To say that it had been a stressful day for a chunk of the Enterprise crew would be something of an understatement. Fortunately for herself, that chunk didn't include her. No, the onerous of stress wasn't on her shoulders.
The doors to her office / quarters opened allowing a slightly ruffled looking andorian in.
"Afternoon, captain. I take it by your fluster that things aren't going particularly well?"
The other woman scowled slightly in a humorous and somewhat cute fashion. "No, and you damn well know that."
"Indeed." She lifted her cup of tea from the desk and took a sip, lapsing into a stereotypically British role of idle amusement. "But why don't you tell me about it anyways?"
"First contact is a bust." She stated as she began pacing the office. "Sure, everything started out well. Exchanging of ideas on culture, science, history... the usual. Then our respective delegations took a break to absorbing the gained information and organize our follow ups."
"And then the fire nation attacked?"
The Andorian woman ceased her pacing and glanced and her. "The what?"
"Sorry. Old Earth meme. Continue."
The captain shook her head slightly. "Right, well. When the contact proceeded they were on the offensive. Going on about our lack of understanding and appreciating about genetics and how we were speiciest against races who had engineered themselves. The tirade lasted for awhile before they kicked us out. A proper diplomatic team might be able to smooth things over, but we're definitely on the back foot here and it's out of my hands now."
"And?" She gestured slightly with her teacup.
"And. It was clearly a Cardassian ploy."
That, that earned a grin. "Oh? Are you sure you're not being unreasonably paranoid?"
"No, I'm being properly paranoid, thank you."
"Well. If it was a Carassian ploy, how would it have been done?"
She paused in thought for a moment. "There's communications traffic to the planet from various satellites in the system. The Cardassians could have passed along information they knew would irritate them mid contact."
"Mm. That's certainly one way, and not unreasonable. Go on."
"I suppose they could have already been here? Maybe made a contact in the diplomatic team? Bribes or just convincing them that they were right... if they passed on some information they knew would upset them and asked them to make sure the proceedings didn't go well..."
"Another not entirely unreasonable guess. This is the space between our spheres of influence, after all. History and general data of Starfleet, the Federation, and the members arn't exactly state secrets. It's entirely possible the Cardasians can, and will, have already seeded various stumbling blocks where they can."
"Not really helpful. I'd have to assume that any first contact that the Cardasians may have gotten there first and have planted something from Federation history that would set the race in question off."
"True. But you're in a better spot if you're not blindsided by it. You'd have to run any crew that might be handling such first contacts through some of the things in our histories that might be able to be twisted against us with the right spin. You have fairly good diplomats. If they're prepared ahead of time they should have a good shot at mitigating such spins."
"Yeah. I guess that's true. If they want to sabotage our efforts..."
"Poison the well that makes the Federation look so good. If something looks too good to be true, people will be looking for the other hand. Doesn't take much to tailor something that a race would find questionable and give it the right spin to blow up in our faces. Remember, sabotage isn't just bombs and stealing information. Hearts and minds is a potent weapon as well. Hearts and minds."
"I'll have some of the crew work on drawing something up so we're all familiar with areas of our various histories that stand out. This was...a productive lesson." A confident grin was offered.
"Mm. You're a quick student." A sly grin was returned.
"I'll have the crew members that were helping out in this... what did you call it?"
The grin twisted into genuine amusement. "Well. On Earth, it was a hobby known as "Live Action Roleplay" but I think we might be better served just calling it a tactical simulation."
"Right. Is my spy master free to eat?"
"Not a spy master, Captain. Just a humble, lowly Ensign. You shame me with such accusations. That said, I do find myself feeling a bit peckish..."
Nash did everything short of rolling her eyes.
...................
She reflected later, after dinner, that everything was going rather well. The crew was in general becoming somewhat indoctrinated into having some degree of espionage awareness beat into their heads and the good Captain would soon be at the point where she could point to a nacel giving off an odd energy reading and come up with 17 ways it could be a Cardassian plot, and 9 ways they could have pulled it off.
She enjoyed such sharp minds, and quite understood the draw of the good captain. Perhaps she should show her the various stories she'd inspired amongst the Romulans? Or perhaps better still, the Cardassian equivalent she'd had to trade a particularly juicy piece of information to an Orion official to get a copy of...
Angling for: Nash providing a bonus to resisting espionage actions when she's involved.
After Action Report In his quiet ops center, Legate Cormai stared at the tactical telemetry that glowed softly on his planning table. The hand that gripped it itched, the outbreak of a skin disease -- one that erupted, painfully, during times of stress. He had not had an outbreak in some 20 years -- not since that week he'd fretted about asking the love of his life to marry him. Now it was back, an oozing, greyish rash that ran almost to his elbows.
Karnack, burning in space, her crew barely alive. Lorgot... gone. Nothing to recover. No bodies to return to their families. Maybe, in a century or two, their descendants might be stuck by an errant atom of their remains, along with so much other stellar dust.
"They had her dead to rights," He spat, as if the table were a conduit through which he could admonish the dead crew, "Every advantage given to them. They should have -- this should have been an easy victory."
The woman leaning over the table with him shook her head, "No, not every asset." She tapped a marker, "Here, Trag--"
"Are you daft?" Legate Cormai glared at Gul Dukat, the woman eyeing her cooly. "Gul Miran is compromised. Deeply, horrendously compromised. She is unfit to fight Enterprise. She is, in my opinion, barely fit to wear the uniform. But Central Command disagrees."
"I do not think she would have been capable of open--"
"Consider the impossible now, Dukat! Consider it all!" He slammed the table with his swollen hand. Pain shot into his arm, but maybe he deserved it, "Our listening post, a cruiser, gone. Without a trace." He pulled up the AAR for that. CAUSE - UNKNOWN for the anomaly, it read. But Cormai knew. Knew it deep in his bones. The AAR, now, for their attempted ambush, "A successful military plan, the best we could have made, and we didn't even scratch her paint. How? How is this, this Federation so resilient?"
"Sir," Dukat insisted, softly, "As I informed you in the planning stage, the two vessels that engaged Enterprise were not the sum total of our assets. If you had committed Trager after the ruse had succeeded I am sure..."
Cormai could feel the itch, tiny bites that gnawed all the way to his bone. He could feel the sick dampness of his skin from the serum that leaked. And all he could hear as he reached across the table and grabbed Dukat by the head, slamming her face into the planning table, was a roar.
"SHE. IS. COMPROMISED!" He dragged Dukat's face across the table and threw her off it; her body landed in a heap on the floor, huddled. Cormai felt the strength go out of his legs and he backed into a console behind him, sliding down it. "Don't you understand? Can't you see it? I don't know how Central Command can't. I've listened to every transmission from her to Nash. Every scrap of audiovisual data I could find -- eyewitness drivel even, for State's sake. You can hear it. The breaking of her will, the slow erosion. There's nothing you can point to and say where she's wrong, but you can feel it and know all she wants is to run her hands through that silver-blue hair..."
Dukat was getting to her feet, her hand heavily pressing on a console as she pushed herself up, her other hand pressed to her nose. Blood dripped down her uniform. "Composure, please, Legate. That is a fellow Gul you talk about," she said, sputtering slightly.
Cormai laughed, "Oh? Just a Gul? Just one Gul?!? I wish it were just that. I wish." His voice was light, happy even, "Don't you see, Dukat? We're fucked. We're fucked! When we met the Federation, we immediately assessed the threat. Evaluated it. Understood it. We said to ourselves, 'These people are far from home. They can never sell themselves to our neighbours as a credible protector.' But, they are beating us there, the momentary ray of Sydraxian sunshine aside. 'These are not a duplicitous people, they cannot possibly match us if we undermine them,' but, they beat us even there. Our attempt to kill the Ambassadors failed. Do you know how many assets I burned on that? And then the listening post, all those lives on the cruiser with it, lost to a-- freak accident, so say the stories, but it's too convenient, too pert. 'Then we will beat them with sheer force, in their unbalanced and overengineered ships.' And we could not even do that, not even with a 95% calculated success rate! And all this while, they seep their poison into us, our citizens buying into their promises of freedom, of -- some corrupt lifestyle. And we can't stop them! They publish stories about mating with these... disgusting creatures, and people read it for titillation! Our own officers read it, I know they do, Dukat, and I can tell you that there are some right now acting out the most vile fantasies while they are supposed to be protecting our great Union. Groups of them, masked, in dark rooms, the darkest corruption of the soul of our species - We're finished! The tide we didn't know was there is coming in and all we have built is but sand, Dukat, sand!"
The only sounds in the room were Cormai's panicked panting and the soft bleep of the consoles, as Dukat looked down on Cormai, inscrutable. Truth be told, she had her own killer monologue planned, but her nose hurt too much. Somwhere in there were the words 'paranoid, rambling fool,' because as per usual Cormai was exaggerating and making wild, completely deranged leaps of logic while in the grip of a terrible rage. Masked xenophile cults was a new (and completely fabricated) one, though.
She watched as Cormai picked himself off the floor and mumbled, "I am going for a walk. I am sorry for your nose, Gul. I will report it as a training accident." He slouched away, out the swooshing door and into the hall.
***
Hours later, Cormai returned to his quarters in slightly higher spirits. He'd had a breakdown with Dukat, sure, but now he realized his words were those of a scared man. He'd talk to her, convince her of his reliability, and...
"Don't you see, Dukat? We're fucked. We're fucked!" His voice, from the darkness of the room. Cormai shielded his eyes as the lights flickered on, the transition turning his wall lights into an interrogator's beam.
In the corner was a man Cormai didn't recognize, a small PADD in his hands. He pressed a button on it, "We're finished! The tide we didn't know was there is coming in and all we have built is but sand, Dukat, sand!"
The silence in the room was deafening. The man spoke first, "What does that person sound like to you, Cormai?" He said, amicably, "Because to me it sounds like a broken, terrified man."
Dukat! She'd been recording... "I don't know who you..."
The man opened his jacket and tapped the Obsidian Order insignia inside, stealing the words right from Cormai's mouth. He staggered against the doorframe as the Obsidian Order Agent continued, "Also, our informant told us you said some very interesting things about Nash's hair, Legate. It almost like you sounded you were projecting some desires of your own onto Gul Miran."
"No. I would never--!" Cormai was on the battlefield, somehow, in his living room, his eyes darted but it was too bright, there was nowhere to hide.
"Never with Andorians, hmm? What about with Tellarites?" Cormai froze, his eyes fixed on the Agent. They smiled. "You know, I always did think your wife was very much so on the short side… it would be a shame if others made the connection, no?"
Cormai didn't say anything. What could he say? All his words were right there, on that damned PADD.
