Embedded Files
Location: Qo'Nos, Federation Embassy, [shortly after the defeat of the Honor Blade]
=/\= Attention. The Embassy lockdown has been lifted. Threat level is down to yellow alert. The Ambassador dis-advises anyone traveling outside the Embassy until threat level has dissipated to green alert. Thank you. =/\=
The announcement was simple and clear. You can go outside, but the Klingons are still pissed off.
Bendano didn't care. He'd just received word that D'Vek, that Andorian from Siridon, had returned to the planet and he was supposed to meet him at the corporation's headquarters.
The past few hours had been somewhat disconcerting. Quite suddenly, a large shadow had appeared over the capital city. Apparently the rumors of a civil war had been true. The shadow had supposedly been cast by a huge capital ship, the IKV Honor Blade, which was planning to blow up the Klingon Council or something like that. Bendano had made it back to the embassy just in time before the lockdown, and had waited out the whole thing within its safe walls.
Embassy personnel was very friendly to its inhabitants during this 'time of need', and
Bendano had made lavish use of the replicators and holodecks to distract his attention from the danger at hand. Nobody really seemed to mind.
Now, however, he was going to have to face at least some. His transport was held up numerous times in the city, for checkpoint controls as well as waiting for dissidents shooting at everything to be shot down themselves. Bendano nervously tapped his fingers on the armrest as the Klingon at the current checkpoint looked over his identification yet again. He decided to keep quiet lest the Klingon get angry, but if this had been a human he would have already bombarded the last three officials with insults that could have shocked a Tellarite, to give an indication of how fed up he was with all the delays.
Finally, the transport arrived at the building. Bendano paid the driver, got out, and, for fear of seeming just a bit too eager, calmly walked inside.
---------
Location Korav's Office, (or what settles for his office):
D'Vek sat behind the desk, toying with an odd little dagger he had found on the desk as he had arrived in the office. He leaned back and considered his situation. These people seemed to have the necessary skills needed. They survived the attack of a massive Klingon ship, that should account for something, after all.
"So Mr. Koroshov, Do you think they'll do for our little mission?" he asked his newly hired associate.
"Kirshov, sir. And, well, as I understand, he'll be hard-pressed to dare to refuse."
"I hope so, you'll be with them aboard this ship."
The door to the office opened before Koroshov could respond.
Korav stepped in to see a richly dressed Andorian as well as a Slavic-looking Human. What really got Korav riled up was the fact that the Andorian's blue ass was seated at his desk (more of a cargo container that had been welded into a desk-looking object, but desk nonetheless).
"Can I help you?" Korav said.
"Ahh, Captain Korev, Pleased to meet you. I seem to have a task that needs to be done, and they say you are the boys to do it." His expression turned cold. "You had better be, I just expended a massive favor to acquire your services.
"It's Korav." The Captain corrected him. "And yeah, seeing as you pulled our tails outta Rura Penthe, we're up for the job."
"Indeed" D'Vek purred as he leaned back. "I have a contact on a planet in the Delta Quadrant on a Planet called Cretanus who has escaped with some friends from Starfleet expiriments. They've captured the planet, the Ship they used to get there and a station there called the Eagle's Nest. Your mission is to go there and assist them in driving off the Starfleet ship that they have sent to recapture them. I believe the name is.... Koroshov, help me here... Oh never mind, it's the Discovery."
"Holy dog crap, the Discovery......" Korav remarked. "Well, we can do it, but we're gonna need a few things."
Bendano swallowed. He wasn't necessarily a fan of the Federation, but, well, the Discovery was a famous ship. And not particularly small either. Especially compared to this floating trash can. The man was brave.
D'Vek nodded, A merc made what profits a merc could out of a situations. "Of course."
"First, we're gonna need some fuel. Second, we got banged up during the battle, we're gonna need repairs. Third, we need a cloaking device if we're gonna be sneaking past any Fed ships. You're a big bad weapons corporation working with the Klingons, so that little wish list should be no problem, right?"
Braveness seemed to be devolving into audacity here, though. Yes, audacious was the best term for this man. This should be fun.
