The alien looked at them with what seemed to Allak intelligent eyes and then spoke.
‘Thank you for rescuing me. I thought I might have been trapped in there.’
Beqan took a step back and pointed her gun at the alien as it turned round to face them. ‘How do you know our language?’
The alien smiled. ‘I don’t, this device allows me to understand you, and you to understand me.’
‘What are you?’ Allak asked as the other soldiers pointed their weapons at the male alien.
‘I am human, from a planet far away from here.’
Allak sighed. ‘I presume you have a name, human.’
The alien smiled again. ‘Sorry, it's been a long day. My name is Murdoch, Miles Murdoch.’
'Who do you work for?'
'I work for an organisation called Starfleet Command, which is part of the United Federation of Planets.'
Allak relaxed his posture only slightly at the mention of the Federation. 'I would have assumed you to travel around in a larger, better-armed vessel.'
Murdoch chuckled but there was no humour in it. 'That vessel was far better armed than you think, but it made no difference to the outcome. My vessel is gone and with it all the intelligence I had gathered on the aliens who've been attacking this sector.'
Allak turned to the soldiers. 'Get back out there and find something in that wreckage.'
'Thank you, but I don't think you'll find anything.'
'Perhaps not, but we're looking for the aliens too. Come, let me arrange you some quarters.'
Chapter Sixteen
Starbase 535
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55260.6 (April 6, 2378)
Commander Logan paced his way around the Operations centre with a scowl on his face. He was used to being woken up in the middle of the night for red alerts, but not for something that then became nothing. His people on this gods-forsaken outpost were good but they were not geniuses. Something had spooked them and they didn’t spook easily, not after hanging around the aggravating Kursicans for any length of time. The Core, as the central table was known, was full of officers trying to triangulate a signal.
‘Please tell me you have something?’
‘Yes sir, we received a distress call from a freighter in the sector but it suddenly stopped,’ Lieutenant Commander Hassan Osden replied.
‘Where was the freighter?’
‘On the far side of the sector, which is why it took so long to reach us.’
‘Which freighter? I didn’t think we had any colonies out that far.’
‘The New Hampshire colony is out there, sir, Commander,’ one of the enlisted personnel reminded him.
Logan ignored him. ‘Which freighter?’
‘The Hercules, sir.’
‘What the hell was Murdoch doing out there?' Logan muttered. 'Try to hail him.’
‘There’s nothing to hail, sir. The distress call was cut off, he’s probably dead.’
Logan chuckled at his executive officer's naivety. ‘Miles Murdoch works for Starfleet Intelligence, Commander. He's been working undercover for more than two decades before coming in out of the cold and now he's our go to guy in the sector. He has an annoying habit of staying alive, and I won’t count him out even if that freighter of his was blown to smithereens. Send the Weisskopf out to look for him. They’re probably closer than the Pytheas anyway.’
‘Yes sir, they are.’
‘So send them.’
‘What about the subspace radio silence?’
‘This is a priority. Something blew his ship up and none of the locals have the capability of blowing it up.’
'It is only a freighter, sir.'
'Starfleet Intelligence gave it a few upgrades.'
‘What about the Resoto Hegemony and the Ynelavii Cooperative?’
‘They’re too busy fighting amongst themselves, and neither has set foot out of their respective systems for months.’
'Sir, we picked up chatter from both of them recently. It was in the report I gave you yesterday morning.'
'Ah yes, what they call the Gethsemane system. Log that system on our star charts and provide the information, scrambled, to Dhrex.'
‘Sir, Commander Dhrex says he’ll set a course as soon as he’s finished dropping off supplies at the Waystation,’ the enlisted man spoke up again.
‘Good; now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to get back to bed.’
‘Aye sir.’
‘And remind me to give Murdoch a good thrashing when he steps foot aboard the starbase,’ Logan said as he moved toward the doors of Operations.
The red alert klaxon sounded and he looked up. ‘Now what?’
His exec smirked. ‘A Romulan warbird has just decloaked one million kilometres from the starbase.’
Logan sighed and his shoulders slumped. ‘Advise Subcommander Sokal that I will greet her in the main transporter room, and cancel red alert. Maybe next time she’ll call ahead.’
‘She hasn’t yet,’ Osden said with a grin.
‘Commander, just get things rolling, and then get yourself to bed. The generators in this place still need to be calibrated for the new Starfleet equipment coming in on the next supply ship.’
‘I can bring the Kursican equipment up to Starfleet specs.’
‘I know that, and you know that, but Command doesn’t care. They think you need Starfleet equipment to run a Starfleet outpost.’
Osden rolled his eyes. ‘Deep Space Nine is Cardassian, Xendi Starbase Nine is actually a Xendi outpost run for the Federation, and I could list others.’
‘But this place used to be a prison station and as such some of the technology is so far below Federation Starfleet technology as to be laughable,’ Logan shot back good naturedly. ‘Just make sure that you’re ready.’
‘I’ll be ready, sir.’
‘Good, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and placate a Romulan commander who will no doubt berate me for not finding her missing operative.’
‘Has she told you when she lost this person?’
Logan stopped in his tracks. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Judging by Romulan—and Vulcan—ageing, sir, Subcommander Sokal looks to be about one-hundred-thirty years old, a bit old to still be a Subcommander, and that brings up the question of where the Gilded Talon’s Commander is.’
‘Since the end of the war, there were probably far too few commanders for the number of ships, the same problem we faced at the end of the war. I’ll try and ask carefully, but Intelligence still wants as much information as she can give us about the current state of the Empire.’
‘I think she’s a rogue, sir,’ Osden said plainly. 'If the Empire truly had so few ships, why would would they send one out here for a single missing operative?'
‘There are a number of rogue ships operating in the galaxy these days. I’ll accept that. But what makes you think that Sokal is a rogue?’
‘I’ve seen the repair reports about her ship and the engineers can tell you that she hasn’t had access to a repair base for some time. She’s operating outside the Empire so any information you do get is likely to be misinformation or meaningless lies.’
‘That’s a wild accusation but it’s not up to us. If Intelligence or Command wants to ask Praetor Hiren about Sokal, that’s up to them.’
‘You’d better greet her, sir. She’s probably more than ready to beam over by now.’
‘Thank you for your words of wisdom, Commander,’ Logan muttered and entered the turbolift.
Starbase 535
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55260.6 (April 6, 2378)
Commander Logan paced his way around the Operations centre with a scowl on his face. He was used to being woken up in the middle of the night for red alerts, but not for something that then became nothing. His people on this gods-forsaken outpost were good but they were not geniuses. Something had spooked them and they didn’t spook easily, not after hanging around the aggravating Kursicans for any length of time. The Core, as the central table was known, was full of officers trying to triangulate a signal.
‘Please tell me you have something?’
‘Yes sir, we received a distress call from a freighter in the sector but it suddenly stopped,’ Lieutenant Commander Hassan Osden replied.
‘Where was the freighter?’
‘On the far side of the sector, which is why it took so long to reach us.’
‘Which freighter? I didn’t think we had any colonies out that far.’
‘The New Hampshire colony is out there, sir, Commander,’ one of the enlisted personnel reminded him.
Logan ignored him. ‘Which freighter?’
‘The Hercules, sir.’
‘What the hell was Murdoch doing out there?' Logan muttered. 'Try to hail him.’
‘There’s nothing to hail, sir. The distress call was cut off, he’s probably dead.’
Logan chuckled at his executive officer's naivety. ‘Miles Murdoch works for Starfleet Intelligence, Commander. He's been working undercover for more than two decades before coming in out of the cold and now he's our go to guy in the sector. He has an annoying habit of staying alive, and I won’t count him out even if that freighter of his was blown to smithereens. Send the Weisskopf out to look for him. They’re probably closer than the Pytheas anyway.’
‘Yes sir, they are.’
‘So send them.’
‘What about the subspace radio silence?’
‘This is a priority. Something blew his ship up and none of the locals have the capability of blowing it up.’
'It is only a freighter, sir.'
'Starfleet Intelligence gave it a few upgrades.'
‘What about the Resoto Hegemony and the Ynelavii Cooperative?’
‘They’re too busy fighting amongst themselves, and neither has set foot out of their respective systems for months.’
'Sir, we picked up chatter from both of them recently. It was in the report I gave you yesterday morning.'
'Ah yes, what they call the Gethsemane system. Log that system on our star charts and provide the information, scrambled, to Dhrex.'
‘Sir, Commander Dhrex says he’ll set a course as soon as he’s finished dropping off supplies at the Waystation,’ the enlisted man spoke up again.
‘Good; now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to get back to bed.’
‘Aye sir.’
‘And remind me to give Murdoch a good thrashing when he steps foot aboard the starbase,’ Logan said as he moved toward the doors of Operations.
The red alert klaxon sounded and he looked up. ‘Now what?’
His exec smirked. ‘A Romulan warbird has just decloaked one million kilometres from the starbase.’
Logan sighed and his shoulders slumped. ‘Advise Subcommander Sokal that I will greet her in the main transporter room, and cancel red alert. Maybe next time she’ll call ahead.’
‘She hasn’t yet,’ Osden said with a grin.
‘Commander, just get things rolling, and then get yourself to bed. The generators in this place still need to be calibrated for the new Starfleet equipment coming in on the next supply ship.’
‘I can bring the Kursican equipment up to Starfleet specs.’
‘I know that, and you know that, but Command doesn’t care. They think you need Starfleet equipment to run a Starfleet outpost.’
Osden rolled his eyes. ‘Deep Space Nine is Cardassian, Xendi Starbase Nine is actually a Xendi outpost run for the Federation, and I could list others.’
‘But this place used to be a prison station and as such some of the technology is so far below Federation Starfleet technology as to be laughable,’ Logan shot back good naturedly. ‘Just make sure that you’re ready.’
‘I’ll be ready, sir.’
‘Good, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and placate a Romulan commander who will no doubt berate me for not finding her missing operative.’
‘Has she told you when she lost this person?’
Logan stopped in his tracks. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Judging by Romulan—and Vulcan—ageing, sir, Subcommander Sokal looks to be about one-hundred-thirty years old, a bit old to still be a Subcommander, and that brings up the question of where the Gilded Talon’s Commander is.’
‘Since the end of the war, there were probably far too few commanders for the number of ships, the same problem we faced at the end of the war. I’ll try and ask carefully, but Intelligence still wants as much information as she can give us about the current state of the Empire.’
‘I think she’s a rogue, sir,’ Osden said plainly. 'If the Empire truly had so few ships, why would would they send one out here for a single missing operative?'
‘There are a number of rogue ships operating in the galaxy these days. I’ll accept that. But what makes you think that Sokal is a rogue?’
‘I’ve seen the repair reports about her ship and the engineers can tell you that she hasn’t had access to a repair base for some time. She’s operating outside the Empire so any information you do get is likely to be misinformation or meaningless lies.’
‘That’s a wild accusation but it’s not up to us. If Intelligence or Command wants to ask Praetor Hiren about Sokal, that’s up to them.’
‘You’d better greet her, sir. She’s probably more than ready to beam over by now.’
‘Thank you for your words of wisdom, Commander,’ Logan muttered and entered the turbolift.
Chapter Seventeen
Starbase 535
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55260.7 (April 6, 2378)
Privately, Commander Logan agreed with the exec’s opinion. Sokal’s behaviour was peculiar at times, like she was doing something on her own agenda and not following the Praetor’s wishes, whatever those were. His experience of Romulans in the past was that of a cunning, conniving and treacherous race intent of seeding discord between their enemies so that they could conquer the galaxy. Since the end of the war, the Empire had almost completely withdrawn back into itself, like it had done after the Tomed incident in 2311. Starfleet Intelligence wanted to know what they were up to and why they were doing it now, when the alliance had never been stronger. In fact, it was the only reason that he was trying to keep Sokal happy, so she would reveal something to him that he could use.
When the turbolift deposited him outside the transporter room, he found Subcommander Sokal waiting for him. Her prominent brow ridge and upswept eyebrows, as well as the disapproving scowl on her face, made him smile a little. Sokal was abrasive, fierce, arrogant and patriotic, but she was attractive too. Her lithe athletic figure made him wish that his marriage would collapse faster than it was already doing so. Anna had refused to make the trip with him to this far corner of the galaxy even though she had lost the few friends she did have after her affairs became public. He had offered to allow her a clean start but she was a fighter and decided to stay on Earth and claw her way back into the good graces of those around her. The day before he left she filed for divorce and he didn’t fight it. They had nothing to argue over so it was just a matter of waiting for the paperwork to come through.
‘Are you just going to stand there?’ Sokal asked.
‘Subcommander, welcome to Starbase 535. It has been too long since your last visit,’ Logan said with a sincere smile. He enjoyed dancing around with her, and noticed that she was alone, without a phalanx of centurions. ‘Where are your guards?’
Sokal shrugged. ‘I wanted to speak with you in private. Is there anywhere we can talk?’
‘The Hanging Gardens?’ he suggested.
‘I find it tends to rain too much there for my liking. I do not like the rain, even on ch’Rihan. The rain here is more like Ferenginar and I dislike those ugly trolls even more than the rain.’
‘What about my quarters?’ he asked before he realised what he was saying.
Her eyebrows rose into her forehead and he cursed himself for even thinking it. ‘That would be…interesting,’ she replied in an even tone, more Vulcan than Romulan.
Logan stifled a coughing fit and gestured for her to follow him. ‘This way, Subcommander.’
Sokal started to follow him but there were soon walking in step and he found himself turned on by her close proximity. The distinct scent that emanated from her heightened that feeling and he was sure she could sense it. Anyone walking by would have been able to, and it made him feel vulnerable.
‘Do not worry, Commander. Whatever happens in your quarters, will stay in your quarters. A human idiom I believe.’
Logan coughed as his face coloured. ‘Yeah, a human idiom.’
Sokal laughed and he found the sound at odds with her personality. ‘Humans are so easy to play with.’
‘I think you’ll find that we can give as good as we get.’
‘I would like to put that theory into practice.’
Logan knew that she was being playful, more so than usual, but he still hoped that she would provide more than a mere distraction. After all, he was on a mission to get as much intelligence from her as he could. Once they entered his quarters however, her expression and demeanour changed completely.
'Do not think for one moment that I would ever entertain the notion of sharing your bed, Commander.'
Logan smirked. 'I didn't really expect you, Sokal. It is amusing for the rest of the crew though to see me to go to jelly in your presence.'
The Romulan woman smiled thinly. 'My crew believe it is a weakness I will eventually tire of.'
'Well, now that you're here, what do you have for me?'
'Not much,' she replied. 'I know that my patron is looking for a warbird lost in this sector between one and two hundred years ago. He further believes that the data banks contain classified information that if deciphered and made public would destabilise the quadrant.'
'In the current climate that would be a problem. None of us need anything damaging right now. What about the other matter?'