The Agent stuffed the PADD in his pocket. "...in any case. We do not need a broken man to be guiding us on the frontlines. Now, more than ever, we need men and women with resolve, with spines that will not bend under the winds of Federation propaganda. I do not doubt your loyalty, of course, Cormai. But I doubt your usefulness, your reliability. Those are needed just as much as loyalty." The Agent shifted his stance. "You know, I know you are quite the fan of walks, aren't you? Why, I bet they help you refresh, and you are in dire need of that right now, no? I think it would be best for you -- and your family, and above all, the state -- if you took a nice hike in the Atbar Prime highlands. Maybe you would enjoy it so much you'd never wish to return." He fixed Cormai with a look that made the Legate feel like he was a vole, pinned to an operating table, his organs exposed for removal, "Do you understand me?"
Cormai nodded.
"Good. There is an aircar waiting outside. Don't make it wait -- your shuttle leaves in thirty."
***
Applause filled the Ops room, and Dukat beamed at her new subordinates. The Legate's badge freshly affixed on her chest gleamed thinly in the light.
***
Cormai's feet crunched into gravelly sand as he stepped out of a skimmer, the mirrored black surface of the car soaking in the light. He stumbled forward, the uniform he'd never changed out of already growing hot. The canteen at his waist felt light compared to the burdens in his head.
He stumbled forward several meters, then found his footing. After a few hundred meters, the imposing beige cliffs of the highlands seemed no closer. He turned and looked behind him. The skimmer was still there, an attendant standing by it. He looked back at the mountains. Slowly, reverently, he picked the legate's badge off his uniform, and gently set it in the sand. Then came off the rest of his uniform, the black, armored jacket, the textured pants, even his underclothes and boots. Then, he opened the top of his canteen, and upended it. It's clear contents spilled onto the ground, temporarily darkening the patch of sand at his feet. When it was empty, he dropped it onto the pile. He walked forward again, his stride more confident, lighter. His foot came down on the sand and something snapped underneath. He looked down and saw a femur, sun-bleached and brittle. He reached down and shifted in the sand until he found a skull. He picked it up and tucked it under his arm. He'd carry this soldier a little further. It was his duty.
He looked back one final time. He could see, distantly, the skimmer's minder putting his clothes and canteen into the back of the skimmer, and then getting in himself. The skimmer made a tight turn and rocketed off into the featureless wastes, leaving only a cloud of dust that faded with time.
From: Spec. Commander Tethvox To: Rear Admiral Hikaru Sulu
Sir, we have completed our preliminary assessment of the newest Federation acquaintance in the Cardassian Border Zone. Given the rapid evolution of Federation/Apiata relations since first contact, it is likely that much of this information will soon be available throughout the civilian datanets. Nonetheless, you may find it useful to have the most relevant details summarized here in concise form.
Starfleet Intelligence Race Profile: Apiata.
Prior to official first contact, Federation knowledge of the Apiata was limited to nonspecific Amarki intelligence that a new interstellar power had emerged to the galactic north, as well as a short list of anecdotal reports about "insect women" encountered by Amarki traders. The lack of familiarity with the Apiata's neighbors appears to stem from three factors: the newness of Apiata warp-capability, the expansive barren region surrounding their home system, and the Apiata's own lack of interest in exploration. Apiata expansion beyond their native cluster was motivated by the demand for dilithium incurred by their recent exponential industrial growth; a demand that ended their isolationist paradigm by bringing them into conflict with the Cardassians.
BIOLOGY AND PSYCHOLOGY
The Apiata constitute an extreme outlier in xenobiology, being the only known eusocial vulcanoid (SECRETARIAL EDIT: humanoid). Though they have not been particularly forthcoming with data about their native biosphere, we have enough data to conclude that they evolved from a troglodytic rodent whose incongruous transformation into a sapient biped has been deemed, to quote my evolutionary geneticist, "proof that not only was the humanoid proto-genome seeded artificially, but that whoever did it was batshit crazy." While I leave assessing the weight of this new evidence for the Progenitor Hypothesis to my former teachers at the Vulcan Science Academy, I can confirm that the Apiata retain many characteristics typically associated with Terran and Vulcan hive-rats.
The Apiata are tri-sexed, their population divided into queens, drones, and workers at an approximate ratio of 1:13:360. Queen and worker Apiata average 1.8 meters tall and 75 KG in weight, with drones average 1.9 meters and 90 KG. The queen is the sole producer of ovae, which ready themselves for fertilization in clusters of eight to twelve throughout her life. After being fertilized by a drone, the queen gestates the zygote cluster for a brief period before giving birth and allowing her harem of drones to host them in a marsupium-like organ for several more months until they are sufficiently developed for independent mobility, and nurse them for some time afterward. Apiata workers are sterile, possessing only an atrophied remnant of the female reproductive system found in a queen. While the projected lifespan for all Apiata castes is fifty-seven standard years, in practice the queens and drones often live much longer due to their sheltered and carefully regulated lifestyles.
Owing to this balanced sexual trimorphism, Apiata societies have always been divided into tribal units centered around the leadership of a queen. Typical of eusocial life forms, the genetic imperatives of an Apiata worker are largely subsumed by those of the queen that mothered her; it would only be a slight exaggeration to say that a worker only values its own life for the sake of how that life can protect its queen's. While workers have as much individual variation in interests, aptitudes, and tastes as members of any other race, this difference in underlying motivation has a large impact on their life decisions. Queens and drones are driven by more familiar survival and reproductive instincts, with queens tending to prioritize the former drones the latter.
SOCIETY AND TECHNOLOGY
All historical Apiata societies have been based on the unity of multiple tribes beneath a ruling oligarchy of queens, with intra-oligarchic society ranging from democratic to brutally hierarchical. The governing paradigm under which the species is currently unified, the "Allhive," is a representative democracy for queens, with each High Queen being elected from within a council of tribal or supertribal matriarchs and serving her office for life, at which point a replacement is elected. This uniform arrangement was imposed by force in the aftermath of a multi-faction war that took place eighty standard years ago, just before the Apiata's discovery of warp travel, and some colonies appear to be in the process of diverging again as their respective High Queens either lose power or deliberately rearrange their subordinates' arrangements. A divisive issue between colonies in recent decades has been the status of drones in Apiata society; different sub-polities have afforded varying degrees of suffrage to their drones, ranging from near equality with the queens to complete disenfranchisement. A similar controversy surrounds the treatment of "defective" workers who desire political agency independent of their queen. Extreme differences of opinion in these matters have been the cause (or at least justification) for at least three minor wars in recent memory. While the overall historical trend has been positive, the recent threat posed by the Cardassians and other alien powers has strengthened the position of social conservatives, and improvement for the past several years has stalled.
The Apiata possessed only rudimentary warp drive capacity until their newest generation of annihilation-powered technology necessitated expansion in search of dilithium or a substitute. Consequently, Apiata technology is unusually advanced for such a young interstellar power, being roughly analogous to the third quarter twenty-third century Federation in most fields. Technological progress beyond this point has slowed down due to the bottleneck in special resources imposed by competition with superior Cardassian prospectors. While the Apiata Allhive's combined fleet assets are significant, they suffer militarily for having long optimized their warships and fleet paradigm for use against other Apiata rather than aliens.
(Contemporary Apiata ships, with a Federation Excelsior class explorer for scale)
While the circumstances of Starfleet first contact with the Allhive likely skewed the proceedings in the Federation's favor, corroborating evidence from Indarian sources indicates that the Apiata are cautiously friendly toward outsiders by default. They are receptive to alien offers of trade and cooperation, but seemingly reluctant to initiate such interactions on their own. Violation of Apiata territory or other material interests is responded to with attempts at diplomacy first, with violence serving as a last resort. Apiata actions are without exception measured, rational, and orderly, though their failure to explore the surrounding sector without an immediate resource-based objective suggests a certain lack of long term foresight, or at least of imagination, in modern Apiata thought.
RECOMMENDATION: The Apiata Allhive is a friendly tier 1.5 power in the Cardassian Border Zone whose economic and political circumstances will logically encourage them to integrate. Affiliation with the Apiata should be pursued, but longterm membership prospects are unpalatable until the treatment of drones and noncompliant workers improves.
Ambassador Nikael Dalera could not decide if he liked Michel Thuir, captain of the Miracht. Could not decide. That was rare for Dalera. Normally it didn't take him very long at all to decide if he enjoyed being around someone, if their thoughts formed pleasant patterns, if their psych had that... that... even his native language didn't have quite the right word. This was, it should be stressed, a different matter from making any sort of character judgment. Some of the finest people Dalera had ever known he could barely stand to share a room with!
Thuir was gloomy man, naturally inclined to take a pessimistic view of the world. Being in his company made Dalera feel like a fog rested over everything, thick and cold and dampening the Ambassador's usual enthusiastic attitude to the world. It was quite unpleasant, and yet it was unpleasant in that way that sometimes felt... pleasant? Sometimes one enjoys enjoys the coolness and silence of the fog. Then there were those moments when Thuir solved some problem and it was like the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine beamed down and illuminated the mental landscape quite brilliantly.
Dalera had already intuited that a key part of Thuir's leadership style, something he was likely unaware of himself, was that his subordinates would go to to extra lengths because they wanted to cheer their captain up. They would, if Dalera could put it so crudely, do anything to make Michel Thuir smile.
"Ambassador? Ambassador?"
How embarrassing, he'd been so distracted trying to decide if he liked Thuir that he'd missed Thuir actually talking to him.
"Ah yes Captain, apologies for being a bit distracted." The turbolift they were in came to a halt. Dalera recollected himself and stroked the flower on his lapel. "You were saying you picked up this particle theorist team at the same time you transported me up from Ferasa?
"Slightly before, from a civilian ship in-system," corrected Thuir as they walked the corridor. "They need to try their experiment while traveling at a higher warp factor than most ships can manage, and since we're taking you back to Betazed at all possible speed we were happy to help."
The usual gloomy look appeared on his face. "Of course the Miracht's science team will actually run the experiment. We've had trouble with uncontrolled activations of equipment before." A vision of the ship's corridors covered in jungles flashed through his mind.
"I see. Well, the science won't mean much to me I'm sure, but the thrill of discovery from those particle theorists will be just the thing to invigorate me before the summit."
===
Dalera awoke with a splitting headache, sprawled on the ground. It was like he was a student again!
His eyes fluttered open, then shut again at the glare of the lights above. Hearing some murmuring in the background, he instinctively reached out telepathically. It was more difficult than it should have been, like light refracted in a fluid. Finally he was able to make out a coherent thought. -If only I had known what a tetryon eddy might do, the Ambassador would still be alive.-
What? Ignoring a few pops from his spine, the Ambassador rolled to his feet. He brushed aside his long, braided hair and looked around. It was the same room the experiment had been conducted in, but some time had evidently passed. The complicated machinery had been cleared away from its mount and technicians swarmed all about, scanning everything in sight. The Caitian particle team was nowhere in sight.