"Is that all?" D'Vek Chuckled at such a small list. Looking about he could pay for the repairs out of the change in his couch. "Fuel and Repairs are yours, the Cloaking Device, however, is a different matter. I have two availible, I'll allow you the use of one of them while your under my employ, but once I am done of your services, the Cloaking Device is mine again. Agreed?"
"Agreed." Korav nodded. Though he'd hate to lose such a device....
"Also, this is Mr. Koroshov, A newly hired associate of Siridon Arms. He'll be joining you, to look after my investment, as it were."
"That's fine." Korav nodded. "But I've got a question for you: an offer if you will."
"If we accomplish the mission to your satisfaction,” the captain continued, “to include bringing your people home, you take us on as independent contractors." Korav said running a finger across his desk. "That includes pay for services, discounted repair contracts, access to all your gear, and....we keep the cloaking device."
<< D'Vek >>
"I'm offering you one of the finest crews in the quadrant, Mr. Kartz. A veteran crew willing to work for the starters' rate." Korav said, pointing a thumb out the door. "We're the ones who put that bigass hole in the Honor Blade. We were there during the battle of Starbase Phoenix. We singlehandedly brought down a crime syndicate on Mendas III. My crew is composed of veteran mercs, pilots, and tech specialists, AND we have intimate knowledge of the Delta Quadrant. I'm sure your competitors would love to have us once they get wind of what happened with the Honor Blade today."
*****************************
BRIEF CIVIL WAR DEVASTATES KLINGON CAPITOL
Jack Somers
Federation News Net
Breaking news from Qo'Nos: Over the course of 16 hours, the once-vibrant Capitol City of CamChee is turned into a violent battleground between insurgents and Klingon Government troops.
Some time late in the evening, when most of the Klingon Council had been off-planet for observance of a Klingon religious holiday, insurgents belonging to the Eternal Sons of Kahless and the KLF (Klingon Liberation Front) infiltrated the capitol city with heavy weapons and tanks, attacking the city from within, under the guise of a feud with house Dk'tahg. The resulting chaos sparked countless firefights as the attack was used as an excuse by the other Klingon Houses to settle old House feuds. The fighting lasted for several hours, causing countless billions of credits in damage, and killing hundreds of Klingon civilians. In addition to the fighting, an unexplained communications blackout (presumably an insurgent comm jamming device) made communications impossible for all but the Klingon military.
The insurgents even went so far as to attack the Chancellor's compound, forcing the Chancellor to retreat into his underground bunker.
In the skies above CamChee, insurgent air support destroyed Government orbital defenses and bombed Government ground bases. All contact was lost with the Homeworld fleet, and there are even uncomfirmed reports of a Klingon mothership appearing in orbit, providing air support to the insurgents.
Just when all hope seemed lost for the Capitol, the Khitomer Fleet, commanded by General Mekh'Tar arrived in the system. Sketchy reports claim that the Khitomer Fleet destroyed the mothership before sending down waves of ground troops to pacify the city.
As of 0240 this morning, General Mekh'Tar declared martial law upon the Capitol, imposing an absolute curfew on all citizens of the Homeworld while the security situation on the ground is resolved. The General has also taken Chancellor M'Relkan into custody 'for his own protection', and has suspended all civic functions pending an investigation of the insurgent threat.
Now that the shooting has ended, the entire galaxy watches as the Klingon military keeps the Capitol clamped under an iron curtain of ships and soldiers. General Mekh'Tar has always been a vocal opponent of Chancellor M'Relkan's policies, and sources say that he may very well take this opportunity to declare himself Chancellor or even Regent under the Kahless Clone. Will the General lift his curfew and restore the Government? Or will he take power and plunge the Klingon Empire even deeper into conflict?
*****************************
INTERLUDE:
Location: Stolen Runabout, en Route to Alpha Quadrant
Characters: MacArthur Lee (Lee Su Cheng), Tibero Lee (Lee Chen Ai)
=/\= Starfleet fighter craft, state your purpose or break course. This is Major Lang of the DFA Defence Forces. Repeat, identify yourself. =/\=
Lee used his old pseudonym from the Phoenix liberation, hoping that the pilot would wise up and leave. Lee wasn't much of a pilot, but he knew a thing or two about flying, and would use it to his advantage to take on the faster, but much weaker opponent.