'I know very little on that subject as well, but I have heard rumours. Praetor Hiren is concerned that the Remans are up to something as they have not been meeting their mining quota for some time now and he has asked Admiral Braeg's most loyal Commanders, Suran and Donatra, to keep a close eye on the new Reman leadership.'
'That is more than I could have hoped for, thank you.'
'Do not thank me. The only reason I am telling you this is that you may be able to stop what is happening within the Empire. I know your people have high-level sources and someone needs to find out what the Remans are up to. They have become far too powerful since the war started.'
'How so?'
'It is believed that the new leader, Shinzon of Remus, has a dangerous weapon and intends to use it against the Imperial Senate. But it is all rumours.'
'In all rumours there is a grain of truth.'
'Perhaps so, but this is one rumour that I hope is completely wrong. It would be extremely unfortunate for both our peoples if it was true. From what I have heard, Shinzon of Remus is a dangerous man.'
Starbase 535
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55260.7 (April 6, 2378)
Privately, Commander Logan agreed with the exec’s opinion. Sokal’s behaviour was peculiar at times, like she was doing something on her own agenda and not following the Praetor’s wishes, whatever those were. His experience of Romulans in the past was that of a cunning, conniving and treacherous race intent of seeding discord between their enemies so that they could conquer the galaxy. Since the end of the war, the Empire had almost completely withdrawn back into itself, like it had done after the Tomed incident in 2311. Starfleet Intelligence wanted to know what they were up to and why they were doing it now, when the alliance had never been stronger. In fact, it was the only reason that he was trying to keep Sokal happy, so she would reveal something to him that he could use.
When the turbolift deposited him outside the transporter room, he found Subcommander Sokal waiting for him. Her prominent brow ridge and upswept eyebrows, as well as the disapproving scowl on her face, made him smile a little. Sokal was abrasive, fierce, arrogant and patriotic, but she was attractive too. Her lithe athletic figure made him wish that his marriage would collapse faster than it was already doing so. Anna had refused to make the trip with him to this far corner of the galaxy even though she had lost the few friends she did have after her affairs became public. He had offered to allow her a clean start but she was a fighter and decided to stay on Earth and claw her way back into the good graces of those around her. The day before he left she filed for divorce and he didn’t fight it. They had nothing to argue over so it was just a matter of waiting for the paperwork to come through.
‘Are you just going to stand there?’ Sokal asked.
‘Subcommander, welcome to Starbase 535. It has been too long since your last visit,’ Logan said with a sincere smile. He enjoyed dancing around with her, and noticed that she was alone, without a phalanx of centurions. ‘Where are your guards?’
Sokal shrugged. ‘I wanted to speak with you in private. Is there anywhere we can talk?’
‘The Hanging Gardens?’ he suggested.
‘I find it tends to rain too much there for my liking. I do not like the rain, even on ch’Rihan. The rain here is more like Ferenginar and I dislike those ugly trolls even more than the rain.’
‘What about my quarters?’ he asked before he realised what he was saying.
Her eyebrows rose into her forehead and he cursed himself for even thinking it. ‘That would be…interesting,’ she replied in an even tone, more Vulcan than Romulan.
Logan stifled a coughing fit and gestured for her to follow him. ‘This way, Subcommander.’
Sokal started to follow him but there were soon walking in step and he found himself turned on by her close proximity. The distinct scent that emanated from her heightened that feeling and he was sure she could sense it. Anyone walking by would have been able to, and it made him feel vulnerable.
‘Do not worry, Commander. Whatever happens in your quarters, will stay in your quarters. A human idiom I believe.’
Logan coughed as his face coloured. ‘Yeah, a human idiom.’
Sokal laughed and he found the sound at odds with her personality. ‘Humans are so easy to play with.’
‘I think you’ll find that we can give as good as we get.’
‘I would like to put that theory into practice.’
Logan knew that she was being playful, more so than usual, but he still hoped that she would provide more than a mere distraction. After all, he was on a mission to get as much intelligence from her as he could. Once they entered his quarters however, her expression and demeanour changed completely.
'Do not think for one moment that I would ever entertain the notion of sharing your bed, Commander.'
Logan smirked. 'I didn't really expect you, Sokal. It is amusing for the rest of the crew though to see me to go to jelly in your presence.'
The Romulan woman smiled thinly. 'My crew believe it is a weakness I will eventually tire of.'
'Well, now that you're here, what do you have for me?'
'Not much,' she replied. 'I know that my patron is looking for a warbird lost in this sector between one and two hundred years ago. He further believes that the data banks contain classified information that if deciphered and made public would destabilise the quadrant.'
'In the current climate that would be a problem. None of us need anything damaging right now. What about the other matter?'
'I know very little on that subject as well, but I have heard rumours. Praetor Hiren is concerned that the Remans are up to something as they have not been meeting their mining quota for some time now and he has asked Admiral Braeg's most loyal Commanders, Suran and Donatra, to keep a close eye on the new Reman leadership.'
'That is more than I could have hoped for, thank you.'
'Do not thank me. The only reason I am telling you this is that you may be able to stop what is happening within the Empire. I know your people have high-level sources and someone needs to find out what the Remans are up to. They have become far too powerful since the war started.'
'How so?'
'It is believed that the new leader, Shinzon of Remus, has a dangerous weapon and intends to use it against the Imperial Senate. But it is all rumours.'
'In all rumours there is a grain of truth.'
'Perhaps so, but this is one rumour that I hope is completely wrong. It would be extremely unfortunate for both our peoples if it was true. From what I have heard, Shinzon of Remus is a dangerous man.'
Chapter Eighteen
USS Weisskopf
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55261.1 (April 6, 2378)
The message was clear to Dhrex’s mind. Find the remains of the Hercules, see if Murdoch was still alive, and return him to the starbase for debriefing. There were only two problems with that. The debris field was across the other side of the sector and would take almost a full day to reach, and someone else might have picked him up first. The Weisskopf got underway less than an hour after Lieutenant Commander Osden had ordered them to find the Intelligence operative and they were now four hours closer to their destination. Dhrex had checked out Murdoch’s jacket after receiving the call and was surprised at what he found.
Miles Murdoch was in the Academy graduating class of 2368, the same class as Joshua Albert, the cadet killed during the illegal Kolvoord Starburst manoeuvre. Murdoch was not a member of Nova Squadron, and spoke out against such elite groups even after his graduation. He was assigned to the USS Montezuma in the security division and performed excellently in combat, being decorated twice before being promoted and transferred to the Potemkin in 2371. His tenure on that vessel was brief as he was injured just three months later. After recovering on Starbase One he was approached by Starfleet Intelligence, who's bad intel led to his injury. He agreed to join them and was assigned to the Al-Batani in 2372, along with another familiar officer and the personnel shuffling now made more sense.
After that his career was blank as his assignments required a security clearance higher than Dhrex currently had. Higher than Drummond had. Whatever he was working on for Starfleet Intelligence was clearly important enough for him to be let out on his own and working overtly. It made Dhrex think that this still had something to do with what the Pytheas was now dealing with, and that didn't bode well for him.
'Computer, where is Lieutenant Marshall?'
'Lieutenant Marshall is in holodeck two.'
Curious, Dhrex left his quarters and went down to the holodeck to see what the tactical officer was doing. When the holodeck doors opened, the commander was surprised to find that he was standing on Earth, but at a time he didn't recognise.
'Where are we, Lieutenant?'
'Florida, sir, in 2153.'
'The Xindi attack.'
'Yes sir.'
'Why are you here?'
'To reflect.'
'I need to talk to you about Miles Murdoch.'
'He was on the freighter we're looking for, wasn't he?'
'How do know about that?'
'We both work for Starfleet Intelligence, Commander. I was assigned to this sector as his backup. It was a good decision.'
Dhrex decided against pushing for anything. 'When you decide you want to tell me, if you can, why you're out here, you know where to find me.'
'Aye sir.'
The acting captain left the holodeck and headed back to his quarters. ‘Dhrex to sickbay.’
‘He’s still unconscious, Commander,’ Vallejo said before Dhrex could even ask the question.
‘I could have been asking a different question, Carl.’
‘And I could be an Admiral. It’s been a while since you were last here. The drugs I’m giving him are helping him to fight whatever alien consciousness has got him pinned down, but if he decides to give up there will be nothing I can do. I’d like you to come down here whenever you have the time and talk to him. He’ll be able to hear you.’
Dhrex considered it for a moment. ‘I’m on my way.’
‘Not now you’re not,’ Vallejo shot back. ‘He does need rest. You can come down in six hours when I give him the next shot. Your voice should be a booster.’
‘It might also convince him to give up,’ Dhrex joked.
‘There is that chance,’ the crotchety doctor replied, ‘but I’m betting that he has more respect for you than you give him credit for. He didn’t make a fuss when we relieved him of command because he knew two things. The first was that we were right to do so and the second was that he trusted you to run his ship.’
‘He told you that; didn’t he?’
‘If you tell him I told you, I’ll deny every word.’
‘Don’t worry, Doc. I have more important things to deal with. Get sickbay ready for burns and decompression sickness, we might have a very sick patient coming aboard in the next day or so.’
‘We’ll be ready down here,’ Vallejo said in a more serious tone. ‘Can you tell me who it is since you know what he might be suffering from?’
‘You were right with the “he” part, but I’m not saying anything more.’
‘Spoilsport.’
‘That’s as it may be. I want to know the second anything changes regarding the captain’s condition.’
‘Don’t worry; you’ll know the second I do.’
‘Thanks, Doc. At least I know Greg had a reason for being a grouch recently.’
‘Do you have any idea when he was infected?’
‘It could have been any time in the last six months, since we were assigned to the Kursican sector. I was hoping that you might be able to tell me something.’
‘When I know what infected him maybe I’ll be able to tell you. Right now I’m concentrating on keeping him fighting fit.’
‘Thanks, Dhrex out.’
It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, but it was better than hearing nothing at all. With that taken care of, Dhrex decided to get some exercise of his own in and headed for the gym. He had expressly forbidden one of the cargo holds for being used for anything other than a gym since he hated using holographic weights. He never felt like he’d had a full workout after using them and he was gratified to know that the crew frequented the gym as well, either because he did or because Carl made them. He didn’t know and didn’t particularly care, because right now he needed to work up a sweat.
USS Weisskopf
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55261.1 (April 6, 2378)
The message was clear to Dhrex’s mind. Find the remains of the Hercules, see if Murdoch was still alive, and return him to the starbase for debriefing. There were only two problems with that. The debris field was across the other side of the sector and would take almost a full day to reach, and someone else might have picked him up first. The Weisskopf got underway less than an hour after Lieutenant Commander Osden had ordered them to find the Intelligence operative and they were now four hours closer to their destination. Dhrex had checked out Murdoch’s jacket after receiving the call and was surprised at what he found.
Miles Murdoch was in the Academy graduating class of 2368, the same class as Joshua Albert, the cadet killed during the illegal Kolvoord Starburst manoeuvre. Murdoch was not a member of Nova Squadron, and spoke out against such elite groups even after his graduation. He was assigned to the USS Montezuma in the security division and performed excellently in combat, being decorated twice before being promoted and transferred to the Potemkin in 2371. His tenure on that vessel was brief as he was injured just three months later. After recovering on Starbase One he was approached by Starfleet Intelligence, who's bad intel led to his injury. He agreed to join them and was assigned to the Al-Batani in 2372, along with another familiar officer and the personnel shuffling now made more sense.
After that his career was blank as his assignments required a security clearance higher than Dhrex currently had. Higher than Drummond had. Whatever he was working on for Starfleet Intelligence was clearly important enough for him to be let out on his own and working overtly. It made Dhrex think that this still had something to do with what the Pytheas was now dealing with, and that didn't bode well for him.
'Computer, where is Lieutenant Marshall?'
'Lieutenant Marshall is in holodeck two.'
Curious, Dhrex left his quarters and went down to the holodeck to see what the tactical officer was doing. When the holodeck doors opened, the commander was surprised to find that he was standing on Earth, but at a time he didn't recognise.
'Where are we, Lieutenant?'
'Florida, sir, in 2153.'
'The Xindi attack.'
'Yes sir.'
'Why are you here?'
'To reflect.'
'I need to talk to you about Miles Murdoch.'
'He was on the freighter we're looking for, wasn't he?'
'How do know about that?'
'We both work for Starfleet Intelligence, Commander. I was assigned to this sector as his backup. It was a good decision.'
Dhrex decided against pushing for anything. 'When you decide you want to tell me, if you can, why you're out here, you know where to find me.'
'Aye sir.'
The acting captain left the holodeck and headed back to his quarters. ‘Dhrex to sickbay.’
‘He’s still unconscious, Commander,’ Vallejo said before Dhrex could even ask the question.
‘I could have been asking a different question, Carl.’
‘And I could be an Admiral. It’s been a while since you were last here. The drugs I’m giving him are helping him to fight whatever alien consciousness has got him pinned down, but if he decides to give up there will be nothing I can do. I’d like you to come down here whenever you have the time and talk to him. He’ll be able to hear you.’
Dhrex considered it for a moment. ‘I’m on my way.’
‘Not now you’re not,’ Vallejo shot back. ‘He does need rest. You can come down in six hours when I give him the next shot. Your voice should be a booster.’
‘It might also convince him to give up,’ Dhrex joked.
‘There is that chance,’ the crotchety doctor replied, ‘but I’m betting that he has more respect for you than you give him credit for. He didn’t make a fuss when we relieved him of command because he knew two things. The first was that we were right to do so and the second was that he trusted you to run his ship.’
‘He told you that; didn’t he?’
‘If you tell him I told you, I’ll deny every word.’
‘Don’t worry, Doc. I have more important things to deal with. Get sickbay ready for burns and decompression sickness, we might have a very sick patient coming aboard in the next day or so.’
‘We’ll be ready down here,’ Vallejo said in a more serious tone. ‘Can you tell me who it is since you know what he might be suffering from?’
‘You were right with the “he” part, but I’m not saying anything more.’
‘Spoilsport.’
‘That’s as it may be. I want to know the second anything changes regarding the captain’s condition.’
‘Don’t worry; you’ll know the second I do.’
‘Thanks, Doc. At least I know Greg had a reason for being a grouch recently.’
‘Do you have any idea when he was infected?’
‘It could have been any time in the last six months, since we were assigned to the Kursican sector. I was hoping that you might be able to tell me something.’
‘When I know what infected him maybe I’ll be able to tell you. Right now I’m concentrating on keeping him fighting fit.’
‘Thanks, Dhrex out.’
It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, but it was better than hearing nothing at all. With that taken care of, Dhrex decided to get some exercise of his own in and headed for the gym. He had expressly forbidden one of the cargo holds for being used for anything other than a gym since he hated using holographic weights. He never felt like he’d had a full workout after using them and he was gratified to know that the crew frequented the gym as well, either because he did or because Carl made them. He didn’t know and didn’t particularly care, because right now he needed to work up a sweat.