Dalera tried to recall what happened. The experiment had been proceeding well, and then suddenly it hadn't and everyone had grown very alarmed indeed. There was a flash of light and then... nothing.
He focused on where the stray thought had come from. It was an Andorian woman, Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron. Of course, she was the chief engineer of the Miracht and the one who had been running the experiment. Wondering why he had been left laying on the floor, Dalera stepped towards her. "Excuse me, but I'm quite alive. Excuse me! Lieutenant-Commander..."
It wasn't that she was ignoring him. Her thoughts were still muffled, but he could get enough emotional feedback to tell she wasn't even registering his presence. He hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder, his hand trembling slightly. A part of him wasn't surprised at all when his hand passed through her body as if moving through air.
"How utterly not delightful," said Nikael Dalera. He then cursed for good measure.
===
Lieutenant Tirusec Spaurh brushed his fingers nervously across his sidearm. Not standard Starfleet practice to even be carrying a sidearm while onboard the Miracht, but a number of "cultural exceptions" had been made for officers like himself who had transferred directly into Starfleet from the Amarki navy.
He heard it again, a not-quite-voice in his mind. -Help. Help. Trapped. Help. Can't touch.- Unable to pinpoint the source, Spaurh looked around for anything that might hold someone. He opened a cabinet that looked big enough for a person, but of course there was nothing inside but the equipment that was supposed to be there.
We there something wrong with him? Surely if there were some problem with his brain chemistry it would have shown up in the rather thorough medical scan he'd been given when he'd come onboard. But then what other explanation was there for this soundless voice? Unless.... there were those stories being passed around below decks, the ones about the Miracht-A being a haunted ship, They said that the ghosts of the crew of the first Miracht, the one consumed by the biophage, haunted the new ship. No one really believed that, of course. It was just... an amusing tall tale.
There was a small sound. Tirusec whirled around, but there was nothing there but the datapad he had put down on a console when he had first started hearing the voice. That had been a real sound, he was sure of it! Had it activated somehow?
Then, before his eyes, the datapad moved. It edged ever so slightly forward a few centimeters, then one end raised up slightly before dropping back down.
Backing up, Tirusec ran quickly from the room.
Behind him, invisible to his eyes, Ambassador Dalera looked down at the datapad in frustration. This wasn't working. It wasn't working at all. His telepathy was being hampered by whatever it was that had happened to him. Not that it ever would have been easy to get a coherent message across to a non-telepath, but normally he could have managed something. Here he had found ideal conditions, with a subject who was isolated and trying to be alert, and it still wasn't getting through properly.
The datapad was a different sort of strategy. It wasn't a fact that was widely known, but a tiny fraction of a percent of Betazoids had a slight telekinetic ability in addition to their telepathy. Nikael Dalera was in that tiny fraction of a percent. It wasn't normally good for much other than party tricks, not even strong to lift a datapad off the ground, but he had hoped maybe he could type something out something. No good, though, his control wasn't nearly fine enough.
Perhaps this was just the wrong person. Perhaps he should try again with Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron. She was the one running the experiment. She might be able to put the pieces together. If he had the Miracht's schedule down correctly, it was an off-duty shift for her. If she was isolated from the presence of other minds in her quarters, it might be easier to make contact.
Making his way through the ship was easy in some ways, hard in others. Dalera could walk through doors, but getting from level to level required some rather tricky maneuvers with the turbolift, either waiting for someone going to the right level or trying to use telekinesis to punch the back-up control buttons himself. He hadn't been sure at first how he was standing on the floor if he passed through objects, but a little experimentation had shown that he couldn't pass through anything that was being maintained by the ship's structural integrity field, which included walls and floors but not doors or tables or consoles.
Dalera arrived at the officer quarters area, honing in on the correct room by searching for ch'Ufrashron's mind. The good news was that she was there. The bad news was that she was asleep. That would be no good at all. He looked around for something small enough he could move but that would make a loud enough noise to wake her up. Perhaps that freestanding picture frame?
Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron jolted from her sleep. She tensed, feeling the vibration of the ship, but no, it wasn't anything wrong with the Miracht that had woken her up. It was the picture of Viera Kendle, killed during the disaster with the Sydraxians. She'd been close to the junior officer, had wanted to keep her in memory for the rest of the mission at least. Why had the picture fallen if the Miracht was holding steady?
Before her eyes, it raised itself up and then dropped again to the stand. A flood of emotions rocked her mind. A need for help. A need for help. Trapped, wrong, trapped on the other side. She hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut. "No... Viera... I'm sorry."
Dalera stumbled through the door and out of the room. That had been a disaster. He had thought going on empathic bands rather than telepathic would be easier, but apparently the picture had triggered just the wrong set of associations. He squatted on the floor, rubbing his eyes. These contact attempts were causing distress, and that was contrary to everything in his telepathic ethics. Could he keep this up?
But what was the alternative, haunt the Miracht forever? His own survival was at stake. He would die before seriously harming someone else to save himself, but what is 'serious harm'? Where should he draw the line? Dalera got back to his feet. He would just be more circumspect. Vulcans were no good; the trouble was that their their innate telepathy gave them defenses so that it was actually harder to get through when they weren't 'accepting calls'. Humans were highly similar to Betazeds in mind structure. Perhaps if he made a wide sweep, trying to touch the mind of each human in the crew, he'd find one on a similar enough mental wavelength to his own to get through, without putting too much pressure on any one of them.
===
Miracht Sick Bay some time later
"What is this Doctor Yang, some sort of plague? Because I refuse to believe in ghosts," demanded Captain Thuir.
"No type of plague I've ever heard of," replied CMO Robert Yang. "No, I think we're talking about something quite different."
Yang gestured at beds where Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron and Lieutenant Spaurh were being scanned. "We've had lots of reports of strange voices, almost all from humans, but these two seem to have had the most intense experiences. I've been doing some tests, and they both have two things in common. First, their brains show definite signs of recent intense telepathic contact. The echoes in their brainwaves are unmistakeable. Second, both of them are suffused with chroniton particles. I asked engineering to run some scans, and there are chroniton fields being formed all over the ship."
Thuir frowned even more deeply. "So we're looking at something traveling invisibly all over the ship, poking at the brains of my crew telepathically, knocking over small objects, and leaving chroniton fields all over the ship? Some sort of alien lifeform we picked up in space?"
Yang chuckled. "Actually, I believe we picked him up on Ferasa. I checked the literature, and chroniton particles are most often generated by objects dimensionally out of phase. I ask you Captain, what's telepathic and recently up and disappeared without leaving a trace? Unless I miss my guess, this is Ambassador Dalera."
"Brilliant as usual, Dr. Yang," said Thuir appreciatively. "You like solving mysteries so much I don't know why you became a doctor."
"Ah Captain, you'll never find anything more mysterious than biological systems."
"Yes, your mystery-solving ability is very charming. Now how are you going to get me back!?" demanded Dalera from a few meters away, though of course no one could hear him.
"But how are we going to get the Ambassador back?" asked Captain Thuir.
This time it was Lieutenant-Commander ch'Ufrashron who spoke. "A bi-polaron flux field could resolve his the space-time references. I could set one up in a cargo bay. Only problem is, that'll only last for seconds. How can we make sure he's in the bay to be affected?"
A wave of intense joy passed over them.
"Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem," said Captain Thuir. His smile was like a beam of sunshine.
===
There was a shimmering green light in the air, and Ambassador Dalera seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Dr. Yang and Captain Thuir rushed into the room. "Ambassador, are you all ri-"
Thuir was interrupted as Ambassador Dalera caught him in a massive hug. "Thank you Captain, thank you so much! I was sure I was doomed to be a poltergeist wandering the Miracht for the rest of my days. And you know, I've decided I quite like you after all."
Tonights punchiness brought to you by another Omake - An Annotated Letter:
*****
From: Gul Zinther
To: Legate Dunor
Sir:
Per your request, here is the raw text of the personal communication intercept that the our outside intelligence agreement BLUE 17 (Yes, that Orion Cartel.) recently provided us, along with our analysts' commentaries. All cryptography and meta-data is consistent with a civilian message sent to Federation military personnel according to our current data, but as you are well aware, even the a minimally effective intelligence agency can easily cause the actual people involved to write spurious messages.
*****
Dear Aunt Vitalia;
[Analyst Note(AN): This is Admiral Vitalia Karhurangi, Commander, Federation Starfleet, extended psych profile still under development.]
Dad probably already told you, but I'm so excited that I had to share the news! I just got a permanent position at Yoyodyne! [AN: Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems, a major Warp Tech research station] They liked my work as a post-doc so much they gave me an early offer (apparently they only do that every few years). I'm now working on 17 dimensional warp field theory with a pair of inter-dimensional refugees named John Ya Ya and John Small Berries. [AN: Refugees is an easy cover for advanced scouts and spies. We should study these individuals in order to investigate possible contact with these individuals to see if they can be persuaded to contact their native planet and coordinate anti-Federation activities.] They may be odd, but living on Andor, and spending time at Yoyodyne is making me change my standards of odd.
That reminds me, I have gotten so much use out of the Amanda Grayson Inter-species cookbooks you sent me when I moved out here. I am getting so much use out of them. I still get a kick out of using the recipes that Spock ate when he was growing up.
[AN: This seems to strongly imply that the person listed under the name Spock in the Federation history files they provided us may actually be real and not a propaganda figure.
Previous analysts considered Spock, and Captain Kirk who he served under to be pro-federation fiction, much in the vain of our Obsidian Order: Riotous Vengeance Unit; Obsidian Order: Treasonous Intent; or Gul Walker, Frontier Ranger. This prior evaluation was based on the Klingon Opera "The Trial of Kirk" which we have recordings of a number of different performances. Given the purported records of these two individuals, contingencies should be made, if they do in fact have similar field performance equal or exceeding Captain ka'Sharren, then they should be prioritized as targets in case they are placed in command positions for a Federation battle-fleet.]
I'm not sure I'm going to want to spend too many years out her, but hey, I get to decide. I know I was kinda whiny at you years ago when I did not get into Starfleet Academy, but having worked with some visiting Startfleet folk who were here to do some modeling, I think your advice about there being lots of other great opportunities out there was right, and this is a better fit (and I hope not all lower rank Starfleet officers are that grabby with other peoples food. What are your people feeding them? Do you need to give out more cookbooks?!?).
[AN: By all evidence, the writer of this letter appears to be close to the commander of Starfleet, while Starfleet Academy claims to be impartial and selective, claiming for appearances sake is different than making sure to accept the right people and reject the wrong one. Why was an exception not made? Is Karhurangi unusually protective of her extended family? Unwilling to sacrifice them for the success of the larger family and state? We will keep this in mind in trying to find tactics to pressure her.]