After a pause, Lee radioed again.
=/\= Starfleet craft, this is your last warning. If you do not reply, I will assume your intentions are hostile and- =/\=
He was cut off by a familiar voice, speaking Chinese, over the radio. =/\= Have you been away so long that you don't even recognize your own brother's flying? =/\=
=/\= Chen? Chen-di!!! How'd you know....? =/\= Mac was shocked. He hadn't expected to hear his brother's voice ever again.
=/\= You didn't think you were the only Lee on Phoenix, were you? =/\= Chen laughed over the comm. =/\= Oh I'm sorry, you're going by 'Lang' now. Where'd you get that dog crap? =/\=
=/\= Had to say something, little brother. I'm dead, remember? =/\= Lee paused, worry crossing his face. =/\= Wait- you're not here because of- =/\=
=/\= Father doesn't know. =/\= Chen replied, =/\= He wasn't on the station when you gave your little ultimatum to our lizard friends. I never told him either. I haven't told anybody..... How about we talk more when I'm aboard your nice, roomy runabout? Five hours in a cockpit plays hell on your ass cheeks. =/\=
=/\= Fag =/\= Lee replied, laughing. =/\= Shields lowered. Come on over! =/\=
----later-----
Chen, or Tibero, whichever language you choose to address him in, materialized aboard the runabout still in his full flight suit. He'd barely removed his mask when he was swept up in a bear hug from his older brother.
"You call me a fag. I feel that boner, you cocksucker!" Chen gasped as he tried to breathe.
"Never thought I'd see any of you guys again!" Mac laughed, releasing him. "And....holy crap, COMMANDER Tibero Lee!!" Lee said as his eyes fell on the pips on his brother's collar.
"Where's my salute, bitch?" Chen folded his arms.
Mac replied with middle finger up his nose. They both chuckled at the lame gesture. Chen took a seat in a nearby chair, helping himself to some replicated drinks and snacks. "It's a bullshit promotion, really." Chen said between mouthfulls of cheez-its and gulps of soda. "Had to put someone in charge of the USS Watchguard."
Pulling up a seat as well, Mac stole a handfull of cheez-its from his brother's plate, popping them all into his mouth. "They gave you your own SHIP?" He said in disbelief. "They're just promoting anyone aren't they?"
"Father had a hand in that one." Chen shrugged. "But a big part of it is the fact that we're stretched thin in the DQ. Reinforcements have been slow in coming, and we're expanding our operations faster than we can man them. The Watchguard, for instance, she's a Dominion War era Defiant Class Starship. They took her off the museum display, towed her through the wormhole, and put her back into service. She's been tasked with guarding Phoenix. We won't let those spoonheads pull another fast one like before."
Mac let out a low whistle. "Man.... a museum wreck for your first command..... must be rough."
"Isn't too bad..." Chen kicked his feet up on a nearby console. "They totally gutted her before they mothballed her. It was easy for the ship techs to install the latest and greatest of everything..... Breaks down half the time, but when the equipment works, she'll go toe-to-toe with anyone twice her size."
"So how did you find out about me?" Mac said, looking to his brother apprehensively.
"I was a part of the first wave of security and marine personnel to beam aboard the station." Chen said. "General Bearkiller grabbed everything he could find to throw at Phoenix. Typical marine tactics." Chen shot Mac with a dirty look. "The Leviathan Battlegroup was called up, and we joined the assault on Phoenix. I heard your voice right when we were mopping up the promenade. I couldn't believe it at first. Thought I was dead." He chuckled.
"So you've been waiting for me ever since..." Mac said accusingly.
"I was reassigned to Phoenix after that battle. Slipped in a facial recognition subroutine into the station's sensors." Chen replied. "I programmed it to look for your face. Did a good job finding you, beard and all...." Chen said, pointing at his own shaven face.
"Thought it would be cool, since I'm on leave and all...." Mac said, scratching the scraggly growth on his face.
"So you're with the DFA?" Chen asked, curious. "Is that what you've been doing this whole time? Parading around with the rebels?"