Chapter Nineteen
USS Pytheas
New Tokyo Orbit
Stardate 55261.9 (April 6, 2378)
Lieutenant Sheena Gonzales sat in the mess hall sipping at a coffee as she thought of the last shift. Protecting the scientists from the New Tokyo population was a piece of cake and she deserved better than that. She had joined Starfleet to be a tactical officer and was now just one step away from that goal. If Command hadn’t placed Lieutenant Commander Parker as tactical officer at the last minute, she was sure that she would have that bridge position and for the most part she was quite content to wait for it. But the scientists weren’t in any danger from the colonists who ignored the crew anyway, but the captain had insisted on a five person security team led by the security chief. Her shift was over and she was planning to go to her quarters for some quiet meditation when the chief engineer walked in. Lieutenant Commander Xeris was a full-blooded Romulan, the only one she knew of in Starfleet, and he was an enigma. It was attractive to be with someone who was difficult to figure out, especially for a Betazoid. She watched him peruse the replicator menu and then select something and continued to watch as he sniffed the contents and nodded, satisfied.
‘Commander, over here,’ she called before she realised what she was doing.
‘Lieutenant,’ Xeris said in greeting as he strolled over. ‘How is your coffee?’
‘Passable, I prefer the real Berengarian blend, but it’s difficult to get the beans.’
‘I know the feeling. My favourite food is grecha, but it is only available on the homeworld and since they've essentially sealed their borders I haven't been able to get a case.’
‘What is grecha?’
‘It is similar to a Terran pear but has the tartness of a Terran lemon. It is a popular base for many sauces.’
‘I see,’ Gonzales replied. ‘Can I ask what exactly you’re eating? It smells like rotting fish.’
Xeris smiled. ‘That is close to what it is, though the smell is wrong. It is supposed to smell like the Apnex Sea.’
‘Ah, the Apnex Sawfish,’ she said.
‘You’ve tasted it?’
‘A Vulcan I once knew kept some Sawfish on ice. He enjoyed it.’
‘Curious, can I ask a personal question?’
She was taken off-balance but recovered quickly, ‘Of course.’
‘What do you find so fascinating about me?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I have noticed you watching me surreptitiously on numerous occasions.’
She grinned. ‘I find you hard to read, kinesically.’
‘I am a Rihannsu, my body language is supposed to be hard to read, that we have in common with our Vulcan cousins.’
‘All right, but I still find you fascinating. I often wonder how you must feel being the only full-blooded Romulan in Starfleet.’
‘It was difficult at the Academy but I made a few friends and that did help. After the destruction of the Perseverance, I was assigned to the Corps of Engineers’ vessel T’Kumbra but found that I didn't fit in with the all-Vulcan crew so I requested a transfer and was assigned to the Pytheas.’
‘Were you assigned to the Perseverance straight out of the Academy?’
Xeris nodded. ‘I was, but I didn’t have much to do as a junior engineer until the war broke out. When some of my crewmates perished, I was given a field promotion which was made permanent after the war.’
Gonzales could tell he was hiding something, or holding something back, and she wanted to dig deeper but she knew that it would betray his confidence. ‘How has it been on the Pytheas so far? We haven’t exactly been doing much.’
‘True, but I disliked the continuous fighting during the war. I still believe that had the Federation been willing to sit down and talk, we might have been able to avoid the conflict, and saved billions of lives.’
‘We did lose a lot of people,’ Gonzales admitted, her homeworld having been one of the planets which had fallen to the Dominion. ‘But some lost a lot more. The Cardassians were being wiped out and their empire is in ruins.’
‘Had it not been for the war, my own people might not have lost so much.’
Gonzales had to concede that point. ‘There is a positive outlook to this. We might be able to become allies with the Cardassians and the Romulans and the Alpha and Beta Quadrants will be at peace.’
‘There will always be war. It is the nature of the universe.’
‘Please don’t quote philosophy like that, I can’t stand it,’ Gonzales pleaded.
Xeris raised an eyebrow at her. ‘It is unusual to find a security officer who does not partake of at least some philosophy.’
‘You make it sound as if I abhor it, I don’t. I just prefer to read philosophical treatises than hear people quote out-of-context lines.’
‘I see,’ the Romulan replied. ‘In that case, I will refrain from quoting philosophy in your presence.’
‘Thank you, and why are you talking like a Vulcan?’
Xeris chuckled. ‘Was I?’
Gonzales groaned. ‘I was planning to go and meditate, but for some reason I don’t feel like doing that anymore. Would you care for a walk?’
‘In the holodeck?’
‘Of course, I have a few meditation programs that we could choose from.’
‘I’d like that. All I was planning on doing was reading a technical manual.’
‘Let’s go then,’ she said, draining the rest of her coffee.
The two stood and recycled their empty mug and bowl in the replicator before leaving the mess hall. The holodeck was four decks down and they took an empty turbolift. Strolling toward the holodeck in companionable silence, Lieutenant Commander Parker passed them without even a nod and Gonzales sensed something odd, that the tactical officer was intent on getting somewhere and might not have even noticed them. She turned back to face Xeris, but saw that he was also looking at Parker’s retreating back.
USS Pytheas
New Tokyo Orbit
Stardate 55261.9 (April 6, 2378)
Lieutenant Sheena Gonzales sat in the mess hall sipping at a coffee as she thought of the last shift. Protecting the scientists from the New Tokyo population was a piece of cake and she deserved better than that. She had joined Starfleet to be a tactical officer and was now just one step away from that goal. If Command hadn’t placed Lieutenant Commander Parker as tactical officer at the last minute, she was sure that she would have that bridge position and for the most part she was quite content to wait for it. But the scientists weren’t in any danger from the colonists who ignored the crew anyway, but the captain had insisted on a five person security team led by the security chief. Her shift was over and she was planning to go to her quarters for some quiet meditation when the chief engineer walked in. Lieutenant Commander Xeris was a full-blooded Romulan, the only one she knew of in Starfleet, and he was an enigma. It was attractive to be with someone who was difficult to figure out, especially for a Betazoid. She watched him peruse the replicator menu and then select something and continued to watch as he sniffed the contents and nodded, satisfied.
‘Commander, over here,’ she called before she realised what she was doing.
‘Lieutenant,’ Xeris said in greeting as he strolled over. ‘How is your coffee?’
‘Passable, I prefer the real Berengarian blend, but it’s difficult to get the beans.’
‘I know the feeling. My favourite food is grecha, but it is only available on the homeworld and since they've essentially sealed their borders I haven't been able to get a case.’
‘What is grecha?’
‘It is similar to a Terran pear but has the tartness of a Terran lemon. It is a popular base for many sauces.’
‘I see,’ Gonzales replied. ‘Can I ask what exactly you’re eating? It smells like rotting fish.’
Xeris smiled. ‘That is close to what it is, though the smell is wrong. It is supposed to smell like the Apnex Sea.’
‘Ah, the Apnex Sawfish,’ she said.
‘You’ve tasted it?’
‘A Vulcan I once knew kept some Sawfish on ice. He enjoyed it.’
‘Curious, can I ask a personal question?’
She was taken off-balance but recovered quickly, ‘Of course.’
‘What do you find so fascinating about me?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I have noticed you watching me surreptitiously on numerous occasions.’
She grinned. ‘I find you hard to read, kinesically.’
‘I am a Rihannsu, my body language is supposed to be hard to read, that we have in common with our Vulcan cousins.’
‘All right, but I still find you fascinating. I often wonder how you must feel being the only full-blooded Romulan in Starfleet.’
‘It was difficult at the Academy but I made a few friends and that did help. After the destruction of the Perseverance, I was assigned to the Corps of Engineers’ vessel T’Kumbra but found that I didn't fit in with the all-Vulcan crew so I requested a transfer and was assigned to the Pytheas.’
‘Were you assigned to the Perseverance straight out of the Academy?’
Xeris nodded. ‘I was, but I didn’t have much to do as a junior engineer until the war broke out. When some of my crewmates perished, I was given a field promotion which was made permanent after the war.’
Gonzales could tell he was hiding something, or holding something back, and she wanted to dig deeper but she knew that it would betray his confidence. ‘How has it been on the Pytheas so far? We haven’t exactly been doing much.’
‘True, but I disliked the continuous fighting during the war. I still believe that had the Federation been willing to sit down and talk, we might have been able to avoid the conflict, and saved billions of lives.’
‘We did lose a lot of people,’ Gonzales admitted, her homeworld having been one of the planets which had fallen to the Dominion. ‘But some lost a lot more. The Cardassians were being wiped out and their empire is in ruins.’
‘Had it not been for the war, my own people might not have lost so much.’
Gonzales had to concede that point. ‘There is a positive outlook to this. We might be able to become allies with the Cardassians and the Romulans and the Alpha and Beta Quadrants will be at peace.’
‘There will always be war. It is the nature of the universe.’
‘Please don’t quote philosophy like that, I can’t stand it,’ Gonzales pleaded.
Xeris raised an eyebrow at her. ‘It is unusual to find a security officer who does not partake of at least some philosophy.’
‘You make it sound as if I abhor it, I don’t. I just prefer to read philosophical treatises than hear people quote out-of-context lines.’
‘I see,’ the Romulan replied. ‘In that case, I will refrain from quoting philosophy in your presence.’
‘Thank you, and why are you talking like a Vulcan?’
Xeris chuckled. ‘Was I?’
Gonzales groaned. ‘I was planning to go and meditate, but for some reason I don’t feel like doing that anymore. Would you care for a walk?’
‘In the holodeck?’
‘Of course, I have a few meditation programs that we could choose from.’
‘I’d like that. All I was planning on doing was reading a technical manual.’
‘Let’s go then,’ she said, draining the rest of her coffee.
The two stood and recycled their empty mug and bowl in the replicator before leaving the mess hall. The holodeck was four decks down and they took an empty turbolift. Strolling toward the holodeck in companionable silence, Lieutenant Commander Parker passed them without even a nod and Gonzales sensed something odd, that the tactical officer was intent on getting somewhere and might not have even noticed them. She turned back to face Xeris, but saw that he was also looking at Parker’s retreating back.
Chapter Twenty
USS Pytheas
In orbit of New Tokyo
Stardate 55262.0 (April 6, 2378)
Lieutenant K’Tyra Parker noticed her shipmates pass by but did not acknowledge them. Her workout routine had been interrupted by the computer informing her that she had a message waiting for her in her quarters on a priority channel. Knowing that it was from Admiral Ranar made her uneasy since he had promised her that they would not communicate unless it was absolutely necessary, meaning that either something had happened which meant that she would need to break her unstable cover, or information had been uncovered which he needed her to verify. The latter was more probable since Doctor Maxx had not yet completed his genetic analysis of the DNA found at the scene of the abduction. She already knew what he was going to find, since in her time Starfleet knew a lot about the genetic structure of the Cha’lav.
She would have loved to give Maxx a little helping hand but Ranar had warned her against doing so, indicating that such information could cause a panic, and that the fewer people that knew, the better, at least for now. When and if Maxx broke the code on the DNA, which geneticists and linguists in her time had been unable to do, then she could reveal as much as she knew. Parker had hoped that she was wrong and that the Cha’lav would not begin their invasion the same way, but to her it was history and had happened. What she was trying to do now was change her own history.
Parker entered her quarters and left the lights low as she walked over to the desk. Sitting in the chair, she activated the monitor and entered her authorisation code which would unlock the file. After listening to it she could compose a response, encrypt it, and send it back the same way it had been sent.
‘K’Tyra, I know I told you we wouldn’t communicate unless it was necessary,’ Ranar said in a whisper, ‘but I need to know about the second wave of the invasion. Commander Logan informed me that Captain Drummond is currently being given drugs to help him fight off an alien consciousness which is invading his brain. Is this part of their invasion plans?’
Parker’s eyes grew wide at the mention of the alien consciousness. After careful consideration, and several hours of silent meditation and contemplation, she composed the message and sent it off. Only time would tell if she was going to be believed in this century. She knew that she had been chosen to go back in time because she was the foremost—and last living—expert in Cha’lav methodology, technology, and physiology. They had destroyed every single one of the temporal supercomputers that Starfleet Temporal Command used to scan space, not realising that the Enterprise had been one of the few ships with that capability. Parker suddenly let out a string of curses. Zh'Malashan had known, and deliberately allowed herself to be caught.
‘All senior officers, report to the briefing room,’ Astar’s voice impinged on her meditative stance.
Parker stood up, changed her uniform and headed out. She was actually the last to arrive and took her seat quickly, wondering why the captain’s voice sounded so urgent.
‘Doctor Maxx had completed his study of the alien DNA,’ she said.
Parker listened to the Bolian intently, ignoring the looks from Gonzales and Xeris.
‘The normal information encoded on the double helix common to all carbon-based life forms is what you would expect: mental and physical features, etc. The additional information encoded into their genetic structure is impressive and different. It allows for interbreeding between the different phenotypes as Doctor Vallejo suggested, but it also has some unique abilities.’
‘Like what?’ Wright asked before Parker could, for which she was grateful.
‘I believe it could be genetic memory. If we can break that genetic code, we’ll know their entire cultural history. There is also evidence of psionic abilities to an unprecedented level.’
‘What do you mean by that, Doctor?’ Mahtani, the chief science officer, asked.
Maxx swallowed. ‘I think that they might be able to communicate with a non-physical entity.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I can’t be sure at this early stage, but since every humanoid culture across the galaxy has ghost stories or the like, there has been some scientific evidence to support the theory that some people are more prone to receive “visions.” What if these aliens have, as well all the previous phenotypes previously mentioned, a non-physical—or non-linear—phenotype as well?’
Parker suddenly knew what the second wave of the invasion had been all about and knew that Captain Drummond would not survive his ordeal. She would have to contact Admiral Ranar again, but would do so in two ways.
‘Captain, we should inform Commander Logan immediately. I believe this is serious enough to break radio silence,’ she said.
Astar shook her head. ‘Doctor, can you learn anything else from the colony?’
‘No sir, I’ve got all the information I’m likely to get from here.’
‘Then we’ll set a course back to Starbase 535 and report to Commander Logan in person. Dismissed.’
Parker jumped up, intending to head back to her quarters and send another message to the admiral, but her plans were fouled up.
‘Wait behind a moment, Lieutenant.’
‘Sir?’
Once the others had gone, Astar stood up. ‘There was a communications breach last night and I want to know who it was. Whoever it was made it impossible to track them, which means someone who is extremely familiar with the security codes. I want you to keep a lookout on the system and set up something to alert you to any unauthorised use.’
Parker nodded. ‘I am already aware of it, sir. I was in the process of tracking them when you called this briefing.’
Astar looked surprised. ‘How did you know? I was only informed just before the briefing.’
‘I know because whenever you have radio silence there is always someone who wants to break it for something.’
‘I see,’ the captain replied, but she wasn’t convinced. ‘You’ll keep me apprised?’
‘Of course, sir.’
Astar nodded. ‘Dismissed.’