Also on that subject, moms tell me that Tibby is all over himself studying for the entrance exams. I know you can't give him answers, but an encouraging call before the exams should really calm him down. You know he thinks the world of you.
Your favorite (I hope) Niece, Dr. Susan Karhurangi, Yoyodyne, Andor
[AN: Extended Analysis is attached...]
*****
To: Admiral Khev
CC: Director Temon
From: Praetor Camir
Our operatives have informed us that the nephew of Admiral Karharangi, one Tiberius Karharangi, has just been accepted to Starfleet Academy. As the highest ranking officer who has been in contact with the Federation, and in light of the current diplomatic situation, we think it is appropriate that you send a brief congratulatory message on this subject. Due to the rare nature of Romulan Ale in the Federation, I have selected a lesser bottle from my personal collection to accompany your message.
This never should have gone this way, Glinn Ulani Miran thinks, sitting quietly in one of Lorgot's escape pods. If we had been planning this, it never would have gone this way. Typical Central Command fuck-up.
State's sake, just half an hour ago, she'd been planning interrogations of the Enterprise crew! This was supposed to be an easy ambush. Lorgot and Karnack, combined, massed more than their quarry, and packed a lot more firepower. And, of course, the enemy was supposed to be surprised, not setting off a solar flare.
The mission must have been compromised. For all she knows, the traitor (or traitors) could be here in this pod. Probably not, but with little else to do, the Obsidian Order agent figures it'd be good mental exercise to work out who it might be.
"Why are they just leaving us here?" Kaj Macet asks. "Why haven't they shot us or captured us?" Gil, assigned command over a weapons crew. Young, impressionable. Intently studies the Federation in his free time (at least, what we allow a gil access to; he's not clever enough to secure greater access), which sort of explains why he'd had images of Amarki and Andorians hidden in his quarters. That, and a probable taste for exotic blue aliens. Certainly a possible candidate... but as a junior gil, he wouldn't have had access to the plan, nor any means to communicate it.
"Maybe they've detected help arriving?" Prieta Tredgar suggests. Garresh, the one actually running Macet's weapons crew. One of the senior garreshes on - well, off, now - the Lorgot. She could've known. Certainly, if any of the enlisted knew, she'd've known. Ceterian, so suspect origins. Friends in comms, so she could have arranged a message. That said, she's a long-service professional, and as far as Ulani can tell, thoroughly loyal. Which may mean she's simply covered her tracks well.
"Perhaps they're trying to take control of Karnack first," Una Khevet says. Glinn, a mess officer. Has a taste for exotic food, and a stalled-out career. And a mess officer could overhear incautious bridge officers. A strong candidate, to be sure, if perhaps lacking the means to betray Lorgot.
"If she even survived," Geleth Yenhaal says. Gil, an engineer. Only recently a gil again - thirty days ago, she'd been a glinn. Quite unhappy with her new rank. Would have helped with hiding Lorgot's emissions in preparation for the ambush. Knowledge, possible motive. Another candidate, though the timing would've been tight.
"Maybe they want us to be picked up by our crewmates. Maybe this is a message," Kaj suggests.
"And what message would that be?" Prieta asks.
"That, um, that they can beat our best ship?"
That they hold us in contempt. That's the message Enterprise is sending. We don't matter enough for them to take us prisoner, or even bother to destroy us. Chalk it up to Federation arrogance ... but then again, based on today's results, it's justifiable arrogance.
"They don't exactly need us alive to show that," Alkor Rejal says. Gil. Junior comms officer. Has a lot of friends on the ship, including everyone else in this pod. Occasionally fraternized with a crewmate, though that's tapered off recently - most likely, they've broken off whatever relationship they had. Could have picked up the orders ... though if the Central Command had any sense, they'd've been sent in code. Definitely someone to interrogate, when they're recovered - with him as the means, any of the others could have relayed a traitorous message.
So, in true enigma tale style, everyone in this pod is suspect. Including me. I ought to be preparing for my own interrogation, come to think of it. I failed the Union today. And through me, the Order failed Cardassia.
***
The scene in the Trager's viewscreen is sobering. A cruiser, adrift, dead in space ... and a flock of escape pods, isolated survivors from the cruiser's larger consort. No other signs of the Lorgot - not even a shattered hulk. Penelya Miran had been told what to expect. But it doesn't make it any less of a shock, seeing it in person. Hundreds of fellow Cardassians dead - friends, possibly even family, among them. One of the biggest ships in the Fleet, just ... gone. "Sensors. Any signs of anything else in-system?"
"No, ma'am. No planets, no asteroids, no ships, no satellites, nothing. Just Karnack and the Lorgot's survivors."
"Command says navigational accident. That's the official line; that's what's going into the documentation file." Miran looks over at Yarra, briefly - just long enough to let her know they need to talk about this matter. Alone. Yarra acknowledges with a small nod. The gul then looks over to her weapons officer. "Glinn Zarov, take charge of rescue and recovery operations. The bridge is yours."
Miran makes her way to a crawlspace in engineering, followed shortly by her XO. As far as she has been able to tell, there are no recording devices present here - in fact, it'd be difficult to install one that would be able to pick up any usable recordings, given the loud hum of the engine spaces below.
"Of the blue kind. But Command isn't ready to admit that yet, so."
"Ah. I'd've thought they'd be more careful about that."
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? Command clearly doesn't, though. I told them, mass. Use our superior doctrine. Did they listen? Of course not. Why weren't we there, anyway? Why did we turn back for Indoria, instead of joining the fight? Someone doesn't trust me, I think. I have the most experience dealing with her, and it's being ignored."
"Have you considered that that might be related? That they might distrust you because of your experience dealing with her?" Jil means 'her' as in Nash, Penelya realizes. Not as in Enterprise.
"Fair point. It's horsshit, but a fair point, all the same."
"So you're saying if you'd been there -"
"I would have done my duty," Miran snaps. Whatever her misgivings, and she certainly had some about this whole plan, she would have followed orders. She's a loyal soldier of Cardassia.
Isn't she?
She could have fired on Nash, if it had come to it, couldn't she?
"You wouldn't have liked it." Statement, not a question. Yarra knows her CO too well. Dangerously well ... though the fact that she hasn't turned on Miran suggests she likely won't. Or that she's waiting for something more damning.
No, I wouldn't have liked it - I'm a soldier, not a murderer. But I would have done my duty. "Irrelevant." Miran sighs. "I know I'm disliked and distrusted. I know they think I'm soft. But orders are orders. But... They don't seem to realize who we're dealing with."
"Perhaps, at least, this will be a wake-up call."
"Quite a high price to pay for it."
Yarra sighs. Her brother was - had been - an officer on the Lorgot. "Did we even hurt her?"
"We'll have to check Karnack's sensor logs, but certainly not enough to prevent Enterprise from escaping. One would imagine that we must have done some damage... but I can't say for sure. For all I know, she could be completely operational."
"Given the way things have been going, I think we have to assume the worst."
"If so, she no-sold our most powerful ship, and an escorting cruiser. Fuck."
"Alright... so, we're now down a BC, and a Jaldun. Still business as usual?"
"Central Command, in all its wisdom, says yes. For now, at least. Which means we're still alone against her, if she's still out there."
Captain's Log, USS Enterprise, Stardate 22804.3, - Nash ka'Sharren
I guess the Diplomatic Service must love me after all. If so, they're more hot and cold about it than Izzidiera was. We will be joining Endurance and Courageous to convey the Betazoid councillors to Earth.
-
Captain's Log, USS Courageous, Stardate 22804.4 - Maryam Ajam
We have been detached from Explorer Corps duty in order to join the ratification exercise for the Betazoids. It is a long trip to the far side of Federation space from where we were but by the same token, I'm thrilled to be a part of this moment in history.
-
Captain's Log, USS Miracht, Stardate 22807.4 - Michel Thuir
The Apiata just put out an emergency call for aid. A colony ship of theirs was on their way to a new world when they reported to have lost power midway through a long impulse burn, and are now two days away from falling into their new system's primary. Because of the peculiarities of the Apiata fleet, and their slower warp drives, the only ships large enough to have a chance of stabilising the Lorrisa's orbit, the Queenships, are not in range.
I have been in touch with the Sarek and we are both heading towards the system at maximum warp.
-
Captain's Log, USS Sarek, Stardate 22807.5 - Straak
After coordinating our activities with the Miracht, I am joining them in their response to the colony ship Lorrisa. Our six hour journey will take us close enough for preliminary geological sensor sweeps of two star systems, a most efficient use of our time while in transit.
-
Captain's Log, USS Polaris, Stardate 22807.8
We have rendezvoused with the Caitian Fathership Shrr'harr and collected a Federation ambassador who had come with them.
From what they have told us, our mission is to proceed to the Oriolis system, home of the Dawiar. Due to Caitian expansion, the borders of our affiliates and the Dawiar are not abutting each other. It seems this is being taken as an affront, and we will need to protect the Ambassador as he attempts to unruffle some feathers. The Miranda-class Dryad is following us to the system as reinforcements.
-
Captain's Log, USS Kearsage, Stardate 22808.2
We are responding to a distress call from our Caldonian allies looking for some aid dealing with Klingon pressure on the Londak research colony, right on their Klingon border.
It seems that the Klingons are suspicious of its purpose, and consider it to be a spy facility. The Caldonians insist it is simply an interstellar survey array, only designed for tracking the lifecycles of stars in the sector.
-
Captain's Log, USS Miracht, Stardate 22808.3
It's bedlam on the Lorrisa. One of the Power Transfer Conduits coming out of their warp core had an overload, blew one of the plasma exchanges right out. Secondary and tertiary explosions all along the ventral engineering hull.
Fifty thousand souls aboard, but already a thousand colonists are dead and more are suffering plasma burns. Our updated sickbay and medical staff have helped, but even then there's only so much we can do. I'd hoped to have seen my last of dying colonists in the RBZ, but it seems to have been a forlorn hope. Both ourselves and the Sarek have beamed as many of the colonists aboard as we can, starting with those closest to the affected hull sections, but even with ten thousand aboard apiece, there is still over twenty-five thousand colonists remaining aboard.
We must save that ship.
-
Captain's Log, USS Sarek, Stardate 22808.5
I have beamed aboard the Lorrisa with my Chief Engineer and an extended away team. Commander Saavik has the conn on the Sarek. While the Miracht spearheads the medical response, we are undertaking the engineering response.
While the Lorissa's warp drive will be inoperable for a considerable length of time, of more immediate concern is that the plasma discharge has destroyed one of the fusion reactors that power the impulse drive, flooding that bay with radiation and taking the impulse system off-line. We are equipping teams with the hazardous duty engineering suits and as much extra protection as can be jury-rigged in a short period of time.