"They aren't rebels...." Lee said, shaking his head. "We're 'legit' now. Even gave away the Cromwell for that...."
"Saw her come through..." Chen nodded. "I think we should charge for rent AND damages. She's been banged up worse than a three dollar woman...."
"Ha! You were about to make a momma joke! Dumbass!" Mac laughed.
Chen chuckled, but mostly ignored the comment. "Glad that happened. Talk was of the DFA and the Federation going to war."
"Yeah...." Mac said, slumping into his chair. "In all honesty, we would've whooped your ass."
"Dream on." Chen joked. "But it is good we've got a power like the DFA in this quadrant... Someone we know how to deal with. Not like some of these other races we're encountering in the DQ...."
"I've seen a few of them...." Mac replied, not being able to think of anything else to say.
There was silence for a moment as the two brothers ran out of words, and enjoyed their food in silence.
"So...." He cradled the cup of soft drink in his hand. "So what made you do it?"
Mac's smile slowly died on his face, replaced by a thin line that seemed to droop more as he pursed his lips. "Do what?" He asked numbly.
"You know what." Chen said, "Iwo Jima. Alex."
"Couldn't do it anymore...." Mac shook his head. "The kidnappings, the murders...."
"The arrests, the executions you mean." Chen corrected him.
"By our own standards, we were committing acts of terrorism!" Mac shot back.
"So WHAT?!" Chen leaned forward. "Those BASTARDS are blowing us up left and right! Are we gonna tie our hands and fight them with words and noble intentions?? I'd rather get my hands dirty and WIN!!"
"Then what right do we have to execute the next True Way criminal we capture?!!" Mac said, getting up and walking around the cabin. "You're talking just like father!! DAMMIT!"
"What did you do that was so bad???" Chen said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Spend two months working with the black ops boys and you come back a NUTCASE! Ever since you came back from that, you wouldn't even play mahjong with us anymore!! We had to teach brother Lao's yeoman to play, and she sucks at it!! Lao hasn't been that much better either! Always drooling at her tits, not paying attention....."
"I've held a man at gunpoint while his family was kidnapped...." Mac began. "I've terrorized entire neighborhoods, murdered dozens of people, I've set a bomb in a building that killed HUNDREDS of innocent people!! I've killed so many people in those two months.... and the months since then....." Mac's hands curled into fists. Chen sat a little closer to the edge of his seat, knowing his brother's violent temper.
"Relax, Su-guh, relax...." Chen said, trying to reassure him. "Look, we've all done things we aren't proud of.... Father's asked me to do a few shady things before. Nothing quite as spectacular as that Mayday bomb..."
"Spectacular wouldn't be the word I'd choose to describe it...." Mac shook his head. "I didn't want to do any of that anymore.... so I left."
"You killed three men. You killed Alex." Chen said, looking Mac right in the eye. "So instead of spilling some strangers' blood, you spill your friends'."
"It was a mistake-"
"Damn right it was!" It was Chen's turn to get angry. "You've always been the best in the family, always been the one father was praising, 'Su will make Captain in no time! Su will command his own fleet some day!' do you remember that??!!" Chen placed his cup on the table and cupped his hands in his lap. "You've always been there to set the example, Su-guh. You've always stood tall and proud as honor after honor was heaped on you, from the DAY you started school. And then you get out in the field and.... and something happened......"
"I saw what I was doing, Chen." Mac said, folding his arms and leaning against a wall. Tears began forming on the edges of his eyes. "It's not worth it, Chen. The DQ's a rough place and all, but there has to be a better solution.... I've seen that with the DFA as well, it's more of the same...." Mac looked upward in desperation. "I'm tired of the blood, Chen. I want to wash my hands of it before I lose myself entirely." He looked down at his hands. "It's....it's all become so easy, Chen. I- I slip into this killer mode, I- I WANT to kill people, LIKE it! I don't want to do that..... I can't do that anymore."
"I think the sacrifices are worth it." Chen said defiantly, "I'll live with what I've done."
"Now if only I could...." Mac glanced at the burnt-out phaser he'd chucked across the room earlier.
Chen glanced at the phaser, wondering what was going through his brother's mind.