USS Pytheas
In orbit of New Tokyo
Stardate 55262.0 (April 6, 2378)
Lieutenant K’Tyra Parker noticed her shipmates pass by but did not acknowledge them. Her workout routine had been interrupted by the computer informing her that she had a message waiting for her in her quarters on a priority channel. Knowing that it was from Admiral Ranar made her uneasy since he had promised her that they would not communicate unless it was absolutely necessary, meaning that either something had happened which meant that she would need to break her unstable cover, or information had been uncovered which he needed her to verify. The latter was more probable since Doctor Maxx had not yet completed his genetic analysis of the DNA found at the scene of the abduction. She already knew what he was going to find, since in her time Starfleet knew a lot about the genetic structure of the Cha’lav.
She would have loved to give Maxx a little helping hand but Ranar had warned her against doing so, indicating that such information could cause a panic, and that the fewer people that knew, the better, at least for now. When and if Maxx broke the code on the DNA, which geneticists and linguists in her time had been unable to do, then she could reveal as much as she knew. Parker had hoped that she was wrong and that the Cha’lav would not begin their invasion the same way, but to her it was history and had happened. What she was trying to do now was change her own history.
Parker entered her quarters and left the lights low as she walked over to the desk. Sitting in the chair, she activated the monitor and entered her authorisation code which would unlock the file. After listening to it she could compose a response, encrypt it, and send it back the same way it had been sent.
‘K’Tyra, I know I told you we wouldn’t communicate unless it was necessary,’ Ranar said in a whisper, ‘but I need to know about the second wave of the invasion. Commander Logan informed me that Captain Drummond is currently being given drugs to help him fight off an alien consciousness which is invading his brain. Is this part of their invasion plans?’
Parker’s eyes grew wide at the mention of the alien consciousness. After careful consideration, and several hours of silent meditation and contemplation, she composed the message and sent it off. Only time would tell if she was going to be believed in this century. She knew that she had been chosen to go back in time because she was the foremost—and last living—expert in Cha’lav methodology, technology, and physiology. They had destroyed every single one of the temporal supercomputers that Starfleet Temporal Command used to scan space, not realising that the Enterprise had been one of the few ships with that capability. Parker suddenly let out a string of curses. Zh'Malashan had known, and deliberately allowed herself to be caught.
‘All senior officers, report to the briefing room,’ Astar’s voice impinged on her meditative stance.
Parker stood up, changed her uniform and headed out. She was actually the last to arrive and took her seat quickly, wondering why the captain’s voice sounded so urgent.
‘Doctor Maxx had completed his study of the alien DNA,’ she said.
Parker listened to the Bolian intently, ignoring the looks from Gonzales and Xeris.
‘The normal information encoded on the double helix common to all carbon-based life forms is what you would expect: mental and physical features, etc. The additional information encoded into their genetic structure is impressive and different. It allows for interbreeding between the different phenotypes as Doctor Vallejo suggested, but it also has some unique abilities.’
‘Like what?’ Wright asked before Parker could, for which she was grateful.
‘I believe it could be genetic memory. If we can break that genetic code, we’ll know their entire cultural history. There is also evidence of psionic abilities to an unprecedented level.’
‘What do you mean by that, Doctor?’ Mahtani, the chief science officer, asked.
Maxx swallowed. ‘I think that they might be able to communicate with a non-physical entity.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I can’t be sure at this early stage, but since every humanoid culture across the galaxy has ghost stories or the like, there has been some scientific evidence to support the theory that some people are more prone to receive “visions.” What if these aliens have, as well all the previous phenotypes previously mentioned, a non-physical—or non-linear—phenotype as well?’
Parker suddenly knew what the second wave of the invasion had been all about and knew that Captain Drummond would not survive his ordeal. She would have to contact Admiral Ranar again, but would do so in two ways.
‘Captain, we should inform Commander Logan immediately. I believe this is serious enough to break radio silence,’ she said.
Astar shook her head. ‘Doctor, can you learn anything else from the colony?’
‘No sir, I’ve got all the information I’m likely to get from here.’
‘Then we’ll set a course back to Starbase 535 and report to Commander Logan in person. Dismissed.’
Parker jumped up, intending to head back to her quarters and send another message to the admiral, but her plans were fouled up.
‘Wait behind a moment, Lieutenant.’
‘Sir?’
Once the others had gone, Astar stood up. ‘There was a communications breach last night and I want to know who it was. Whoever it was made it impossible to track them, which means someone who is extremely familiar with the security codes. I want you to keep a lookout on the system and set up something to alert you to any unauthorised use.’
Parker nodded. ‘I am already aware of it, sir. I was in the process of tracking them when you called this briefing.’
Astar looked surprised. ‘How did you know? I was only informed just before the briefing.’
‘I know because whenever you have radio silence there is always someone who wants to break it for something.’
‘I see,’ the captain replied, but she wasn’t convinced. ‘You’ll keep me apprised?’
‘Of course, sir.’
Astar nodded. ‘Dismissed.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Unknown Alien Vessel
Kursican sector
Stardate 55262.5 (April 6, 2378)
Yannik woke up in a cell and howled.
His articulated paws tested the strange energy field at the front of the cell and he received a jolt of electricity that caused all his hair to stand on end. He looked around the cell, saw nothing that he could use to escape and then pushed his wet nose as close to the forcefield as possible without getting it scorched. There were other cells, all with unusual aliens which looked more like the Ynelavii than the Resoto. Yannik sniffed the air and almost retched, the humanoid smells of fear were strong. Fear was not something he generally ascribed to, even in this situation, but he was feeling a little trepidation.
‘Can anyone hear me?’ he asked.
‘I’m the only one who understands you, but we can all hear you,’ a voice replied in what sounded like his own language but somewhat accented.
‘Are you Resoto?’
‘No, I’m Denobulan, from the United Federation of Planets. Were you kidnapped in the battle?’
‘My ship was destroyed and my crew killed,’ Yannik growled. ‘Do you know who is responsible?’
‘I was taken from my home with a woman by two aliens that looked like reptiles.’
‘That is who destroyed my ship. What do they want?’
‘I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait around to find out. Whenever they come for you, fight like you’ve never fought before.’
Yannik grinned, his sharp teeth all visible. ‘I will take great pleasure in ripping out their throats.’
‘Do whatever you have to,’ the Denobulan replied. ‘My father is a Federation diplomat. He will send Starfleet out here and whoever these aliens are will be sorry they ever heard of us.’
‘Federation,’ Yannik muttered. ‘I guess Gexin was right, damned Ynelavii Intelligence.’
‘Who?’
‘An enemy of mine, our peoples have been fighting for many years but she was the only one I could send a distress call to when the aliens attacked. She has this foolish notion that we should ally ourselves with other local races and form an alliance.’
The alien chuckled. ‘That is what the Federation is all about. We are a collection of over a hundred and fifty races all working together.’
Yannik listened to the Denobulan and then his ears pricked up. ‘Quiet,’ he hissed. ‘Someone is coming.’
There were indeed footsteps coming closer and Yannik saw the aliens clearly as they passed his cell. Both of them looked like snakes given humanoid form and they were repugnant in his eyes. They had black vertical pupils in yellow eyes and a forked tongue and wore uniforms that resembled reptilian skin, with sigils that looked to determine rank. He could not identify the ranks but he ranked them no higher than security guards since they had definite military bearing and were alert to everything around them, but they did not say a word, which commanders usually did when dealing with prisoners, well he did anyway. He heard a buzz and a struggle, then silence, and realised that they had actually been able to knock someone out. They dragged a young woman back down the corridor and Yannik heard an anguished scream as someone hammered on the forcefield.
‘Was that your mate?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ the Denobulan answered through clenched teeth.
There was no longer fear in his odour but anger which he categorised as cold rage. This individual would find a way to get out of the cell.
‘What do you know of fighting, Denobulan?’
‘My name is Melex, my race is Denobulan. I used to be a member of Starfleet Command, the exploration and protection arm of the Federation.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘I had seen too much death, so I moved out to this far flung corner of the galaxy with my wife so that we could begin a new, peaceful life.’
Yannik could hear the pain in his voice and heard him moving around in his cell. ‘You left that life behind and now you are contemplating more death.’
‘You’ll learn many things about the Federation and Starfleet, but one of the major tenets, which many races had from their very beginnings back on their own homeworlds before exploring space, was that we never leave our own behind. No matter what. I will die to protect her, as she would me, it is our way. I will break out of this cell and I will rescue her. If these aliens have to die in the process, then so be it.’
‘That doesn’t sound very enlightened, it sounds like revenge.’
‘It is revenge, one of the basest humanoid emotions.’
‘But you will do it anyway?’
‘Yes.’
‘Than you will need help,’ Yannik replied and placed his claws against the forcefield. He knew that they would not conduct the electrical current. It would hurt but there was something greater in its purpose and he did not intend to rot in this cell for the rest of his life.
‘What are you doing?’ Melex asked.
‘I am making sure that you do not die alone,’ Yannik replied.
He knew that this was almost against the character that everyone saw in him, but he had not had a fight that truly filled him with purpose for some time. Gexin and the Ynelavii were just an enemy, what he really wanted was an adversary. The last real adversary which he faced was his cousin’s army decades ago. He had been successful and his cousin’s feral gang fled from Resoto homeworld to take refuge somewhere else, he knew not where. The forcefield flickered and wavered as Yannik’s claws began to ache. He could withhold a significant level of pain but the electrical energy was beginning to affect him and he howled in agony, just as the forcefield collapsed in sparks.
The Resoto leader collapsed on the floor and felt someone lifting him. He looked up into the face that seemed similar to that of the young woman dragged off earlier. ‘Melex?’
‘You have fulfilled your part of the mission, my friend, now let me do mine.’
‘We’re coming with you,’ a chorus of voices echoed and Yannik realised that his efforts had released all the prisoners.
Unknown Alien Vessel
Kursican sector
Stardate 55262.5 (April 6, 2378)
Yannik woke up in a cell and howled.
His articulated paws tested the strange energy field at the front of the cell and he received a jolt of electricity that caused all his hair to stand on end. He looked around the cell, saw nothing that he could use to escape and then pushed his wet nose as close to the forcefield as possible without getting it scorched. There were other cells, all with unusual aliens which looked more like the Ynelavii than the Resoto. Yannik sniffed the air and almost retched, the humanoid smells of fear were strong. Fear was not something he generally ascribed to, even in this situation, but he was feeling a little trepidation.
‘Can anyone hear me?’ he asked.
‘I’m the only one who understands you, but we can all hear you,’ a voice replied in what sounded like his own language but somewhat accented.
‘Are you Resoto?’
‘No, I’m Denobulan, from the United Federation of Planets. Were you kidnapped in the battle?’
‘My ship was destroyed and my crew killed,’ Yannik growled. ‘Do you know who is responsible?’
‘I was taken from my home with a woman by two aliens that looked like reptiles.’
‘That is who destroyed my ship. What do they want?’
‘I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait around to find out. Whenever they come for you, fight like you’ve never fought before.’
Yannik grinned, his sharp teeth all visible. ‘I will take great pleasure in ripping out their throats.’
‘Do whatever you have to,’ the Denobulan replied. ‘My father is a Federation diplomat. He will send Starfleet out here and whoever these aliens are will be sorry they ever heard of us.’
‘Federation,’ Yannik muttered. ‘I guess Gexin was right, damned Ynelavii Intelligence.’
‘Who?’
‘An enemy of mine, our peoples have been fighting for many years but she was the only one I could send a distress call to when the aliens attacked. She has this foolish notion that we should ally ourselves with other local races and form an alliance.’
The alien chuckled. ‘That is what the Federation is all about. We are a collection of over a hundred and fifty races all working together.’
Yannik listened to the Denobulan and then his ears pricked up. ‘Quiet,’ he hissed. ‘Someone is coming.’
There were indeed footsteps coming closer and Yannik saw the aliens clearly as they passed his cell. Both of them looked like snakes given humanoid form and they were repugnant in his eyes. They had black vertical pupils in yellow eyes and a forked tongue and wore uniforms that resembled reptilian skin, with sigils that looked to determine rank. He could not identify the ranks but he ranked them no higher than security guards since they had definite military bearing and were alert to everything around them, but they did not say a word, which commanders usually did when dealing with prisoners, well he did anyway. He heard a buzz and a struggle, then silence, and realised that they had actually been able to knock someone out. They dragged a young woman back down the corridor and Yannik heard an anguished scream as someone hammered on the forcefield.
‘Was that your mate?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ the Denobulan answered through clenched teeth.
There was no longer fear in his odour but anger which he categorised as cold rage. This individual would find a way to get out of the cell.
‘What do you know of fighting, Denobulan?’
‘My name is Melex, my race is Denobulan. I used to be a member of Starfleet Command, the exploration and protection arm of the Federation.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘I had seen too much death, so I moved out to this far flung corner of the galaxy with my wife so that we could begin a new, peaceful life.’
Yannik could hear the pain in his voice and heard him moving around in his cell. ‘You left that life behind and now you are contemplating more death.’
‘You’ll learn many things about the Federation and Starfleet, but one of the major tenets, which many races had from their very beginnings back on their own homeworlds before exploring space, was that we never leave our own behind. No matter what. I will die to protect her, as she would me, it is our way. I will break out of this cell and I will rescue her. If these aliens have to die in the process, then so be it.’
‘That doesn’t sound very enlightened, it sounds like revenge.’
‘It is revenge, one of the basest humanoid emotions.’
‘But you will do it anyway?’
‘Yes.’
‘Than you will need help,’ Yannik replied and placed his claws against the forcefield. He knew that they would not conduct the electrical current. It would hurt but there was something greater in its purpose and he did not intend to rot in this cell for the rest of his life.
‘What are you doing?’ Melex asked.
‘I am making sure that you do not die alone,’ Yannik replied.
He knew that this was almost against the character that everyone saw in him, but he had not had a fight that truly filled him with purpose for some time. Gexin and the Ynelavii were just an enemy, what he really wanted was an adversary. The last real adversary which he faced was his cousin’s army decades ago. He had been successful and his cousin’s feral gang fled from Resoto homeworld to take refuge somewhere else, he knew not where. The forcefield flickered and wavered as Yannik’s claws began to ache. He could withhold a significant level of pain but the electrical energy was beginning to affect him and he howled in agony, just as the forcefield collapsed in sparks.
The Resoto leader collapsed on the floor and felt someone lifting him. He looked up into the face that seemed similar to that of the young woman dragged off earlier. ‘Melex?’
‘You have fulfilled your part of the mission, my friend, now let me do mine.’
‘We’re coming with you,’ a chorus of voices echoed and Yannik realised that his efforts had released all the prisoners.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Unknown Alien Vessel
Kursican sector
Stardate 55262.6 (April 6, 2378)
Yannik recognised some of the races, including a Ynelavii couple, but he ignored them and looked at the others. Most of them were from the races that First Prime Gexin convinced to sign the Gethsemane Accords, a supplementary document to the Treaty of Gethsemane, which existed between the two of them alone. These aliens had collected all the species for a zoo.