-
Captain's Log, USS Polaris, Stardate 22808.6
We have arrived at the Oriolis system and the situation is far more tense than we expected. The Shrr'harr has remained outside the system, though only a few short minutes away by warp, at the request of the ambassador, who has beamed across to the lead Dawiar ship.
They still appear to use a large number of small ships. They are well behind the tech-curve, but they are still lean and mean machines to make up for it. I am keeping the ship at yellow alert.
-
Captain's Log, USS Miracht, Stardate 22808.7
We are encountering unexpected obstacles in our medical missions with the Apiata willfully obstructing triage. Queens with minor injuries are being pushed ahead of workers with critical wounds needing immediate attention, by the workers themselves. The would-be High Queen of the colony died in the initial accident, but I have found the next one in the hierarchy, a queen named Ozzlind. Through talking with her we have appealed to the workers for calm, and gotten ... more or less results. We are still dealing with a lot of panicked workers still aboard the Lorrisa who demand that their queens join the evacuees, even if they are well away from the damaged sectors.
But, overall, things are progressing. Starfleet Medical Command has been contacted and a hospital ship is heading here from the CBZ base at Leas Akaam, but it will be at least a day and a half before they get here. In the interim, a Queenship should be here within the hour to assist.
-
Captain's Log, USS Kearsage, Stardate 22808.9
We have helped mediate between a Klingon delegation and the Caldonians. It took a bit of work to convince the Caldonians to open up the facility for inspection, but once we managed that, we were able to take Klingon scientists through and get them to vouch for the nature of the array.
[+25 Relations with Caldonians]
-
Captain's Log, USS Sarek, Stardate 22809.0
The clean-up and restoration of capability to the Lorrisa's impulse drive systems was a non-trivial operation. The contribution of the Miracht's engineering team was invaluable. Apiata technology is robust and well-made. In particular, more so than had been assumed after the original accident. However, the damage was extensive, and we have had to combine the spare parts stores of all three ships in order to repair the damage to the magnetic constrictors of the pressure toroid.
With a combination of tractor assists and their own impulse power, we have successfully stabilised the orbit of the Lorrisa.
[+25 Relations with the Apiata, +10pp]
-
Captain's Log, USS Miracht, Stardate 22809.1
The arrival of the high Queenship of the Apiata, the Unity, has been invaluable. Starfleet doctors are experienced with many species, but knowledge of Apiata biology is still in short supply. Doctors from the Unity working from our sick bays and their own have helped process many more colonists.
As the situation returns to some flavour of normalcy, we have started ferrying our evacuated colonists to the surface of their new homeworld on the third planet.
[Apiata colony saved, +10pp, +10rp from medical experience]
-
Captain's Log, USS Dryad, Stardate 22809.7
The Battle of the Oriolis system was an ugly, dogged sort of affair. The Shrr'harr showing up with all weapons lit up like Christmas trees was crucial in order to evacuate the survivors of the Polaris. The Ambassador remains trapped, however. I can only hope that she can leverage her influence and continue negotiations from the inside.
We got blindsided at the start, the rotten sneaks. Turns out that they've made good on a lot of that technological disparity, and their little ships were kitted out with torpedoes of Cardassian make, turning them into much more dangerous propositions. The Shrr'harr was toasted a little, and they lost two Swarmers, though we also gave the Dawiar a very black eye for their trouble.
From what I'm hearing from Admiral Kr'Sorr, the Caitians and Dawiar are now in a state of war.
[USS Polaris destroyed, 1 Officer, 1 Tech casualty]
[Caitians and Dawiar at war, -50 Relations with Dawiar, +25 Relations with Caitians]
One Excelsior-class ship (Starfleet Build Order NCC-2012) commenced, at 40 Eridani A Shipyards
One Centaur-A class ship (Starfleet Build Order NCC-2108) to commence in Q2 at Utopia Planitia Shipyards
One Centaur-A refit for USS Yukikaze (NCC-2101) to commence in Q2 at Utopia Planitia Shipyards
United Earth Excelsior-class to commence in Q2 at Utopia Planitia Shipyards
Unnamed Excelsior (Starfleet Build Order NCC-2008) will be christened USS S'harien.
Current Personnel Pool:
Standard Starfleet: 27.9 Officer, 36.4 Enlisted, 20.95 Techs
Explorer Corps: 7.75 Officer, 8.90 Enlisted, 10.25 Techs
-
USS S'harien at 40 Eridani A Shipyard
Crewing from Explorer Corps, 6 Officer, 5 Enlisted, 5 Technician
Crew Recovered from the loss of USS Polaris:
1 Officer, 4 Enlisted, 1 Technician
Casualties: 1 Officer, 1 Technician
-
Result
Standard Starfleet: 28.9 Officer, 40.4 Enlisted, 21.95 Techs
Explorer Corps: 1.75 Officer, 3.90 Enlisted, 5.25 Techs
Joint Stafleet Intelligence Command-Federation Diplomatic Service Update on Foreign Shipbuilding, 2307.Q1
Members and affiliates are both reporting activity.
Most notably, Andoria has commissioned a Centaur, the Amarkians a Brieca-class Heavy Escort and the Tellarite shipyard at Ord Grind Duk has launched a Constellation. The Vulcans will commission a Constellation of their own in 2308.Q3. Among the Affiliates, a long-delayed Turtle-ship has launched from Lagan-Shir. A new 'Stinger' frigate has been launched at Alrizzine IV by the Apiata.
In terms of builds commencing the largest news is that a United Earth Excelsior will be built at Utopia Planitia with the blessing of Starfleet and the Federation Council. This will be the first Explorer to be built by a member world in sixty years. Other than that Andoria is commencing two new Centaur-A builds, and starting the refit of a third. Tellar is delaying new construction a year in order to save trained crew for an Excelsior build in the next year or two. In addition to their Excelsior-build, United Earth is refitting a pair of Centaurs at Green Hook Fleet Yards in Vega. The Amarki have laid down a new cruiser at Leas Akaam. The Apiata have started a Forager and a Stinger, and the Gaeni a Tech-Cruiser.
The Caitians are busily shifting to a war footing. They have cleared their four remaining 600kt berths and have ordered Swarmers in each, and are planning for a new shipyard.
Report on USS Polaris, Amarki Sector Fleet
Admiral Kahurangi,
We have confirmed that the USS Polaris (NCC-1813) has been destroyed in the Action of 22809 against hostile ships of the Dawiar in the Oriolis System with the loss of 83 crew.
The ship has been officially removed from the Naval Registry. Most of her crew has been recovered by the USS Dryad and the Caitian ship Shrr'harr, and returned to Starbase 5.
Another star falls from the firmament.
- Vice Admiral Sousa
Diplomatic Appeal from the Caitians
We have received a request by the Caitians for access to a berth large enough for a 2.5mt ship. The Fathership Shrr'harr received damage fighting alongside Starfleet against the Dawiar. However, their own suitable berth is currently occupied with a new Fathership.
[ ] Allow (Will occupy UP Berth B for 6 months, +15pp, +10 Relations with Caitians)
[ ] Deny
Enterprise gracefully races through space on wings of light and science, chasing after the pair of Cardassian cruisers.
The slow flashing of yellow alert throughout the ship accompanies the crew's actions, seven hundred and fifty battle hardened and elite officers and crew at their battle stations waiting on word from their senior officers and their esteemed Captain.
Tactical Officer Jennifer Zhang nods in satisfaction as lights burn a steady green across her panel. Record time, "Ma'am, all sections are reporting ready."
Captain Nash Ka'Sharren nods in satisfaction with a smile (that is to be frank, a little bit smug),on her face. "Very good Ms Zhang." The Andorian officer settles into her chair. "Mr Zaardmani, how are our Cardassian friends doing?"
The science officer looks up from his console, "Karnack and Trager are still on course directly away from Indoria, their current course will take them into Thirty Three Fujit," he frowns, "Hard to get accurate readings at this high warp though, Trager especially is using her warp bubble to obscure our scans. I can't tell you if their weapons are hot at the moment."
Commander Leaniss tilts her head and frowns from her mission station, "Hopefully they aren't ready to fight and we can sort out this whole 'they said, we said' thing with the Indorians."
Ka'Sharren leans back comfortably, "I hope so. Either way it's a nice day for taking My Girl out for a run, letting her stretch her legs a little."
The science officer raises his voice in warning, "The Cardassians are passing through a subspace dimensional incline… No danger to us, but it is playing havoc with my sensors" He pauses. "It looks like the Cardassians are dropping out of warp in the system."
Nash smirks, "I guess they got tired of the chase," the grin gets wider, "Mr. Stol, take us through after them if you would."
"Passing through the subspace incline in twenty seconds," the Science officer calls out. "If anyone was curious."
As Enterprise prepares to follow the Cardassians into the 33 Fujit system, Captain Ka'Sharren feels excitement and a tingle of energy rushes up her spine. Time to say hello to the Cardassians.
Nash frowns, on the screen ahead is only a single Cardassian cruiser, not the two that they'd been chasing. "Report."
There is an awkward pause from the science officer. "I'm only picking up the Karnack, it ... looks like the Trager never came this way." He ducks his head a little in embarrassment at being tricked by the Cardassians.
"Damn, a false trail!" the Andorian's smirk fades into an angry snarl as she realises she and her crew have been tricked. The Trager is probably back at Indoria with some more diplomatic badmouthing of the Federation and Starfleet. Her eyes narrow a fraction of a millimeter as she regards the remaining Cruiser, "Hm, I notice the Karnack is sticking around?"
Zhang watches the ship intently on her Tactical display, carefully picking out her target points if things go hot, "Yes, sir, it's moving away to maintain relative velocity, weapons unpowered but shields up."
"Maintaining distance?" repeats Nash, brow furrowed in puzzlement, "What could they be doing?"
Commander Zaardmani's eyes go wide as they are drawn to a section of his display where a new signature has passed through the subspace incline, "Captain! New ship! Cardassian signature, but half-again as large, it's right on top of us, weapons powered!"
Enterprise begins to shudder from the Cardassian weapon impacts, even as her Vulcan helmsman reacts near instantaneously to roll the agile Explorer away.
"Weapons online! Return Fire!" Ka'Sharren calls out, gripping her chair, her expression angry and defiant, "It's an Ambush!"
"Returning Fire ma'am!" Zhang calls out. The new ship is a completely new class to Starfleet, but judging by the yellow-gold vessel's layout, she can make some quick calculations on where to fire for maximum effect. Already she's begun calculations for disabling the Karnack if she moves into the Tactical Officer's firing arcs.
Phaser fire lances out from Enterprise's disc as Stol dives her away from the Battlecruiser and also away from the Jaldun cruiser who is closing in hungrily from in-system.