"Su, your family will always be there for you.... I don't know what father thinks, but I'm sure everyone else will forgive you....." Chen put a hand on Mac's shoulder. "You just have to forgive yourself first...."
Mac stood for the longest time, just thinking, thinking about the paths that led him to this point, thinking about all the mistakes he'd made up to that point. The reassuring touch of his brother's hand steadied him somewhat. Gave him the clarity of mind to turn around and look into his past, removing the haze of rage and doubt that had blanketed his actions until now. He knew what he had to do....
"I can't go back, Chen." Mac turned to face his little brother. "What's done is done, and there is no forgiveness for me back there."
"I'm.....sorry to hear that, brother." Chen sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. "So now what?"
"Now, I go to do what I should've done a long time ago...." Diana's face briefly flashed before his eyes. She was laying on a bio-bed somewhere out there, and he needed to be with her. If he was to die, it would only be after he'd spoken with her again. "There's- there's a woman..... She needs me. I have to get to her."
Chen nodded knowingly, happy at least that his brother had found somebody. Whatever was plaguing his brother's soul, it was her problem now. "Then I guess it's time for me to go, brother." He got up and walked back to the transporter pad. "Care to beam me out?"
Mac followed, weary of all that had just happened in the last 24 hours. He looked at his brother once more as he entered the coordinates for the fighter craft.
Chen stopped him before he could energize. "Su.....just....one more thing. Mother misses you."
The mention of his mother made Mac's throat clench. He fought back the swell of tears that threatened to blind him. "I miss her too, Chen...." He sobbed. "But you mustn't tell her. Not anyone." He looked up to see tears on Chen's face too.
"I know, Su. I know. I'm sorry it has to be this way....." Chen said, not daring to meet Mac's gaze.
"Goodbye Chen-di." Mac said after a pause.
"Goodbye Su-guh."
Lee Chen Ai disappeared in a brilliant flash of charged particles. Outside, the Starfleet fighter craft powered up it's engines and flew off into the distance, setting a course for Starbase Phoenix.
MacArthur Lee was left alone once again, with only his demons to talk to.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Axel, Shuttle Bay
Roquel Atrell stood at the viewport just outside the Hydroponics Lab. She had recently taken to exploring the ship, with the exception of Deck 1. She hadn't been invited up there and didn't feel that she had any business near the bridge. Korav and the rest of the bridge crew had been busy since the ship had been 'conscripted' into the Siridon Arms fleet. What they had been doing, she didn't know. But, they had pretty much forgotten about her. Not altogether a bad thing.
Alton had spent some time with her a couple of times and shared some of what he knew. Phemeril had refused to give her any information unless she paid for it (typical Ferengi). And the other crewmembers with the exception of Daius had given her her own space. So, as she watched the watchdog Bird of Prey that was guarding the Axel, she mused about how frustrating that duty had to be for a Klingon crew.
Just then, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps down the corridor. She wasn't going to be alone anymore. She checked her reflection in the glass. A little rough, she thought. She had been spending the last 2 hours in her shuttle reviewing the damage to her ship. It had been a bit of a surprise just how much of the ships systems were compromised, even after she and Daius had put the sensor system back together. It could take awhile to get the micro-torpedo launchers and phasers back on line. And, the computer core looked like it still had missing bits and viruses. Roquel had just plain been lucky that it had ever made it off of Qo'Nos. And, even more miraculously, the Axel boarding party had made it back from their mission. Truly, she had been a fool to fly within range of the Honor Blade to get them.
Roquel's visitor rounded the corner. "Hello." She said. "Nice view." She smirked as she indicated the Bird of Prey. "Shall we invite them over for coffee and doughnuts?" Mockingly, she held up the cup she'd been drinking from.
"I don't think they'd be up for a 'continental breakfast'" D'eVo commented. "Now, a fresh cup of blood, maybe a small, living rodent to dip it in …" He smiled broadly, emphasizing his clumsy attempt at a joke. "I for one have had just about enough of 'my people' for a while. I doubt this is the best time for a social visit anyways …"
"Yeah, I agree completely." Roquel laughed. "I suppose they are just there to make sure we fulfill the bargain that Korav made with S.A.I."