Melex spoke to everyone present. ‘They will likely have weapons, and it will be dangerous.’
‘More dangerous than waiting for them to take us away?’ one of the aliens asked, a species the High Lord recognised as Coorlon. ‘I don’t know about you, but I wish to return home to my family and my farm.’
‘Let’s go.’
‘Not without me, you don’t,’ Yannik said as he pulled himself up and shook himself off. ‘I will go ahead and leave the way clear.’
‘We have to find out where they are holding my wife.’
‘I will leave one survivor.’
Melex nodded curtly and Yannik dropped to all fours before bounding out of the still open door. ‘We need to be ready.’
‘Where do we go?’ asked the Coorlon man.
‘Follow the screams,’ Melex answered wryly and headed out the door, followed by over thirty aliens of more than twenty races.
Yannik skidded into two reptilian guards who were too surprised to react but they recovered in time to draw their weapons. The Resoto leader was faster and shredded their jugulars before they could fire. Leaving the weapons where they were, he ran down another corridor and tore the arm off another alien, leaving him alive as promised. The taste of their blood was disgusting, but his teeth were his most powerful weapon and he intended to use them to the best of their ability. Every corridor looked the same and he was getting lost. He sniffed the air and grinned, the other prisoners were getting closer and the alert status had been initiated. The aliens knew that their prisoners were loose.
Eight guards suddenly appeared ahead of him and he knew that he would never be able to kill them all before they fired. Their weapons looked like primitive projectile pistols but they emitted some kind of sonic stun that incapacitated. It hurt like hell to his sensitive ears but it was better than the electrical stun from the cell forcefield. None of the aliens fired, but they didn’t move to intercept either. It was as if they were waiting for something. Yannik strained his hearing to pick up sounds but all he could hear was an incessant clicking. Someone was giving the reptiles their orders, and they were the ones he wanted. The ones giving the orders, the ones who ordered him kidnapped. The guards backed away slowly and Yannik made a run for them, wondering what was happening. He saw a bulkhead coming down in front of them and tried to get under it but couldn’t.
The bulkhead prevented him from attacking and he knew without turning round that another bulkhead and slammed into place behind him. He was trapped. Yannik considered his position and guessed that the others were also being trapped in a similar manner. When a fine mist began raining down on him he howled and curled into a foetal position to limit his exposure to whatever they were trying to do to him. Backing up as slowly as the guards had, Yannik reached the other bulkhead and looked around. There was a door to his left and there appeared to be no forcefield. He approached it and stood up; coughing at the mist he was unable to stop inhaling.
Touching the plate beside the door, he was surprised when it opened and quickly entered. The door closed behind him and he saw the young woman the guards dragged away earlier. There was no one else in the room and he padded over to her. She was unconscious but still breathing. Monitors around the room showed other people lying on beds similar to hers and with information scrolling across. He couldn’t read any of it but had an inkling about what he was seeing. This room and others like it were laboratories for experimenting on living beings, though for what purpose he couldn’t fathom. There were other doors and he hoped to find a way out before the aliens showed up to continue their experiments. He considered trying to rescue her but he wouldn’t be able to carry her and be an effective weapon.
‘Glad you made it out of the gas,’ Melex said, entering the room from another door. ‘And you found my wife too, thanks.’
Melex was covered in blood, as were the others that followed him in. The blood was different colours, the red of the reptilians and Melex, the purple of the Ynelavii and the blues and greens of the other races. They had clearly been involved in heavy fighting, but apparently all had survived their encounters, some barely.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Yannik asked. ‘My preference is the control centre.’
‘Ordinarily, I would agree, but I want to get off this ship, not steal it.’
‘What about finding out who these aliens are that have been kidnapping people from across the sector?’ Yannik asked.
Melex pulled the straps from his wife’s unconscious body and lifted her onto his shoulders. ‘You can find out who they are, I’m finding a shuttle or escape pod and getting out of here.’
‘Running isn’t honourable.’
‘Neither is dying.’
Yannik grinned again. ‘Let’s find out who these aliens are and then get out of here, alive. This ship could help my people and yours.’
Melex considered the idea. ‘All right, the control centre it is, but we’ll need more weapons.’
‘No problem with that,’ one of the other aliens replied, a Heklian. ‘There’s a weapons cache in here.’
Yannik and Melex strolled over. There were a dozen pistols and half a dozen rifles of similar design. ‘I’d say we have the advantage now.’
‘They still have the home field advantage,’ Melex said. ‘This is their ship.’
Yannik nodded. ‘True, but they do not seem completely prepared for a prisoner break out.’
Unknown Alien Vessel
Kursican sector
Stardate 55262.6 (April 6, 2378)
Yannik recognised some of the races, including a Ynelavii couple, but he ignored them and looked at the others. Most of them were from the races that First Prime Gexin convinced to sign the Gethsemane Accords, a supplementary document to the Treaty of Gethsemane, which existed between the two of them alone. These aliens had collected all the species for a zoo.
Melex spoke to everyone present. ‘They will likely have weapons, and it will be dangerous.’
‘More dangerous than waiting for them to take us away?’ one of the aliens asked, a species the High Lord recognised as Coorlon. ‘I don’t know about you, but I wish to return home to my family and my farm.’
‘Let’s go.’
‘Not without me, you don’t,’ Yannik said as he pulled himself up and shook himself off. ‘I will go ahead and leave the way clear.’
‘We have to find out where they are holding my wife.’
‘I will leave one survivor.’
Melex nodded curtly and Yannik dropped to all fours before bounding out of the still open door. ‘We need to be ready.’
‘Where do we go?’ asked the Coorlon man.
‘Follow the screams,’ Melex answered wryly and headed out the door, followed by over thirty aliens of more than twenty races.
Yannik skidded into two reptilian guards who were too surprised to react but they recovered in time to draw their weapons. The Resoto leader was faster and shredded their jugulars before they could fire. Leaving the weapons where they were, he ran down another corridor and tore the arm off another alien, leaving him alive as promised. The taste of their blood was disgusting, but his teeth were his most powerful weapon and he intended to use them to the best of their ability. Every corridor looked the same and he was getting lost. He sniffed the air and grinned, the other prisoners were getting closer and the alert status had been initiated. The aliens knew that their prisoners were loose.
Eight guards suddenly appeared ahead of him and he knew that he would never be able to kill them all before they fired. Their weapons looked like primitive projectile pistols but they emitted some kind of sonic stun that incapacitated. It hurt like hell to his sensitive ears but it was better than the electrical stun from the cell forcefield. None of the aliens fired, but they didn’t move to intercept either. It was as if they were waiting for something. Yannik strained his hearing to pick up sounds but all he could hear was an incessant clicking. Someone was giving the reptiles their orders, and they were the ones he wanted. The ones giving the orders, the ones who ordered him kidnapped. The guards backed away slowly and Yannik made a run for them, wondering what was happening. He saw a bulkhead coming down in front of them and tried to get under it but couldn’t.
The bulkhead prevented him from attacking and he knew without turning round that another bulkhead and slammed into place behind him. He was trapped. Yannik considered his position and guessed that the others were also being trapped in a similar manner. When a fine mist began raining down on him he howled and curled into a foetal position to limit his exposure to whatever they were trying to do to him. Backing up as slowly as the guards had, Yannik reached the other bulkhead and looked around. There was a door to his left and there appeared to be no forcefield. He approached it and stood up; coughing at the mist he was unable to stop inhaling.
Touching the plate beside the door, he was surprised when it opened and quickly entered. The door closed behind him and he saw the young woman the guards dragged away earlier. There was no one else in the room and he padded over to her. She was unconscious but still breathing. Monitors around the room showed other people lying on beds similar to hers and with information scrolling across. He couldn’t read any of it but had an inkling about what he was seeing. This room and others like it were laboratories for experimenting on living beings, though for what purpose he couldn’t fathom. There were other doors and he hoped to find a way out before the aliens showed up to continue their experiments. He considered trying to rescue her but he wouldn’t be able to carry her and be an effective weapon.
‘Glad you made it out of the gas,’ Melex said, entering the room from another door. ‘And you found my wife too, thanks.’
Melex was covered in blood, as were the others that followed him in. The blood was different colours, the red of the reptilians and Melex, the purple of the Ynelavii and the blues and greens of the other races. They had clearly been involved in heavy fighting, but apparently all had survived their encounters, some barely.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Yannik asked. ‘My preference is the control centre.’
‘Ordinarily, I would agree, but I want to get off this ship, not steal it.’
‘What about finding out who these aliens are that have been kidnapping people from across the sector?’ Yannik asked.
Melex pulled the straps from his wife’s unconscious body and lifted her onto his shoulders. ‘You can find out who they are, I’m finding a shuttle or escape pod and getting out of here.’
‘Running isn’t honourable.’
‘Neither is dying.’
Yannik grinned again. ‘Let’s find out who these aliens are and then get out of here, alive. This ship could help my people and yours.’
Melex considered the idea. ‘All right, the control centre it is, but we’ll need more weapons.’
‘No problem with that,’ one of the other aliens replied, a Heklian. ‘There’s a weapons cache in here.’
Yannik and Melex strolled over. There were a dozen pistols and half a dozen rifles of similar design. ‘I’d say we have the advantage now.’
‘They still have the home field advantage,’ Melex said. ‘This is their ship.’
Yannik nodded. ‘True, but they do not seem completely prepared for a prisoner break out.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Unknown Alien Vessel
Kursican sector
Stardate 55262.7 (April 6, 2378)
Yannik took point and the other filed out of the lab behind him. The corridors were empty and the bulkheads had been raised. Only the slightest whiff of the gas was still present and there were no guards to be seen. He sniffed and could not even tell whether any guards were approaching. Melex followed close behind, his body radiating fear pheromones, but he was determined. The group came to the end of a corridor and for once there were no branches leading elsewhere, only a door.
‘A turbolift,’ Melex said, ‘possibly leading to the control centre. We won’t all be able to fit.’
‘Why is there a turbolift here when the rest of the ship we’ve seen has staircases?’ Yannik asked.
‘To provide extra security for the control centre,’ Melex suggested.
‘We’ll go in two groups,’ Yannik replied. ‘That way, if the first are killed, the second have a chance at taking over the ship.’
Melex agreed, having decided that his wife would actually want to know what had happened, and he wanted to have something to tell her. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, touching the plate beside the door.
It opened but there was no turbolift. It was in fact the control centre they had reached, without guards. Melex and Yannik, standing upright, fired at the aliens, dropping them before they had a chance to fire. Staring at them without making a move was an Insectoid that resembled a Terran cockroach grown to humanoid proportions.
Melex stepped forward, holding his weapon steady. ‘Who are you?’
The alien made a move for a console by its side and Melex fired the pistol at the console. It shorted out. ‘I’ll ask you again, who are you?’
The Insectoid replied with clicks. Melex’s Starfleet-issue universal translator was unable to render the speech into anything intelligible, though the alien clearly was a sentient life form.
‘We need to communicate with them,’ one of the aliens replied.
‘No we don’t,’ Yannik muttered and fired at the insectoid. It shattered, blood and carapace going everywhere.
‘There was no need for that.’
‘Yes, there was,’ the Resoto leader said. ‘This vessel is now under the command of the Resoto Hegemony. I want any of the Insectoids and Reptilians still living on this ship imprisoned in the cells. Then we’ll figure out the shields, weapons and engines and return to Resoto territory.’
‘And what of us?’ Melex asked. ‘We’re not Resoto. I wish to return home.’
‘And you will, but right now, we need to get this ship fully under our control.’
‘Fine, then I will work on the communications system so I can send a message to my people.’
‘I cannot permit that.’
Melex puffed his face up in anger. ‘I will be returning home and you will assist in that endeavour.'
'Why would I do that when I am clearly in control?'
'My people have greater experience in dealing with unknown alien vessels. They will be able to learn the secrets of the vessel quickly.’
‘What will happen to us?’
‘You will all be returned to your homeworlds, unharmed.’
‘And the others held prisoner here?’
‘Will be released and returned home.’
‘I wouldn’t suggest that,’ the Heklian woman said. ‘I am a doctor on my homeworld. I think that we were allowed to escape and do this exact thing. If your wife has been experimented on, they may have infected her with a disease that will kill all of your people. If any of us return home we could annihilate our entire populations. Can your people help us there?’
Melex nodded. ‘They can, but I'll need to communicate with them as a priority if she has been infected with any virus.’
‘Very well,' Yannik replied. 'I want the rest of you to find any of the aliens that are still aboard.’
Melex went directly to what he thought was the communications console but it turned out to be the weapons console. The Coorlon man went to stand by it, as if he was intimately familiar with it. Melex considered the possibility that a weapons console was the same no matter what culture you came from. The next was communications and Melex entered his family's diplomatic code. It was on a scrambled frequency which would be picked up by the nearest Federation or allied vessel.
'I need to know our coordinates to send the message,' he said to Yannik.
The High Lord narrowed his eyes. 'Give them to him. If you trick me, you will be the first to die.'
'I want to keep everyone safe, that's all.'
The message was simple and to the point without giving anything away. All they had to do now was wait.
'You've sent your message, now go and help secure this vessel.'
Melex nodded and headed out of the control centre, grabbing a rifle as he did so. As he stalked the corridors, his Starfleet training came back to him and he noticed the subtle vibrations of the deck as feet pounded along it. He held his rifle at the ready as a phalanx of Reptilian guards halted less than ten metres in front of him.
'Surrender and survive and or die now.'
The lead Reptilian smiled. 'None of you will make it off this vessel alive. We will not surrender,' he added and raised his own rifle.
'Your funeral,' Melex replied as he cut them down, avoiding the three shots they managed to get off.
He surveyed the dead and sighed. This was exactly the reason he left Starfleet but it seemed as though he was destined to be followed by death wherever he went. At least this time he was fighting for a singular purpose, not just for himself but for his wife and a probable family as well.
Unknown Alien Vessel
Kursican sector
Stardate 55262.7 (April 6, 2378)
Yannik took point and the other filed out of the lab behind him. The corridors were empty and the bulkheads had been raised. Only the slightest whiff of the gas was still present and there were no guards to be seen. He sniffed and could not even tell whether any guards were approaching. Melex followed close behind, his body radiating fear pheromones, but he was determined. The group came to the end of a corridor and for once there were no branches leading elsewhere, only a door.
‘A turbolift,’ Melex said, ‘possibly leading to the control centre. We won’t all be able to fit.’
‘Why is there a turbolift here when the rest of the ship we’ve seen has staircases?’ Yannik asked.
‘To provide extra security for the control centre,’ Melex suggested.
‘We’ll go in two groups,’ Yannik replied. ‘That way, if the first are killed, the second have a chance at taking over the ship.’
Melex agreed, having decided that his wife would actually want to know what had happened, and he wanted to have something to tell her. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, touching the plate beside the door.