Ka'Sharren rides the shifting of her ship as the internal dampeners fluctuate under the sustained fire from two directions, "Zaardmani, what can you tell me about this ugly new friend?"
"I'm looking for anything, but I'm not exactly a full team of tactical analysts," he hammers his console with one hand, the other holding himself steady in his chair, "Zhang, I'm updating your plot."
The graceful form of Enterprise fires lances of golden energy and launches red streaks of torpedoes at her pursuers. The Jaldun spits arcs of fire and hissing air as carefully targeted lances from the Starship cut through her shields to seek out her weapons arrays.
The return fire is just as accurate, the Cardassians own fire concentrating on the rear of Enterprise reaching out towards her Nacelles, cutting an ugly black gash into her port side as plasma pours out.
Commander Mrr'Shan, the first officer, watches with golden eyes as ugly red splotches light up on her own board: damage reports, "Damage to decks fifteen, fourteen and thirteen between frames twenty to twenty eight," she holds tight as Enterprise jostles again, "Rear shields down to 46 percent!" she hisses, "And a hit on the port nacelle, we've lost warp capability."
"Bring us around, see if we can make a firing pass on that Battlecruiser," the Captain orders, "Looks like they want us to stay at the dance. Let's make them regret that! Target Karnack!"
Stol tries to roll the rear section away from the Cardassian pursuers. Bringing the smaller Jaldun cruiser 'under' Enterprise's saucer section, and letting Zhang pour withering fire downwards.
Zhang pumps her fist in the air, "Direct hit ma'am, she's dropping back, bleeding air!"
Her celebration is cut short as the Cardassian Battlecrusier uses the Excelsior class starship's distraction to pound her from above, concentrating on her upper phaser arrays.
The human tactical officer screams as acrid black and blue smoke erupts from the rear of the bridge. She tries to drop under her console, but the damage is already done, most of her body is covered in angry black burns as she collapses.
"MA'AM, SHIELDS HAVE COLLAPSED!" Mrr'Shan calls over the din of battle, the screams of the dying tactical officer, "UPPER PHASER ARRAYS OFFLINE!"
The Captain holds herself in her seat. They can still beat this thing, the Cardassian Cruiser is out and the Battlecruiser must have been taking a pounding, "BRING HER UNDER US STOL," her attention shifts, "SAM TAKE REMOTE CONTROL! FIRE!"
The Caitain has already begin routing the remaining Enterprise weapon systems to her console. Enterprise might be dying but she still had teeth.
"HOW ARE THEY DOING?" Ka'Sharren calls out, as Enterprise shudders under another assault, the ripping and tearing of metal audible throughout the ship, "MR ZAARDMANI?!" she turns around. The science station has collapsed, she can't see her science officer - or what remains of him - any more.he's... glad of it.
Something explodes on the bridge and Ka'Sharren feels pain across her upper body and something wet on her face, she puts a hand up in shock and pulls it away bloody.
Ka'Sharren looks back up, Stol has slumped out of his spot, the Navigator next to him had already been killed by shrapnel at some point earlier; as Nash crawls towards the helm station she's shocked that she didn't even note the woman's death until now. She tries to put it out of her mind. She can grieve later.
As the Captain pulls herself into the helm station, she watches another brace of torpedoes track towards her beloved Enterprise.
The rocking is more violent than ever and smoke begins to almost fully engulf the bridge, and Nash wonders if she's the last one alive on it. If she's going to outlive her friends.
"MA'AM." no, it looks like her oldest friend is there with her still, "WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT!" Samhaya Mrr'Shan calls out, miraculously nearly untouched by the battle, "I AM CALLING FOR EVACUATION!" the Caitian yells as the ship shakes again.
Nash decides that if Enterprise and her crew are going to die, the least they can do is take the Cardassian bastards with them, and she pulls the stricken ship around and aims her for the heart of the alien Battlecrusier. "WE BOARDED ENTERPRISE TOGETHER! LOOKS LIKE WE'RE LEAVING HER TOGETHER SAM!"
As Ka'Sharren plunges her love towards the enemy, golden-yellow hull rapidly approaching, she hears her First officer one last time, "WARP CORE IS BREACHI - A TEMPORAL WAVE?".
As last words go, they were very confusing.
Captain Nash Ka'Sharren sits in her command chair in the center of the USS Enterprise-B bridge.
Nash Ka'Sharren blinks. She should be dead. On the other hand, she remembers her First Officer yelling something about a "Temporal Wave?"
Nash frowns, this is exactly like… she remembers? The Captain knows what she said next, "Report," the word is odd on her tongue, a sense of Deja vu that she can touch, taste, and smell.
There is an awkward pause from the science officer, "I'm only picking up the Karnack, it ... looks like the Trager never came this way," he ducks his head a little in embarrassment at being tricked by the Cardassians.
This is exactly like her memory. A memory of ten minutes ago? She looks around in confusion, "We're back ... you all remember too?"
The Caitian first officer looks at her Captain with her head tilted in curiosity, "Captain? Are you okay?"
Nash becomes more certain that this isn't some odd deja vu, she really experienced a fight with Cardassians, and then towards the end… "Yes! there was a temporal wave as the warp core was breaching…"
Mrr'Shan may be confused, but if her Captain senses trouble with Enterprise… "Warp core!? Engineering, this is-"
The Andorian's head snaps around, the warp core is not the threat. "No! I'm-"
Commander Zaardmani's attention is ripped away from his Captain's curious behavior by an ugly indicator flashing on his panel. "Sensor contact, another Cardassian!"
The second battle goes little better than the first.
Nash Ka'Sharren snaps back from a broken heap on Enterprise's bridge to her Chair, once again unharmed. Is she dead? Did she die? Is this some sort of afterlife? An eternal torture for her failure to save her crew, for her hubris; it is her punishment to fail them over and over again for eternity.
No. She refuses to accept that. She hasn't had the time to examine her situation, but it must have something to do with that Temporal Wave. She has a chance to save her crew, to make up for her failure. She will do this. She will save her crew.
Ka'Sharren is distracted by her science officer, "I'm only picking up the Karnack, it …"
Taking control of the situation, she cuts him off, voice irritated, "-looks like the Trager never came this way, yes, I know. Tactical, power to weapons!"
Her First Officer objects, they may have fought the Cardassians, but they are not at war, Karnack has done nothing to raise Enterprise's ire. "Captain, the Karnack's weapons are unpowered."
Nash remains unmoved, "It's a ruse. Helm, ahead full impulse, attack pattern-"
The Caitian makes a snap judgement, she's known her Captain for years, but this behavior is entirely out of character. Has she snapped? Some stress from the Cardassians unhinged her? There will be time to find out later, she hits the comm unit on her panel. "Medical and Security to the bridge." She looks up, face set in a stubborn mask. "Captain, I'm rel-"
Commander Zaardmani's attention is ripped away from his Captain's curious behavior by an ugly indicator flashing on his panel. "New sensor contact!"
Ka'Sharren lets out a frustrated growl, and gestures angrily at the screen, "THERE! OKAY? MR STOL, Evasive maneuvers!"
Enterprise suffers major damage much sooner than the last two times that Nash remembers, the distraction of her outburst had set the crew off their game enough that the ambush was a complete success, the Battlecruiser piercing Enterprise's shields and cutting into her graceful nacelles with clearly planned precision.
Nash is cradling a broken arm when she hears the warnings from the engineering station, followed shortly by a return to her chair, utterly unhurt.
There is an awkward pause from the science officer. "I'm only picking up the Karnack, it ... looks like the Trager never came this way." He ducks his head a little in embarrassment at being tricked by the Cardassians.
Nash sighs, it looks like she's going to have to play along, 'In Character' as it were, at least until the Cardassians have been dealt with, "Okay, have it your way," she growls to herself.
Her first officer looks towards her commanding officer with curiosity. "Captain?"
Ka'Sharren ignores her XO, her time must be carefully managed. "Mr Zaardmani, status of the Karnack?"
The Human studies his panel carefully, his embarrassment about his being tricked focusing his mind. "Shields up, weapons unpowered, I believe they're just observing us for the moment."
Ka'Sharren thinks for a brief moment… How would she hide a charged weapon bank? It comes to her easily. "Scan the conduits leading to their phaser banks, they may be pulling the same trick we did at Amarkia."
It takes only a second for the talented officer to obey, "They ... huh, yes, Captain, that's exactly what they're doing."
FINALLY, Ka'Sharren thinks to herself. "This is an ambush! Full power to weapons! Helm, full impulse!"
Zaardmani's attention is ripped from Karnack to another Cardassian contact, "Big Cardassian ship on sensors!"
After that everything begins to run together. Ka'Sharren lives Deja vu, even entirely new experiences become hard to place as her actions begins to blur together through a haze of exhaustion, and she begins to have trouble remember what she's told people, what exactly has happened. At one point she begins to give orders based on a series of maneuvers that that Enterprise hasn't made yet, and thirty seconds later never would.
---------------
Nash groans under the weight of the ceiling strut, trying to force it off of her. She reaches out to try to grab the disruptor of a fallen Cardassian soldier.
She tries to ignore the body of her Tactical officer beneath it; the Human's red essence slowly spreading across the floor.
Ka'Sharren squirms beneath the weight hearing the telltale whine of phaser fire all across the bridge as well as screams and thick meaty thumps that she doesn't think about too closely.
She finally stops. Her fingers are just centimeters away from the barrel of the weapon, but any more movement and she is certain that her spine will snap. The pain indicates that it already wants to.
She goes limp, her head lolling so that she can mostly see the ceiling and the fore of her bridge. She is just in time to see a Cardassian break his rifle over Samhaya's head. Unfortunately her neck breaks along with it and she drops.
As far as she can tell it is just her, two Cardassians, and the blur of motion that is her Vulcan helmsman: Lieutenant Commander Stol.
The Vulcan helmsman moves gracefully across the bridge, his every movement a carefully planned and executed maneuver.
Stol streaks between a pair of Cardassians, one of them opening fire and killing his unarmed colleague. With a snarl of hate the scaled grey soldier turns to track the Vulcan, but he is too slow, his target has already planned for this and cut his momentum, redirecting the rest back towards the Cardassian's face with a grunt of pain as his enemy drops.
Stol slows and comes around towards his Captain. He kneels down next to her and lifts the strut with his Vulcan might, shifting it a couple of decimeters.
The Andorian crawls out, her hands reaching across the bridge, pulling herself on a piece of heavy debris; her legs are no longer cooperating and her abdomen is screaming in pain.
There is a thick thud from behind her and she can feel her body move as he reaches down to pick her up, "We must move, Ma'am. You require medical attention elsewhere."
"This is just an excuse to…" she starts before the pain of breathing gets to her.