"I'm sure it was quite the … 'bargain' …" D'eVo trailed off, genuinely concerned about the Captain's new business partners (but willing to use the moment to try to sow some doubt amongst the crew). "I don't know if the Empire is going to be very trusting these days, especially to an alien arms dealer."
"Do you suppose they'd send the whole fleet after us if we just skipped out?"
"They're busy, but not THAT busy! No, at this point I think the average Klingon on the street would advocate hunting down the last descendants of anyone who so much as looks sideways at a member of the warrior class."
Roquel looked awestruck. "Well, I guess that would keep us on a short leash. With S.A.I. being tight with the Klingon government, General Mehk'Tar in particular, there's not much choice about it then, is there?"
"Well, there's always a choice, and the galaxy's a big place, but …" he sighed, reluctant to jeopardize his life or mission, but equally unwilling to expose the crew of the Axel – his friends, for better or worse – to the tender mercies of a Klingon bounty. "Yeah, I guess anything's possible, but it'd take one HELL of a good plan." He chose his words carefully, opting to suggest – as subtly as possible – what may soon become a life-or-death necessity.
"You'll let me know if someone cooks up that plan, won't you?" Roquel wanted to be sure that she wasn't left out of any switches in allegiance the Axel may make. And, be aware if her neck was on the line, again, just for being aboard this ship.
“Of course …” D’eVo replied, dryly. Roquel’s unexpected, semi-enthusiastic response to his dropped hints tempted him to push the issue further, but he decided it was best to let the matter drop (“for now” he thought). “Although, I don’t think our Captain would pass up on opportunity to score this much latinum for a single job … by the way, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything to Korav about our little chat. I was just – how do the Humans say it? – oh yeah, I was just ‘thinking out loud.’” He then simultaneously squeezed and patted her shoulder, an overly familiar and friendly gesture that seemed to suggest just the barest whisper of an implied physical threat (despite his overall cheery and friendly nature). “I need to head down to the Engine room and talk to Daius about something. You let me know if you need anything, ok?!” He patted her shoulder, softly, and then turned to head down the corridor.
"Thanks for that." She said, sipping from her cup. "It's good to have another friend aboard. I hope you feel you can count on me, too. We've been through alot already, between escaping from Qo'Nos and the Honor Blade business."
“Sure thing … and I do mean ANYTHING.” He finished with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, followed by another broad, boyish grin. “And let’s keep THAT between you and me, also!!!”
"I've got to get going. Alton came by a few minutes ago and told me that Korav wants me to do a once-over of both the Bee and Kobayashi Maru to determine what we need from S.A.I in that department. He has to do a requisition for the armory. I can only imagine what might be on his wishlist! But, if you're going to wish, I guess, now, is the time! I'm going to put in for some micro quantum torpedoes! Maybe.....well, we'll see." As an afterthough she added, "You seem to like your big guns, you might want to suggest a few things to Alton yourself." (winks) "Later." She said, and walked away.
“Take it easy, Roq” D’eVo replied, watching the woman walking away. He lingered in front of the viewport for a few seconds, analyzing his options. “I need to get the hell out of here … and take Daius with me, while I’m at it - going against a Discovery class starship, even with ‘new microtorpedo tubes’ is suicide. And I doubt I’ll be able to explain this away to S.I. [[Starfleet Intelligence – Ken]] either; ‘Oh yeah, I was asleep when they did it, honest!’” Realizing that he needed to get a move on, D’eVo turned and headed down the corridor. “I wonder if G’warr will sell me a system-hopper, under the table …” he thought, already prepping himself for the next phase of his dangerous mission.
-----later------
The Kobayashi Maru was battered, but impressive. A larger cousin to her type 10, she knew well enough what kind of tech that it had in it; or at least she thought she did. It could've been seriously overhauled in the days since its decommissioning by Starfleet. Korav had passed instructions down the line for her to do an inspection of it's stores, weapons, and fuel. Better, not to leave anything to chance, she supposed. Apparently, the ship was infrequently used. She didn't know why, unless it was just to keep it from getting unnecessarily mileaged.