It opened but there was no turbolift. It was in fact the control centre they had reached, without guards. Melex and Yannik, standing upright, fired at the aliens, dropping them before they had a chance to fire. Staring at them without making a move was an Insectoid that resembled a Terran cockroach grown to humanoid proportions.
Melex stepped forward, holding his weapon steady. ‘Who are you?’
The alien made a move for a console by its side and Melex fired the pistol at the console. It shorted out. ‘I’ll ask you again, who are you?’
The Insectoid replied with clicks. Melex’s Starfleet-issue universal translator was unable to render the speech into anything intelligible, though the alien clearly was a sentient life form.
‘We need to communicate with them,’ one of the aliens replied.
‘No we don’t,’ Yannik muttered and fired at the insectoid. It shattered, blood and carapace going everywhere.
‘There was no need for that.’
‘Yes, there was,’ the Resoto leader said. ‘This vessel is now under the command of the Resoto Hegemony. I want any of the Insectoids and Reptilians still living on this ship imprisoned in the cells. Then we’ll figure out the shields, weapons and engines and return to Resoto territory.’
‘And what of us?’ Melex asked. ‘We’re not Resoto. I wish to return home.’
‘And you will, but right now, we need to get this ship fully under our control.’
‘Fine, then I will work on the communications system so I can send a message to my people.’
‘I cannot permit that.’
Melex puffed his face up in anger. ‘I will be returning home and you will assist in that endeavour.'
'Why would I do that when I am clearly in control?'
'My people have greater experience in dealing with unknown alien vessels. They will be able to learn the secrets of the vessel quickly.’
‘What will happen to us?’
‘You will all be returned to your homeworlds, unharmed.’
‘And the others held prisoner here?’
‘Will be released and returned home.’
‘I wouldn’t suggest that,’ the Heklian woman said. ‘I am a doctor on my homeworld. I think that we were allowed to escape and do this exact thing. If your wife has been experimented on, they may have infected her with a disease that will kill all of your people. If any of us return home we could annihilate our entire populations. Can your people help us there?’
Melex nodded. ‘They can, but I'll need to communicate with them as a priority if she has been infected with any virus.’
‘Very well,' Yannik replied. 'I want the rest of you to find any of the aliens that are still aboard.’
Melex went directly to what he thought was the communications console but it turned out to be the weapons console. The Coorlon man went to stand by it, as if he was intimately familiar with it. Melex considered the possibility that a weapons console was the same no matter what culture you came from. The next was communications and Melex entered his family's diplomatic code. It was on a scrambled frequency which would be picked up by the nearest Federation or allied vessel.
'I need to know our coordinates to send the message,' he said to Yannik.
The High Lord narrowed his eyes. 'Give them to him. If you trick me, you will be the first to die.'
'I want to keep everyone safe, that's all.'
The message was simple and to the point without giving anything away. All they had to do now was wait.
'You've sent your message, now go and help secure this vessel.'
Melex nodded and headed out of the control centre, grabbing a rifle as he did so. As he stalked the corridors, his Starfleet training came back to him and he noticed the subtle vibrations of the deck as feet pounded along it. He held his rifle at the ready as a phalanx of Reptilian guards halted less than ten metres in front of him.
'Surrender and survive and or die now.'
The lead Reptilian smiled. 'None of you will make it off this vessel alive. We will not surrender,' he added and raised his own rifle.
'Your funeral,' Melex replied as he cut them down, avoiding the three shots they managed to get off.
He surveyed the dead and sighed. This was exactly the reason he left Starfleet but it seemed as though he was destined to be followed by death wherever he went. At least this time he was fighting for a singular purpose, not just for himself but for his wife and a probable family as well.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ynelavii Cruiser Oxelus
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55262.8 (April 6, 2378)
Miles Murdoch sat up and smacked his head on the bunk. The Ynelavii weren’t that much shorter than the average human but they were short enough, none of the ones he had seen coming up past his shoulder. The ship was the size of a medium-range Starfleet ship and travelled in some kind of faster-than-light capacity, that much was obvious. He had been well looked after, though the female guard assigned to him spent more time staring at him than at anything else. It was a little gratifying, since his last relationship ended rather abruptly a few months before. He had lost everything, his ship and his supplies. Everything that he had worked hard to build had suddenly gone, and all because of the unknown aliens spreading like a cancer through this sector.
Murdoch watched the small screen on his tricorder, the only evidence he had of the alien attack on his ship. All he had were the clothes he wore and the stolen Starfleet-issue phaser, tricorder and communicator—with spare power packs for each. His cabin was small and utilitarian, containing a bed, chair, desk and computer terminal. The commander of the vessel had allowed him to access the ship’s database so that he might learn about their culture without nagging the guard, or other members of the crew. What he had been able to translate and learn so far was interesting to say the least. Whereas humans had discovered space travel themselves after a war amongst old nation states, the Ynelavii had been given it—according to legend—and their benefactors had then left the primitive populace to their own devices.
The Ynelavii spent many years adapting the technology for comfort and when they did finally make the move into space, they were attacked by the Resoto Hegemony. The Ynelavii then turned their attention to war and the two races had been fighting ever since. Murdoch turned his attention to the Ynelavii’s more interesting cultural aspects and learned of their religion which was split down two main branches, the mainstream Nelanii sect and the Seer sect which was ridiculed and seen as an improper heretical sect. Murdoch remembered old Earth religions being like that before the end of the third world war when all religions were granted equal status by consensus and later by law once the planet was united.
The door chimed and he hid his tricorder in the carry-sack he’d taken with him in the escape pod. ‘Come in.’
The female guard, Beqan, entered and paused two steps into the cabin. ‘General Allak requests your presence in the CIC.’
Murdoch nodded. ‘Lead the way.’
As the woman led him down corridors, he reflected on the fact that he had denied himself the real Starfleet existence when he had joined the Intelligence community. Since then he had drifted around from assignment to assignment, not making many friends, even when he was working with small crews. After his uncle’s death, he'd taken more dangerous missions but had never come close to having his cover broken or losing his life. This mission was different in that he'd been asked essentially to go in the clear, with little backup and nothing more than an upgraded freighter to protect him from this extreme region of space. He'd come to this sector two years before, and knew only that the mission was at the behest of Starfleet Tactical who couldn't go to Starfleet Operations and request a vessel since the only information they had was sketchy at best.
Murdoch had quickly learned about the kidnappings and informed his superiors who then asked him to keep his eyes and ears open. Everything went belly up when the Federation ambassador's son was taken by the aliens. Starfleet fast-tracked the Plat into an operational Starbase and he had to work under greater scrutiny, including divulging part of his true mission to the sector commander. It wasn’t a great life, but the colonists were always willing to share a meal for a story or gossip about the core worlds, and he enjoyed being part of civilisation again, even if it was only on the fringes. On his way to New Bolarus he gets attacked and everything spirals into nothingness. Miles Murdoch ends up back where he started ten years before, with nothing but his mission.
They reached the CIC and Beqan stepped aside for Murdoch to enter. His first impression was of a war room, charts and screens everywhere. There were similarities to Starfleet bridges, and those of other races, most especially Romulan ones. General Allak sat in the throne-like chair at the centre of the CIC and turned the chair to face the newcomer.
‘Welcome, Mister Murdoch. I presume you slept well.’
‘As well as can be expected, thank you, General.’
‘We’re still tracking the vessel that attacked you, and they appear to have slowed down. Their course has also become somewhat erratic.’
‘Perhaps they are having trouble with their engines. We could ask if they require assistance,’ Murdoch replied sardonically.
Allak laughed. ‘I like your style, but I doubt they would accept it. At our current relativistic speeds, we should catch up to them in approximately two hours.’
Murdoch nodded. ‘I would like to be part of the team you send over.’
Allak frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘When my people catch up to an alien vessel in this situation we board it to recover our people and the crew into custody.’
‘We will destroy the vessel,’ Allak replied simply.
‘What about the Ynelavii on board? The aliens have kidnapped several people from the region, have they not?’
Allak turned to Beqan who nodded. ‘Yes, they have. But my orders are to prevent any more people being kidnapped.’
‘What of the intelligence and technology you could gain by taking the ship as your own?’
This gave the general pause and turned to his executive officer. ‘Colonel, prepare a boarding party.’
‘Sir, our orders…’
‘Were to stop the vessel at all costs, and I intend to obey those orders. The First Prime left the minutiae of the mission at my discretion, Colonel. Mister Murdoch makes a good point. We might finally be able to win this never-ending war with the Resoto with that vessel.’
Ynelavii Cruiser Oxelus
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55262.8 (April 6, 2378)
Miles Murdoch sat up and smacked his head on the bunk. The Ynelavii weren’t that much shorter than the average human but they were short enough, none of the ones he had seen coming up past his shoulder. The ship was the size of a medium-range Starfleet ship and travelled in some kind of faster-than-light capacity, that much was obvious. He had been well looked after, though the female guard assigned to him spent more time staring at him than at anything else. It was a little gratifying, since his last relationship ended rather abruptly a few months before. He had lost everything, his ship and his supplies. Everything that he had worked hard to build had suddenly gone, and all because of the unknown aliens spreading like a cancer through this sector.
Murdoch watched the small screen on his tricorder, the only evidence he had of the alien attack on his ship. All he had were the clothes he wore and the stolen Starfleet-issue phaser, tricorder and communicator—with spare power packs for each. His cabin was small and utilitarian, containing a bed, chair, desk and computer terminal. The commander of the vessel had allowed him to access the ship’s database so that he might learn about their culture without nagging the guard, or other members of the crew. What he had been able to translate and learn so far was interesting to say the least. Whereas humans had discovered space travel themselves after a war amongst old nation states, the Ynelavii had been given it—according to legend—and their benefactors had then left the primitive populace to their own devices.
The Ynelavii spent many years adapting the technology for comfort and when they did finally make the move into space, they were attacked by the Resoto Hegemony. The Ynelavii then turned their attention to war and the two races had been fighting ever since. Murdoch turned his attention to the Ynelavii’s more interesting cultural aspects and learned of their religion which was split down two main branches, the mainstream Nelanii sect and the Seer sect which was ridiculed and seen as an improper heretical sect. Murdoch remembered old Earth religions being like that before the end of the third world war when all religions were granted equal status by consensus and later by law once the planet was united.
The door chimed and he hid his tricorder in the carry-sack he’d taken with him in the escape pod. ‘Come in.’
The female guard, Beqan, entered and paused two steps into the cabin. ‘General Allak requests your presence in the CIC.’
Murdoch nodded. ‘Lead the way.’
As the woman led him down corridors, he reflected on the fact that he had denied himself the real Starfleet existence when he had joined the Intelligence community. Since then he had drifted around from assignment to assignment, not making many friends, even when he was working with small crews. After his uncle’s death, he'd taken more dangerous missions but had never come close to having his cover broken or losing his life. This mission was different in that he'd been asked essentially to go in the clear, with little backup and nothing more than an upgraded freighter to protect him from this extreme region of space. He'd come to this sector two years before, and knew only that the mission was at the behest of Starfleet Tactical who couldn't go to Starfleet Operations and request a vessel since the only information they had was sketchy at best.
Murdoch had quickly learned about the kidnappings and informed his superiors who then asked him to keep his eyes and ears open. Everything went belly up when the Federation ambassador's son was taken by the aliens. Starfleet fast-tracked the Plat into an operational Starbase and he had to work under greater scrutiny, including divulging part of his true mission to the sector commander. It wasn’t a great life, but the colonists were always willing to share a meal for a story or gossip about the core worlds, and he enjoyed being part of civilisation again, even if it was only on the fringes. On his way to New Bolarus he gets attacked and everything spirals into nothingness. Miles Murdoch ends up back where he started ten years before, with nothing but his mission.
They reached the CIC and Beqan stepped aside for Murdoch to enter. His first impression was of a war room, charts and screens everywhere. There were similarities to Starfleet bridges, and those of other races, most especially Romulan ones. General Allak sat in the throne-like chair at the centre of the CIC and turned the chair to face the newcomer.
‘Welcome, Mister Murdoch. I presume you slept well.’
‘As well as can be expected, thank you, General.’
‘We’re still tracking the vessel that attacked you, and they appear to have slowed down. Their course has also become somewhat erratic.’
‘Perhaps they are having trouble with their engines. We could ask if they require assistance,’ Murdoch replied sardonically.
Allak laughed. ‘I like your style, but I doubt they would accept it. At our current relativistic speeds, we should catch up to them in approximately two hours.’
Murdoch nodded. ‘I would like to be part of the team you send over.’
Allak frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘When my people catch up to an alien vessel in this situation we board it to recover our people and the crew into custody.’
‘We will destroy the vessel,’ Allak replied simply.
‘What about the Ynelavii on board? The aliens have kidnapped several people from the region, have they not?’
Allak turned to Beqan who nodded. ‘Yes, they have. But my orders are to prevent any more people being kidnapped.’
‘What of the intelligence and technology you could gain by taking the ship as your own?’
This gave the general pause and turned to his executive officer. ‘Colonel, prepare a boarding party.’
‘Sir, our orders…’
‘Were to stop the vessel at all costs, and I intend to obey those orders. The First Prime left the minutiae of the mission at my discretion, Colonel. Mister Murdoch makes a good point. We might finally be able to win this never-ending war with the Resoto with that vessel.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ynelavii Cruiser Oxelus
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55262.9 (April 6, 2378)
Murdoch sighed. It was not what he had intended to suggest but it did allow him to be part of that boarding party. ‘I would still like to go aboard that vessel.’
They stared at each other for a long moment. ‘Very well, Colonel Ferok will lead the team and you will follow his orders.’
Murdoch nodded acquiescence but he intended to follow his own agenda. That vessel would make a nice trophy for Commander Logan and Starfleet, and finally allow him to complete his mission and return home. ‘Thank you, General.’
‘He’ll be watching you.’
‘General, the vessel has changed course, it has now reversed heading.’
‘Time to intercept?’
‘One hour and twelve minutes.’
‘Can we get any more speed out of the hyperlight engines?’
‘Unlikely, sir. The engineer has already pushed them sixteen percent above maximum.’
Allak returned his gaze to the stars streaming past. ‘Mister Murdoch, tell me what you know of this region.’
‘General?’
‘You run a freighter through the sector and have dealings with colonies and this Federation and Starfleet. So, tell me what you know.’
‘I know about the colonies and the Starfleet vessels that frequent the sector, but I keep my business to myself, so I don’t get into trouble. It’s the reason I’m out here in the first place.’
‘Since we have a little time, why don’t we get to know each other? Tell me about yourself, Mister Murdoch.’
Murdoch knew that he couldn’t refuse and told the general of his life story, carefully concealing some of the more classified missions. When he had finished, he could see the eyes of the CIC officers boring into him.
‘They don’t approve of your actions,’ Allak said simply. 'Your actions caused a lot of suffering for a lot of people.'