As Nash's vision starts to go black, she can hear the telltale whine of more transporters.
The next moment she is on the bridge again, awake and whole. Pain gone. She tears up seeing her officers whole once more and begins again. Again.
-------------
The Cardassians have boarded. Again. The fighting is fierce, lasting nearly an hour, even with the Cardassians using outside fire from the Karnack to lance through the hull and destroy pockets of resistance.
Ka'Sharren has ordered her people to fall back in pockets around transporter-scrambled vital systems; The Cardassians have apparently decided that some of Enterprise is worth taking intact.
Commander Mrr'Shan goes down, a point of Cardassian fire hitting her above her armoured vest and catching her in the neck.
Ka'Sharren watches her friend go down as if the Caitian was in slow motion. It hurts as much now as it did the first time.
Ka'Sharren ducks back around the corner and fires at the Cardassians, their own phasers leaping back down the corridor towards her. The weight of fire is too much again.
Captain Ka'Sharren, Lieutenant Commander Leaniss and a few other Starfleet personnel can do nothing but fall back farther towards engineering.
As the emergency bulkheads shut around engineering, Nash turns towards her Armaki ex-wife. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: am I still in the will?"
Leaniss looks at her ex with wide eyes and gives a bark of surprised amusement.
"The answer is no. The Federation is a moneyless society and my parents left all the good heirlooms to my siblings. Apparently they didn't expect me to live this long!"
Leaniss sorts through her remaining armaments, "I'm not going to lie to you, wifey, I fully expect to outlive you... If only because I have one more power pack for my phaser than you." she pauses for a moment. "Wow. Wifey translates really poorly. It sounds way better in Amarki. Is that seriously what it sounds like?" She kneels down with Ka'Sharren and the remaining red uniformed Enterprise crew.
The group redivides their equipment, Ka'Sharren keeping up her lighthearted banter in an attempt to dispel some of the gloom. "I find it endearing! English isn't my first language either, so it still sounds exotic."
Nash takes another two power packs from a security officer who seemed to have an entire arsenal tucked behind his armour vest. "Holy Ice, Acheson, you're not a Lieutenant, you're an armoury. Good man."
The Human Lieutenant smiles grimly, "The Earth Scout's motto is 'Be prepared' -and I am prepared."
The Captain gives him a grin as she checks the charge on her phaser. "I'll have to put you up for a promotion after we're done."
Arthur Acheson just gives gives her a tight smile and a salute as he moves to check the power on his rifle.
Ka'Sharren begins directing her people to firing positions as the Cardassians begin cutting open the emergency doors. Considering that those doors are designed to keep some really ugly stuff in main Engineering, they also serve well to keep people out of main Engineering.
Nash and Leaniss take a position high on a catwalk, both prone and sighted in on the door.
"So. Ever thought about taking me up on that whole getting remarried thing?" Nash asks curiously, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position, and tucking her hair away for the thousandth time.
Leaniss focuses her attention on the main engineering entrance. "I've thought about it."
Ka'Sharren takes a quick glance to her side, catching a glimpse of a determined face. "And?"
"I'll tell you after we win"
Nash smiles for Leaniss, before turning back towards the Cardassians. "As good a motivation as any."
It is at this point that the Cardassians lose their patience and detonate a series of breaching charges, recently arrived by shuttle from the Lorgot, sending the entire door straight back into the warp core housing.
Ka'Sharren has enough time to kiss Leaniss, before the Enterprise suffers a critical existence failure and she is redeposited on the Enterprise bridge once again, feeling vaguely unsatisfied.
-------------
Kas'Sharren looks up at her Cardassian captors with unconcealed defiance, at least her people have escaped. Some of them.
A Cardassian Glinn steps through the corpse of Lieutenant Commander Zhang, his hard grey boots crunching obscenely through her exposed rib cages. He steps through her body, kicking up little droplets of red.
"Captain Ka'Sharren?" he asks carefully. He's already killed three Andorians out of mistaken identity. He doesn't want to be embarrassed in front of his men again.
"It's funny that you should ask." She locks eyes with him. "I was just wondering how big my fan club was, and here you are, a prime member."
His mouth twists in hate. "My cousin is married to Mila Lang," he says seconds before he pulls the trigger on his disruptor rifle and Nash finds herself back on her bridge.
-------------
Zhang hammers the panel. "FUCK. FUCK!" She shudders, sucking in a deep breath. "Sorry ma'am. I apologize. That was the last phaser coupling."
Ka'Sharren mentally decides that playing dead wasn't a good idea.
She puts on a smile, patting her Tactical officer on the back, "At least we caught the Lorgot with her shields down. Good work Ms. Zhang."
Zhang picks at her cuffs, "They still damaged us badly ma'am"
Ka'Sharren has a lopsided grin, "Yes, but if your calculations were correct we blinded them long enough for the shuttles to escape." she rests her hands on the console watching as the self destruct counts down to two minutes.
Zhang checks another panel, "Karnack is still held in our tractor, and she's begun launching escape craft," she lets out a breath and bites her bottom lip.
Ka'Sharren moves behind the younger woman, "How are you feeling?" Her gaze is far away, as the Andorian remembers watching Zhang catch a phaser blast in the torso fifty minutes --Or was it two hours ago?
"I'm fine ma'am." Her voice breaks into a sob as she watches the timer race towards sixty seconds. "I don't want to die." She catches herself with a deep shuddering breath. "I apologize ma'am. I volunteered. I knew what I was…" she swallows.
Nash steps next to Zhang. "They won't forget it Ms Zhang." She points at the quickly shrinking dots of Enterprise's shuttles and escape pods. "I will never stop fighting for you or anyone else on my crew. Not now. Not ever. If I save even one, I've done my duty." She looks away briefly. "I know you, Jennifer. You are an excellent officer. You are courageous and intelligent and you've stood up defiantly each time the call has come."
The Tactical officer looks up at her Captain; Nash is far away, remembering the last ten - no wait, eleven - times, that this woman has gone above and beyond. Each time frightened but pushing past it to do her duty.
The timer races down towards its final tick, and she holds out her hand in the traditional human gesture. "It was a pleasure working with you Jennifer."
Zhang takes the extended hand in her own. Her palms are sweaty, but her grip is firm. "The pleasure was all mine Capt- Nash." She smiles. "Goodbye."
The counter reaches zero and after a single moment of eternity Nash blinks and turns her head, catching sight of Jennifer Zhang head down, diligently working at her console. Nash opens her mouth to issue a different set of orders. Hopefully this time she can keep that young officer alive as well.
----------------
The halls of the Cardassian Battlecruiser echo with distant phaser fire.
Nash Ka'Sharren and her team hold position outside a door while her engineer studies a mess of exposed chips and wiring, the covering plate set against the wall beneath the opening.
He finally shrugs and reaches in to start tearing components out, "Not half bad work. They did a lot with not much." Somethings sizzles and sparks fly out before he smashes something crunchy with the butt of his phaser. "Less safety redundancies than we have though," he finishes as the lights in the corridor dim and the door slides halfway open.
Nash nods and a security officer rushes through, followed by another as the two Human men sweep their coruscating orange beams across the room, catching the pair of nervous Cardassian defenders unprepared with phaser blasts to the torso.
"Probably regular crew" says one of the men as Nash and Bazeck follow, the Captain taking a last look in both directions down the darkened corridor as she does so.
"Poor bastards," mutters the Tellarite, shaking his head sadly. "Probably engineers. What a waste."
"How long will it take?" asks Nash watching with interest as her engineer begins prodding at the controls.
"Hell if I know," There is a relieved click of a panel coming off and Bazeck sets it aside gently, "Severing completely alien control lines isn't exactly easy."
"I have full confidence in you, Bazeck," Ka'Sharren knows that he can do it. He did it two times ago. Or was it three? No two times. After the second failed suicide shuttle plan.
The two humans and Nash shut the door, straining intently at the golden metal, the squeal of resisting machinery loud in the air.
Bazeck shakes his head as he works, loudly talking to himself, "Idiotic waste. I would love to talk to one of their engineers. They certainly know how to make their material last."
Nash watches him work, her eyes closing heavily. How long has it been since she last slept? She's perfectly awake each loop. But the mental stress is really starting to catch up with her. She pointedly doesn't ask herself how many more tries she has in her. Because the answer is: as many as it takes.
The Tellarite cocks his to the side for a moment, frowning, then his face lights up, "Oh! That's damn clever!" he says, with something approaching admiration, and reaches in to remove a single wire. "There. Control lines severed."
Nash grins. Enterprise may be dead in space, but many of her crew are alive. Finally. She takes out her communicator, "Sam! You have control of auxiliary command yet?"
"Almost…" There is a whine in the background and a skittering thud. "We do now Ma'am!" The Caitian sounds quite pleased with herself.
"Stand by." The Andorian turns to her engineer. "Can you get me on the address system?"
"Are you serious?" he asks, flicking a pair of switches, "Go ahead"
Nash smiles and begins to relax. "Cardassian crew. Your control systems are in our hands, please surrender now before we turn your own defences against you," she tries to keep her voice calm but is having a bit of difficulty: these people have killed her a couple of dozen times already. "You will not be harmed. We merely wish the return of ourselves and our vessel to Federation space. And I will do my all to insure that you are returned to your homes and families as soon as possible." It was a fluke that she'd succeeded so far, a long shot that's paid off once out of three times. Most of her crew are alive (Even if her beloved Enterprise is an air-bleeding wreck) and they might get home alive.
Ka'Sharren allows herself to feel real, actual hope.
Then the Lorgot shudders violently and she is thrown against a wall.
Bazeck has somehow managed to cling to the Cardassian console, "Some Idiot set off the forward magazine," There is another lurching shudder and Ka'Sharren stumbles forward as Bazeck says rude Tellarite words. "The warp core is breaching!"
The two Starfleet officers look at each other and the Tellarite shrugs as if to say 'we had a good run.'
'This isn't going to work.' Ka'Sharren thinks in the brief moment before she find herself back in her chair, new orders spilling out.
----------------
"We have another hour at best," says Commander Diego Zaardmani as he tosses his crimson jacket on the pile with a dozen others. "The fact that we're only sweating to death just means that my shield modifications are working"
Ka'Sharren has come around to trying to use the only piece of terrain in the 33 Fujit system: The star itself. Running around in circles doesn't work well when the enemy can go in two directions. Hiding as close to the star's surface as possible seemed to be worth at least worth a try.
It had taken the science officer a few vital minutes to relay the modifications to the engineering staff. It is clear that the loss of Enterprise officers and crew while he worked feverishly at his console weighs heavily on him. His usual arrogant demeanor is dulled.
He sits down heavily on the floor across from Nash, sweat dripping down his face. "Hot enough for you?"