‘I have accepted the responsibility for that. Most of the people I knew didn’t approve,’ Murdoch replied. ‘But in the long term what I have done has benefited a great number of people. My information led to the truth, no matter how much it hurt those involved.’
Allak smiled. ‘You appear to have changed since those days, Mister Murdoch, but there is still something about you that I do not trust.’
‘I never trust me, General, I’ve learned not to over the years.’
‘General, the alien vessel is entering visual range.’
‘Let’s have a look at it.’
Murdoch almost did a double take when he saw it on the CIC monitors. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought he was seeing a vessel from Starfleet’s past. The alien vessel which had terrorised this sector resembled—at least superficially—the Olympic-class starship, which itself was based on the old Daedalus-class starships of the late twenty-second and early twenty-third centuries. The alien vessel had a massive tubular secondary hull and spherical primary hull. It didn't have nacelles jutting out at odd angles, but a complex sequence of boosters much old Earth rockets. It wasn't quite identical, as though the designers had taken it apart and put it back together without looking at the instructions. After seeing it, he really did want to get aboard and see what the inside looked like.
He was aware of Allak looking at him but there was nothing he could say, it was a starship very similar in design to that of a Federation vessel, but at the same time, it wasn’t.
'Do you recognise it, Mister Murdoch?'
'Superficially, General, there are design similarities to Federation vessels, but this is much larger. I estimate that this is more than four times the size of our largest vessel, with proportionate increases in defensive and offensive capabilities.'
Allak narrowed his eyes. 'That was a tactical description.'
'Yes sir, it was. I am a well-rounded individual with many talents. I have to know what battles I can win and when to run. It's served me well thus far.'
The General smiled thinly. 'Perhaps so, but you are deceiving me. I don't know how much you have told me is true and how much is falsehood.'
Murdoch sighed. 'Would you tell a man you'd just met, and the military leader of a foreign power, the complete truth, or would you hide some of it?'
'I would hide some of the truth, but you have hidden much of it.'
'I am Lieutenant Commander Miles Murdoch, Starfleet Intelligence.'
'Which explains why you know so much about this region, more than a mere freighter captain,' Colonel Ferok replied. 'Did you tell us the truth about that?'
'As much as I felt I could without revealing any classified information.'
Ferok took a step toward him but Allak waved his exec back. 'You would have done the same, Colonel, as would I.'
'I don't want him on the landing party.'
'What you want is irrelevant, Colonel. He will be going with you to make sure his own people are alive and well and to see to their safety. The rest is in your hands.'
'Yes, General.'
Murdoch stood to one side as the alien vessel got closer. He could make out the communications arrays sprouting from several sections of the ship and enough weapons emplacements to give a Sovereign-class starship a headache. Why anyone would build a vessel that large was beyond him. Even the generational vessels he'd seen weren't that big, and they held thousands of people. He immediately latched on to the idea that this was ship was alone for a reason.
'General, I wouldn't suggest boarding that vessel without precautions!'
'Such as?'
'Contamination procedures should be in place. I can see only one reason why a vessel that large is on its own in hostile space. It is intended to be used by the enemy, by us. Either it is designed to take a great many of us with it, or they have done something to the people on board,' Murdoch answered.
'Nonsense!' Ferok retorted.
'Then how do you explain the vessel's erratic behaviour and the fact that it turned round instead of continuing home to wherever it came from?'
'A prisoner revolt is a good thing for us.'
'Not if it was staged, you fool!' Murdoch was now shouting at the colonel.
'Enough!'
Ynelavii Cruiser Oxelus
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55262.9 (April 6, 2378)
Murdoch sighed. It was not what he had intended to suggest but it did allow him to be part of that boarding party. ‘I would still like to go aboard that vessel.’
They stared at each other for a long moment. ‘Very well, Colonel Ferok will lead the team and you will follow his orders.’
Murdoch nodded acquiescence but he intended to follow his own agenda. That vessel would make a nice trophy for Commander Logan and Starfleet, and finally allow him to complete his mission and return home. ‘Thank you, General.’
‘He’ll be watching you.’
‘General, the vessel has changed course, it has now reversed heading.’
‘Time to intercept?’
‘One hour and twelve minutes.’
‘Can we get any more speed out of the hyperlight engines?’
‘Unlikely, sir. The engineer has already pushed them sixteen percent above maximum.’
Allak returned his gaze to the stars streaming past. ‘Mister Murdoch, tell me what you know of this region.’
‘General?’
‘You run a freighter through the sector and have dealings with colonies and this Federation and Starfleet. So, tell me what you know.’
‘I know about the colonies and the Starfleet vessels that frequent the sector, but I keep my business to myself, so I don’t get into trouble. It’s the reason I’m out here in the first place.’
‘Since we have a little time, why don’t we get to know each other? Tell me about yourself, Mister Murdoch.’
Murdoch knew that he couldn’t refuse and told the general of his life story, carefully concealing some of the more classified missions. When he had finished, he could see the eyes of the CIC officers boring into him.
‘They don’t approve of your actions,’ Allak said simply. 'Your actions caused a lot of suffering for a lot of people.'
‘I have accepted the responsibility for that. Most of the people I knew didn’t approve,’ Murdoch replied. ‘But in the long term what I have done has benefited a great number of people. My information led to the truth, no matter how much it hurt those involved.’
Allak smiled. ‘You appear to have changed since those days, Mister Murdoch, but there is still something about you that I do not trust.’
‘I never trust me, General, I’ve learned not to over the years.’
‘General, the alien vessel is entering visual range.’
‘Let’s have a look at it.’
Murdoch almost did a double take when he saw it on the CIC monitors. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought he was seeing a vessel from Starfleet’s past. The alien vessel which had terrorised this sector resembled—at least superficially—the Olympic-class starship, which itself was based on the old Daedalus-class starships of the late twenty-second and early twenty-third centuries. The alien vessel had a massive tubular secondary hull and spherical primary hull. It didn't have nacelles jutting out at odd angles, but a complex sequence of boosters much old Earth rockets. It wasn't quite identical, as though the designers had taken it apart and put it back together without looking at the instructions. After seeing it, he really did want to get aboard and see what the inside looked like.
He was aware of Allak looking at him but there was nothing he could say, it was a starship very similar in design to that of a Federation vessel, but at the same time, it wasn’t.
'Do you recognise it, Mister Murdoch?'
'Superficially, General, there are design similarities to Federation vessels, but this is much larger. I estimate that this is more than four times the size of our largest vessel, with proportionate increases in defensive and offensive capabilities.'
Allak narrowed his eyes. 'That was a tactical description.'
'Yes sir, it was. I am a well-rounded individual with many talents. I have to know what battles I can win and when to run. It's served me well thus far.'
The General smiled thinly. 'Perhaps so, but you are deceiving me. I don't know how much you have told me is true and how much is falsehood.'
Murdoch sighed. 'Would you tell a man you'd just met, and the military leader of a foreign power, the complete truth, or would you hide some of it?'
'I would hide some of the truth, but you have hidden much of it.'
'I am Lieutenant Commander Miles Murdoch, Starfleet Intelligence.'
'Which explains why you know so much about this region, more than a mere freighter captain,' Colonel Ferok replied. 'Did you tell us the truth about that?'
'As much as I felt I could without revealing any classified information.'
Ferok took a step toward him but Allak waved his exec back. 'You would have done the same, Colonel, as would I.'
'I don't want him on the landing party.'
'What you want is irrelevant, Colonel. He will be going with you to make sure his own people are alive and well and to see to their safety. The rest is in your hands.'
'Yes, General.'
Murdoch stood to one side as the alien vessel got closer. He could make out the communications arrays sprouting from several sections of the ship and enough weapons emplacements to give a Sovereign-class starship a headache. Why anyone would build a vessel that large was beyond him. Even the generational vessels he'd seen weren't that big, and they held thousands of people. He immediately latched on to the idea that this was ship was alone for a reason.
'General, I wouldn't suggest boarding that vessel without precautions!'
'Such as?'
'Contamination procedures should be in place. I can see only one reason why a vessel that large is on its own in hostile space. It is intended to be used by the enemy, by us. Either it is designed to take a great many of us with it, or they have done something to the people on board,' Murdoch answered.
'Nonsense!' Ferok retorted.
'Then how do you explain the vessel's erratic behaviour and the fact that it turned round instead of continuing home to wherever it came from?'
'A prisoner revolt is a good thing for us.'
'Not if it was staged, you fool!' Murdoch was now shouting at the colonel.
'Enough!'
I was rooting for Yannik and his companions in their bold escape, but I'd thought it had seemed too easy. Now it appears that may have been the case. It appears the invaders have no hesitation in sacrificing their own troops for the deception.
Here's hoping Murdoch doesn't get himself shot prior to boarding the alien ship. Smart guy, but I think his mouth is a bit too smart for his own good.
Here's hoping Murdoch doesn't get himself shot prior to boarding the alien ship. Smart guy, but I think his mouth is a bit too smart for his own good.
Chapter Twenty-Six
USS Weisskopf
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55263.1 (April 7, 2378)
Gregory Drummond did not look peaceful. His face was a grimace of pain and Doctor Vallejo had informed Dhrex that any more medication would most likely kill him instead of helping him fight off whatever he was fighting. Dhrex sat by the biobed listening to the steady rhythm of the captain’s lifesigns. There was very little that anyone could do at this stage except hope or pray that he came out of it. He’d had little to do while they were hurtling through space warp eight point eight trying to catch up to an alien vessel that might or might not have Miles Murdoch on board. Then there was the possibility that someone else might have picked up the Intelligence officer. His mission was to retrieve Murdoch, alive or dead, and he prayed for the former.
In either case, catching up to the vessel responsible for the trouble in this sector would be a coup that Commander Logan, as sector commander, would be delighted with. Logan was hiding something from him, of that he was sure, and he seemed awfully intent on finding out who the aliens were, and not just because they’d kidnapped a Federation citizen or two.
‘Captain, we’re closing on the alien vessel. It looks like we’re not the only ones,’ Ensign Euhena sh’Felen, the alpha shift conn officer called over the comm system.
‘I’m on my way, Dhrex out,’ he replied but then tapped his combadge. 'Lieutenant Marshall, report to the bridge.'
'On my way, Captain, Marshall out.'
He reached the bridge quickly but they were still too far away to see anything. ‘What do we have on sensors?’ he asked Lieutenant Andrew Banks, the tactical officer.
‘Two vessels, one belongs to the Ynelavii Cooperative and the other is…’
‘Lieutenant?’ Dhrex asked.
‘Sir, the other vessel is unknown but it appears to be similar to a Daedalus- or Olympic-class vessel, just much larger.’
‘How much larger?’
‘Four point two times the size of a Sovereign-class vessel.’
‘Can we increase speed?’
‘I wouldn’t recommend it, sir. The engines are already overheating,’ sh’Felen answered.
‘Time to intercept?’
‘Thirty-seven minutes at our current speed,’ Banks replied.
‘Both ships have now stopped, sir. They’re holding position proximate to each other.’
Dhrex sat down in the command chair and watched the stars streak by. His mission was to locate Murdoch but he might have found the aliens who were responsible for kidnapping the Denobulan couple and many more besides. Looks like the day was about to get better.
‘Are you detecting any weapons fire or communications between the two vessels?’
‘No sir, they’re just sitting there. We’re too far out to tell if their shields are raised or not.’
‘Thank you for anticipating my next question, Lieutenant. Shall I just go back to my quarters?’
‘Vallejo to bridge.’
‘Go ahead, Doc.’
‘Drummond’s neural levels just spiked, what is going on up there?’
‘What do you mean, spiked?’
‘Whatever that entity is in his brain just got a little extra help from somewhere.’
‘We’re in proximity to a vessel that might be responsible for the kidnappings in this sector.’
‘Nice of you to tell me. I suggest you raise the shields then, Dhrex. I had to give the Captain a dangerously high dose to keep him fighting.’
The acting captain bit back a response regarding the doctor’s casual lack of protocol. The situation with the captain was getting dire. ‘Is there any danger when we get closer?’ he asked as Banks raised the shields.
‘Not unless the shields fail,’ Vallejo replied. ‘His neural output is returning to its former state.’
‘Not normal?’
‘They haven’t been normal since that entity hitched a ride in his brain, sir.’
Dhrex could almost hear the sarcasm in that last word but decided to let it go for now, but he would deal with it later. ‘Keep me informed, Carl, Dhrex out.’
‘Entering extreme visual range, sir,’ Banks informed him.
‘On screen, maximum magnification.’
The two vessels were indeed just sitting there, neither doing anything just yet, but he knew that the situation could change any second, and when it did it was likely to turn badly. The Ynelavii vessel appeared to be a new heavy cruiser, like the Constitution-class starships were in the mid twenty-third century. The alien vessel, now that he saw it close up, did resemble the Olympic-class which itself was a retro look back at the old Daedalus-class starships of the late twenty-second century. The engines were completely different, though, and the spherical hull looked slightly squat at the poles, like planetoid pasted onto an engineering hull.
‘Someone give me some information on that ship.’
‘Our sensors can’t penetrate the hull,’ Banks replied. ‘But from the data I can get just by scanning the ship itself, I can definitely say that they did not get the designs from us. Any similarity is purely cosmetic..’
Dhrex nodded. ‘Keep the shields up but don’t charge the weapons until we need them. Open a channel to the Ynelavii vessel.’
‘Channel open.’
‘This is Commander Dhrex of the Federation starship Weisskopf to the Ynelavii cruiser. Please respond.’
The image on the viewscreen faded to reveal a humanoid not that much different to himself, except for the purple-hued skin. ‘I am General Allak of the Ynelavii Cooperative Vessel Oxelus. State your intentions.’
‘General, I was hunting for the debris of a freighter when I picked up your vessel. Did you find any survivors in the debris field?’
‘He did, Commander,’ said someone stepping into view.
‘Mister Murdoch, I’m glad to see you survived. Commander Logan will be gratified to learn that he didn’t send us on a wild goose chase.’
‘That vessel is responsible for the kidnappings.’
Dhrex sighed. ‘You know that for a fact do you?’
‘I do, sir. They destroyed my freighter and kidnapped two Ynelavii citizens, as well as the leader of the Resoto Hegemony.’
‘Mister Murdoch, please do not reveal any more information on this channel.’
USS Weisskopf
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55263.1 (April 7, 2378)
Gregory Drummond did not look peaceful. His face was a grimace of pain and Doctor Vallejo had informed Dhrex that any more medication would most likely kill him instead of helping him fight off whatever he was fighting. Dhrex sat by the biobed listening to the steady rhythm of the captain’s lifesigns. There was very little that anyone could do at this stage except hope or pray that he came out of it. He’d had little to do while they were hurtling through space warp eight point eight trying to catch up to an alien vessel that might or might not have Miles Murdoch on board. Then there was the possibility that someone else might have picked up the Intelligence officer. His mission was to retrieve Murdoch, alive or dead, and he prayed for the former.
In either case, catching up to the vessel responsible for the trouble in this sector would be a coup that Commander Logan, as sector commander, would be delighted with. Logan was hiding something from him, of that he was sure, and he seemed awfully intent on finding out who the aliens were, and not just because they’d kidnapped a Federation citizen or two.
‘Captain, we’re closing on the alien vessel. It looks like we’re not the only ones,’ Ensign Euhena sh’Felen, the alpha shift conn officer called over the comm system.
‘I’m on my way, Dhrex out,’ he replied but then tapped his combadge. 'Lieutenant Marshall, report to the bridge.'
'On my way, Captain, Marshall out.'
He reached the bridge quickly but they were still too far away to see anything. ‘What do we have on sensors?’ he asked Lieutenant Andrew Banks, the tactical officer.
‘Two vessels, one belongs to the Ynelavii Cooperative and the other is…’
‘Lieutenant?’ Dhrex asked.
‘Sir, the other vessel is unknown but it appears to be similar to a Daedalus- or Olympic-class vessel, just much larger.’
‘How much larger?’
‘Four point two times the size of a Sovereign-class vessel.’
‘Can we increase speed?’
‘I wouldn’t recommend it, sir. The engines are already overheating,’ sh’Felen answered.
‘Time to intercept?’
‘Thirty-seven minutes at our current speed,’ Banks replied.
‘Both ships have now stopped, sir. They’re holding position proximate to each other.’
Dhrex sat down in the command chair and watched the stars streak by. His mission was to locate Murdoch but he might have found the aliens who were responsible for kidnapping the Denobulan couple and many more besides. Looks like the day was about to get better.
‘Are you detecting any weapons fire or communications between the two vessels?’
‘No sir, they’re just sitting there. We’re too far out to tell if their shields are raised or not.’
‘Thank you for anticipating my next question, Lieutenant. Shall I just go back to my quarters?’
‘Vallejo to bridge.’
‘Go ahead, Doc.’
‘Drummond’s neural levels just spiked, what is going on up there?’
‘What do you mean, spiked?’
‘Whatever that entity is in his brain just got a little extra help from somewhere.’
‘We’re in proximity to a vessel that might be responsible for the kidnappings in this sector.’
‘Nice of you to tell me. I suggest you raise the shields then, Dhrex. I had to give the Captain a dangerously high dose to keep him fighting.’
The acting captain bit back a response regarding the doctor’s casual lack of protocol. The situation with the captain was getting dire. ‘Is there any danger when we get closer?’ he asked as Banks raised the shields.
‘Not unless the shields fail,’ Vallejo replied. ‘His neural output is returning to its former state.’
‘Not normal?’
‘They haven’t been normal since that entity hitched a ride in his brain, sir.’
Dhrex could almost hear the sarcasm in that last word but decided to let it go for now, but he would deal with it later. ‘Keep me informed, Carl, Dhrex out.’
‘Entering extreme visual range, sir,’ Banks informed him.
‘On screen, maximum magnification.’
The two vessels were indeed just sitting there, neither doing anything just yet, but he knew that the situation could change any second, and when it did it was likely to turn badly. The Ynelavii vessel appeared to be a new heavy cruiser, like the Constitution-class starships were in the mid twenty-third century. The alien vessel, now that he saw it close up, did resemble the Olympic-class which itself was a retro look back at the old Daedalus-class starships of the late twenty-second century. The engines were completely different, though, and the spherical hull looked slightly squat at the poles, like planetoid pasted onto an engineering hull.
‘Someone give me some information on that ship.’
‘Our sensors can’t penetrate the hull,’ Banks replied. ‘But from the data I can get just by scanning the ship itself, I can definitely say that they did not get the designs from us. Any similarity is purely cosmetic..’
Dhrex nodded. ‘Keep the shields up but don’t charge the weapons until we need them. Open a channel to the Ynelavii vessel.’
‘Channel open.’
‘This is Commander Dhrex of the Federation starship Weisskopf to the Ynelavii cruiser. Please respond.’
The image on the viewscreen faded to reveal a humanoid not that much different to himself, except for the purple-hued skin. ‘I am General Allak of the Ynelavii Cooperative Vessel Oxelus. State your intentions.’
‘General, I was hunting for the debris of a freighter when I picked up your vessel. Did you find any survivors in the debris field?’
‘He did, Commander,’ said someone stepping into view.
‘Mister Murdoch, I’m glad to see you survived. Commander Logan will be gratified to learn that he didn’t send us on a wild goose chase.’
‘That vessel is responsible for the kidnappings.’
Dhrex sighed. ‘You know that for a fact do you?’
‘I do, sir. They destroyed my freighter and kidnapped two Ynelavii citizens, as well as the leader of the Resoto Hegemony.’
‘Mister Murdoch, please do not reveal any more information on this channel.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
USS Weisskopf
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55263.2 (April 7, 2378)
‘We can help you, General. We’re looking for this ship as well. They kidnapped two of our citizens.’
‘I do not need or want your help, Commander. Do you want to take Mister Murdoch back?’
‘I do, we’ll beam him back aboard our ship.’
‘As you wish,’ Allak said. 'He’ll be in our transporter room. I’m sending you the coordinates.’
‘Thank you, General.’
‘Once you have him, please withdraw to a safe distance. I do not wish your ship damaged.’
Dhrex nodded. ‘Very well, Dhrex out.’ He turned to Banks. ‘Drop the shields and beam him directly to the bridge, then raise them and back off to one hundred million kilometres.’
‘Aye sir,’ Banks replied. ‘Dropping shields…energising…raising shields.’
‘Back us off, Ensign. Welcome aboard the Weisskopf, Mister Murdoch,’ he said as the tall human finished materialising.
‘Commander, why are you backing off?’ Marshall asked as he stepped forward to greet his comrade.
‘Because the General is going to try and destroy that vessel. If we don’t fight this time we’ll get enough data so we know how prepared to be when we do.’
‘Captain, I’m receiving a hail from the alien vessel,’ Banks said.
‘On screen.’
‘It’s audio only.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘To the commanding officer of the Federation vessel, this is Melex of Denobula. We have taken this ship from the aliens who kidnapped us and they have all been found dead in various parts of the ship. Recommend quarantining this vessel as there are likely a number of biological agents aboard in pure form and in some of us.’
‘Damn,’ Dhrex replied. ‘Contact Commander Logan and inform him of the situation. Get a hold of Captain Astar and tell her that I need that genius doctor of hers.’
‘Sir, General Allak is charging his weapons!’
‘Move us between them; we have to protect that damn ship.’
‘Commander Logan on subspace,’ Banks said.
‘Put everyone on the screen.’
‘Aye sir.’
‘Commander, what the hell is happening out there?’ Logan asked.
‘Melex is aboard the alien vessel, sir,’ Dhrex answered. ‘He thinks that the aliens might have infected their kidnap victims with some kind of biological agent.’
Logan paled a little and swallowed hard. ‘I’m sending the Pytheas to you at maximum warp. It’ll probably take about two days so try to keep them in one piece, Logan out.’
‘Charming.’
‘At least they’re on their way.’
‘We still have two days to keep the peace.’
‘We’re being hailed by the General.’
‘On screen.’
‘I told you to back off.’
‘There are two Federation citizen on board that vessel, General. I will not sacrifice their lives for your mission. There are members of your own people on board as well aren’t there?’
Allak scowled. ‘They are sacrificing themselves for the greater good.’
‘There will be no sacrifices,’ Dhrex shot back angrily. ‘If you fire on that ship, I will be forced to return fire.’
‘Make no mistake, Commander,’ Allak replied. ‘I will not let the aliens get away.’
‘They are all dead, General. We have received a message from one of our citizens on board the alien vessel. They’re worried about infecting anyone they come into contact with which is why they haven’t attacked.’ He didn’t add that they probably hadn’t figured out the weapons yet.
‘How long do you require to deal with the contagions?’
Dhrex tugged his uniform down. ‘I don’t have the facilities to deal with the contagions. Another vessel is on its way. It will be here in two days.’
‘That is a long time to wait.’
‘A small price to pay if you get your people back alive, and without killing your entire race.’
‘Perhaps,’ Allak said and cut the channel.
‘Keep the shields up, Lieutenant. We might only have delayed the inevitable.’
'Aye sir.'
Dhrex turned to the Intelligence duo. 'You two, my ready room, now.'
Once inside, Murdoch pulled out his tricorder and downloaded the data into the ship's library. 'Watch this, sir, then you can call on me for divulging classified information.'
Dhrex and Marshall did so, then watched as the sensor data, what was left of it, scrolled down the screen.
'What is this?'
'This is everything I have been able to download regarding that alien vessel. Everything else I had was lost when the freighter was destroyed and General Allak could not recover the data.'
'Are you sure?'
'Feel free to scan his ship, I don't think you'll find anything. I believe it's aboard the alien vessel. They don't want anyone knowing anything about them.'
'Well, we know plenty about them already. Doctor Vallejo and the doctor on the Pytheas have been able to break some of their genetic code between them. You will of course have full access to it in order to make your report to Admiral Nechayev.'
Murdoch smiled thinly. 'What makes you think I report to Admiral Nechayev?'
'Her little cabal in Starfleet Intelligence is the only one with the necessary resources for your little operation. And she is the only one who has enough ties with Starfleet Operations to place personnel wherever she sees fit.'
Murdoch turned to Marshall, who just nodded. 'Yes, I work for Nechayev, and she won't be too happy that you figured her out.'
'Just make sure that everything is relayed to her. We can't afford to lose any of the data we have on these aliens.'
'We'll make sure,' Marshall replied. 'It's likely that she'll send another vessel for us to continue our mission, sir. Until then we would appreciate a ride back to the starbase. As soon as it is convenient, of course.'
'I don't believe that will pose too much of an issue. Thank you, gentlemen, dismissed.'
USS Weisskopf
Kursican Sector
Stardate 55263.2 (April 7, 2378)
‘We can help you, General. We’re looking for this ship as well. They kidnapped two of our citizens.’
‘I do not need or want your help, Commander. Do you want to take Mister Murdoch back?’
‘I do, we’ll beam him back aboard our ship.’
‘As you wish,’ Allak said. 'He’ll be in our transporter room. I’m sending you the coordinates.’
‘Thank you, General.’
‘Once you have him, please withdraw to a safe distance. I do not wish your ship damaged.’
Dhrex nodded. ‘Very well, Dhrex out.’ He turned to Banks. ‘Drop the shields and beam him directly to the bridge, then raise them and back off to one hundred million kilometres.’
‘Aye sir,’ Banks replied. ‘Dropping shields…energising…raising shields.’
‘Back us off, Ensign. Welcome aboard the Weisskopf, Mister Murdoch,’ he said as the tall human finished materialising.
‘Commander, why are you backing off?’ Marshall asked as he stepped forward to greet his comrade.
‘Because the General is going to try and destroy that vessel. If we don’t fight this time we’ll get enough data so we know how prepared to be when we do.’
‘Captain, I’m receiving a hail from the alien vessel,’ Banks said.
‘On screen.’
‘It’s audio only.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘To the commanding officer of the Federation vessel, this is Melex of Denobula. We have taken this ship from the aliens who kidnapped us and they have all been found dead in various parts of the ship. Recommend quarantining this vessel as there are likely a number of biological agents aboard in pure form and in some of us.’
‘Damn,’ Dhrex replied. ‘Contact Commander Logan and inform him of the situation. Get a hold of Captain Astar and tell her that I need that genius doctor of hers.’
‘Sir, General Allak is charging his weapons!’
‘Move us between them; we have to protect that damn ship.’
‘Commander Logan on subspace,’ Banks said.
‘Put everyone on the screen.’
‘Aye sir.’
‘Commander, what the hell is happening out there?’ Logan asked.
‘Melex is aboard the alien vessel, sir,’ Dhrex answered. ‘He thinks that the aliens might have infected their kidnap victims with some kind of biological agent.’
Logan paled a little and swallowed hard. ‘I’m sending the Pytheas to you at maximum warp. It’ll probably take about two days so try to keep them in one piece, Logan out.’
‘Charming.’
‘At least they’re on their way.’
‘We still have two days to keep the peace.’
‘We’re being hailed by the General.’
‘On screen.’
‘I told you to back off.’
‘There are two Federation citizen on board that vessel, General. I will not sacrifice their lives for your mission. There are members of your own people on board as well aren’t there?’
Allak scowled. ‘They are sacrificing themselves for the greater good.’
‘There will be no sacrifices,’ Dhrex shot back angrily. ‘If you fire on that ship, I will be forced to return fire.’
‘Make no mistake, Commander,’ Allak replied. ‘I will not let the aliens get away.’
‘They are all dead, General. We have received a message from one of our citizens on board the alien vessel. They’re worried about infecting anyone they come into contact with which is why they haven’t attacked.’ He didn’t add that they probably hadn’t figured out the weapons yet.
‘How long do you require to deal with the contagions?’
Dhrex tugged his uniform down. ‘I don’t have the facilities to deal with the contagions. Another vessel is on its way. It will be here in two days.’
‘That is a long time to wait.’
‘A small price to pay if you get your people back alive, and without killing your entire race.’
‘Perhaps,’ Allak said and cut the channel.
‘Keep the shields up, Lieutenant. We might only have delayed the inevitable.’
'Aye sir.'
Dhrex turned to the Intelligence duo. 'You two, my ready room, now.'
Once inside, Murdoch pulled out his tricorder and downloaded the data into the ship's library. 'Watch this, sir, then you can call on me for divulging classified information.'
Dhrex and Marshall did so, then watched as the sensor data, what was left of it, scrolled down the screen.
'What is this?'
'This is everything I have been able to download regarding that alien vessel. Everything else I had was lost when the freighter was destroyed and General Allak could not recover the data.'
'Are you sure?'
'Feel free to scan his ship, I don't think you'll find anything. I believe it's aboard the alien vessel. They don't want anyone knowing anything about them.'
'Well, we know plenty about them already. Doctor Vallejo and the doctor on the Pytheas have been able to break some of their genetic code between them. You will of course have full access to it in order to make your report to Admiral Nechayev.'
Murdoch smiled thinly. 'What makes you think I report to Admiral Nechayev?'
'Her little cabal in Starfleet Intelligence is the only one with the necessary resources for your little operation. And she is the only one who has enough ties with Starfleet Operations to place personnel wherever she sees fit.'
Murdoch turned to Marshall, who just nodded. 'Yes, I work for Nechayev, and she won't be too happy that you figured her out.'
'Just make sure that everything is relayed to her. We can't afford to lose any of the data we have on these aliens.'
'We'll make sure,' Marshall replied. 'It's likely that she'll send another vessel for us to continue our mission, sir. Until then we would appreciate a ride back to the starbase. As soon as it is convenient, of course.'
'I don't believe that will pose too much of an issue. Thank you, gentlemen, dismissed.'