The Andorian just lets out a miserable sigh and gently shakes her head. The heat is almost worse than the sense of failure catching up to her.
Only a half hour of inaction and her mind keeps replaying her failures. She slumps further against the sickbay wall, watching many of her crew miserable in the heat
No! She must be strong, for them. "I've worked up better sweats than this before," she says with a grin, stiffening her posture.
"Heh" his eyes dart away, "Do you think--?"
"No. You did your best. And it was good enough. No one else could have given us the numbers fast enough to be helpful. You saved lives."
His eyes say 'Not fast enough' but his voice says, "Well with you around we never give less than our best," He looks away. "After all, you give you best for us."
She wonders if her best is really good enough.
"I really appreciate it," The Human is looking across the sickbay, watching the love of his life administer to heatsick crew, "Not many people could put up with me. You know?"
"Are you serious? Compared to my fathers, you're not bad at all. You just know how good you are," Ka'Sharren chuckles weakly, the heat is really starting to get to her.
"I am absolutely serious Captain," he gives her a hard lopsided grin, "You are the best Captain I've had. You have a knack for keeping me from being an idiot," he looks back across the room, watching Doctor Asurva approach, "I needed the help."
"Doctor," Ka'Sharren nods. "How is the crew?"
The doctor kneels down next to the two, hypospray in hand, she purses her lips. "I've had to put a few into medically induced comas." She indicates for the two to bare their necks. "I'm going to give you a dose of Catcorzaphine, it should…" she shrugs, discarding the technical explanation, "help your body to keep itself cool."
"Cool!" says Zaardmani, grinning.
"Captain. I just wanted to say thank you for all you've done. Your example is keeping the crew going," The Orion smiles gently, "It's so hard sometimes? Isn't it?"
You have no idea the Andorian thinks to herself.
"It just think to myself: What would Jim Kirk Do?" The Andorian has a sly smile. "It's advice that serves me well in both command and in romance," She doesn't actually ask that. If her instincts align with those of one of the Great legends of the Federation? Then she supposes that just means that her instincts are good.
Of course, now she does wonder what the legendary Captain Kirk would do in her situation.
"I love that she never stops caring," the science officer says with a smile as he watches the Orion Doctor move on to the next set of patients. "You know. It's ironic we killed a Cardassian ship with a star and now the Cardassians are going to kill us with a star."
Ka'Sharren blinks at Zaardmani. How did she miss that?
"Theoretically. If we had the chance, how'd you go about getting a flare out of this star?"
His brows furrow, "Can't give you details because our sensors are blinded…" his eyebrows get even closer together, "Three strikes. At. Hmm... a few of the S'Tral points on the star's southern hemisphere would be easiest?"
"How long do you-" the Captain is cut off by a chirping communicator. "Nash here," she lifts it to her mouth.
It's Stol from his position in the starboard control room. Only Vulcans were capable of operating in that section now, "We seem to be picking up a wide band transmission from the Cardassians beamed towards the star."
Ka'Sharren stands up and begins to make her way across the sickbay. "I assume it's their surrender. Patch it through to Doctor Asurva's office."
"Aye ma'am."
...It's Gul Miran? Presumably the Cardassians brought a semi-friendly face to talk to her. "...to USS Enterprise. Captain Ka'Sharren, this is Gul Miran. Give up. Your vessel is trapped, your ship and your crew will die with you if you continue this pointless resistance…" the image is grainy and formatted oddly, but it is definitely Gul Miran.
Ka'Sharren blinks. This is new. The Cardassians have never bothered with quarter before; she distinctly remembers being executed after capture at least twice, maybe three times. Clearly she's annoyed the Cardassians enough that they're trying something a bit less… murderous.
"...I cannot guarantee that you or your officers will be returned to the Federation, I am authorized to tell you that they will all live in custody on a penal colony. They will live and they will live with minimal hardship. Please, Captain Ka'Sharren. Nash. Think of your people…"
Ka'Sharren does. She considers that her resistance has bought them only death, time after time after time. Perhaps this sign of reasonableness will encourage the Cardassians to reach out to the Federation. Perhaps even peace is possible.
She knows that she is reaching… but perhaps? She needs to talk to her officers.
She turns to leave when Miran's tone suddenly changes, the Cardassian Gul turns to face offscreen, enraged, "LORGOT IS DOING WHAT?!?!? THOSE DI-" the feed cuts off and Stol's stoic face appears in Miran's place.
"The Battlecruiser is firing on the star. Her current pattern indicates that we will be fatally hit in under a minute." He is impassive.
Ka'Sharren stands up. She should fight and die on her feet, "Take us up Mr Stol. Fight the ship. "
"Aye ma'am" comes the terse response, as Enterprise shakes.
As the shields collapse the heat flashes in, incinerating the vessel and its crew; Captain Nash Ka'Sharren is filled with terrible resolve to return the favour.
And she's back on her bridge, burgeoning hope fills her, she has another plan, she starts with a combination of words that have worked to not distract her bridge in the past, "This is an ambush! Helm, hard over towards the star, full impulse! Zaardmani, prepare to fire an EM Pulse towards these points on the star!" She taps quickly on the arm of her chair transmitting the coordinates of the S'Tral points that Zaardmani had given her minutes ago. "We're going to trigger a solar flare and fly through the loop of the stellar ejecta to buy time to deal with the Karnack and keep the trailing ship off us."
Stol reacts without thought, but Zaardmani loves thought, he can't get started without it, and thinking it over, it makes no sense. "Captain, there is no trai-... whoa! New contact, big Cardassian!" He hurries to comply now.
Ka'Sharren takes a deep breath, "Twenty-seventh time's the charm, let's go, Enterprise!"
Nash isn't actually at all certain that it has been twenty seven times, it could be twenty, or it could be fifty, it's all begun to bleed together in her memory, and she's growing concerned that it might become a real physiological issue. She's going to give a counselor a lot of interesting work.
She pushes the thought out of her head as she turns to face the voice of her XO. "Twenty... seventh? What?"
"I'll tell you later Sam. It is a long story."
Enterprise races ahead, 'falling' directly towards the system's star, the Cardassian Battlecruiser hesitating in confusion, and the Karnack lancing out with a single glancing phaser strike as Enterprise, shoots past.
The Battlecruiser picks up her pace, her Captain will not be denied the prestige of the kill. His name will live on in (secret) fame once he pulls of this perfect Ambush of Enterprise.
The Karnack falls in behind and on the starboard wing of her larger compatriot, Cardassian doctrine emphasises combined fire, not individual heroism.
Zaardmani works furiously at his station, now grasping instinctively the reason for his Captain's orders, and his fingers fly across the panel at incredible speed.
"Glancing shot from the Battlecruiser" Zhang reports, scanning the large vessel for weaknesses that she can take advantage of when Enterprise inevitably turns to fight.
Nash leans forward in her seat, "Ease up Mr. Stol, let them gain on us. Defensive pattern Besh,"
The Enterprise begins to slalom back and forth across her path, her saucer dipping just enough for Lieutenant Commander Zhang to launch short barrages at Enterprise's pursuers… and giving a reasonable explanation for her allowing her attackers to gain on her.
"Dip and strike. Dip and strike," the Tactical officer mutters to herself as she highlights targets on her plot.
Nash watches the Cardassian gain, carefully judging the distance, "Mr Zaardmani?"
"Almost…" his fingers play one last equation into the deflector control system, "GOT IT MA'AM!" he reports triumphantly.
"Fire on my signal" Nash concentrates, "Mr Stol, aim inside of the stellar ejecta loop."
The Vulcan does not deign to reply with a complaint that that would be the only logical order.
Ka'Sharren waits, feeling a slight jostling from the Battlecruiser landing a hit, and then… "NOW! EXECUTE!"
Enterprise's deflector dish emits a tri-part beam of EM radiation, the streams aimed at precise spots on the star at precise frequencies.
The reaction is near immediate, the star itself seems unmoved, but the surface reacts violently, throwing a violently destructive loop of roiling plasma into space.
Stol brings Enterprise through the loop near dead center, and Karnack manages to peel off fast enough to avoid the brunt of the starstuff, though she still suffers enough damage to put her in critical condition. And a brace of torpedoes from Enterprise puts her out of the fight nearly instantaneously after.
But Lorgot takes the full brunt of the solar flare, her shields shred near instantly, and she spins wildly off course… and Enterprise is there too, targetting her phaser arrays, and engines, taking them out in seconds.
Zhang allows herself a quiet fist pump as she watches her attacks strike home, "Both Cardassian vessels disabled, ma'am."
There is fire in Nash Ka'Sharren's eyes as she watches the Cardassian vessels laying helplessly before her. "Good," she shakes her head, putting on a broad smile for her crew "Good work everyone!"
Zhang's attention is brought back to her panel. "Ma'am. The Cardassians are abandoning Lorgot!"
"Her warp core is going critical," Zaardmani reports.
There is a brief moment of hesitation before Nash responds, "Transport lifesigns to Karnack!"
"Aye ma'am"
A few moments later the Cardassian Battlecruiser explodes into her component atoms, and Ka'Sharren nods in satisfaction. She has not yet tired of that sight. She leans back in her chair trying to hold herself from collapsing in sheer mental exhaustion. "How many did we get?"
Mrr'Shann checks her console, "We transferred about twenty over." Her whiskers twitch. "There was... a lot of interference," she adds sadly.
Better than they deserve, Nash tells herself coolly. She straightens up, looking almost imperious. "Hail Karnack," she instructs.
The screen shifts to a static-filled image of Karnack's bridge, the Gul holding himself up out of pride, clearly in pain, "I will not surrender this ship. Destroy us if you will, but I will never bend the knee."
Ka'Sharren glares down her nose at this… being who has been involved in the deaths of her crew multiple times. "I have no intention of asking for your surrender. Your ship will survive until rescue. This is just a message."
The Gul's eyes narrow, but inside he is relieved that he may yet survive his encounter with the demon Ka'Sharren. "Then speak."
Images of fire and death sit in Nash's mind as she keeps herself carefully controlled. "You attempted treachery today. But from now until the end of time, you, and Cardassia, will remember the name Enterprise."
A/N said:
In my sidecanon the timeloops work like this:
1: At some point in the Future Nash is exposed to Chroniton Radiation.
2: During the Enterprise-B's encounter with the Nexus she was also flooded with Chronitons and other exotic particles as yet unknown to Federation science.
3: These Particles especially took hold in the exotic materials that make up the Warp Core containment system.
4: The Enterprise traveled through that Subspace Incline, which "Primed" the Chronitons and other particles
5: When Enterprise went up the first time the destruction caused a Temporal Wave that reacted with Nash's particles.
6: After that if Nash died or the Warp core went up it released the Chronitons to cause odd effects, essentially "resetting" Nash to when Enterprise passed through the Subspace Incline