After boarding, Roquel did a visual check. The thing seemed in good physical shape, internally. In the aft cabin, the center table had been dismantled and propped against one wall, and the floor and berthing compartments were filled with crates. There was ample cargo room outside the ship, so why was so much stored in here? Well, it was probably left over issues from another mission. First, priority, CLEAN-UP!
Some time later, a sweating and dirty shuttle pilot, walked back into the cleared aft cabin and admired her handiwork. "Bet the guys on this ship left this for the women to take care of." She said. "Typical males!"
She had the computer run a full diagnostic. Everything checked out. A computer and physical check of weapons, indicated a light load on photon torpedoes; a problem that the Bee shared as well. Roquel entered the data on her padd. Once, she was done here, she would get a requisition off to Mr. Kirshov. He would then forward it on to Siridon Arms and get the stuff shipped to them. At least, now that they were working for (or with) S.A.I., the crew of the Axel had access to some easy shopping.
Looking around at the spacious runabout, Roquel promised herself to get some flight time in it soon. She swiped her hand across the control panel, bringing it away covered in dust. What a shame, she thought, wiping the dust off on her coveralls. Were uniforms part of the S.A.I. package? She doubted it. Whatever, lay ahead the Risian woman had a feeling that whether he knew it or not, Captain Korav, had just given them a step up compared to other privateering vessels in the quadrant. S.A.I. had connections.
Ironically, she thought, it had been a job offer from this same company that had gotten her into the mess on Qo'Nos. Hopefully, this time would be better.
While she was inspecting the exterior of the ship, a vole darted across the shuttlebay floor between some of the cargo containers she'd just moved. Startled, Roquel pulled her phase pistol out of her belt holster. "Damn voles. I hate those things." Chastising her self for being too jumpy, she returned the weapon. "Traps, I need to set some traps. I"ll request some of those, too." She said shaking her head affirmatively.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Bridge to Mess Hall, a day or so after the Honor Blade battle
Korav strode out of the office, clutching several PADDs in his hand. He nodded towards Selvine in the command chair.
"Got the ... pap'wirk." Korav said, holding up the PADD's. "We sh... should have 'nuff weapons .... I asked for... upgrade to warp core too. So's we kin ... handle the the - the cloaking device." He gave a loud belch.
Selvine looked up from her chair as he entered the room and, had she been less composed, her jaw would have dropped. "You. Are. Drunk," she stated in disbelief. What was he doing on the bridge in this state?
"I'm - I'm fine!" Korav said insistently, handing the PADD's to Selvine. "I'm on ... on my way to getting drunk ... started last night, I'm 'bout halfway there."
"Korav, get off the bridge," she snapped, ignoring his ridiculous assertion. Her temper was dangerously frayed after the completion of their would-be suicide mission, and if Korav made her life any harder....
Ignoring her, he walked over to the main comm. panel and paged the entire crew of the Axel.
--------
Bendano didn't have much stuff to put in his new quarters. This was not a particularly big problem, because there was little room to put stuff. He'd demanded some normal workspace, which was there. Bendano didn't plan on spending much time wandering the corridors. Too few corridors to walk through and too much work to be done elsewhere or nothing to be done at all. The ship didn't have any leisure facilities other than a small gym on the same deck, which Bendano had no intention of spending any time in.
Nevertheless, his quarters were of sufficient size to house him. Besides the desk and of course a bed, there was a small replicator and washing corner, as well as some bulkhead storage compartments that would do as wardrobes. Bendano severely hoped that there were some people on this ship who enjoyed board games, otherwise he was in for a long, boring journey.
Suddenly, a loud voice sounded over the intercom.
--------
=/\= HEEEY!! Is Korav. The Captain. Meeting in the mess hall in ah ... five minutes. No ... wait .... ten minutes. Important, so...be there. =/\=
Bendano sighed. Scratch long boring journey. Long bumpy journey laced with stupid people was more like it.
Deciding with forethought to look presentable for this meeting, Bendano quickly tossed on a fresh suit, and marched out the door.
--------
Korav turned for a second before suddenly remembering something and hitting the comm. panel again.
=/\= That- that is all. =/\=
"So help me God, Korav!" his XO snarled, starting towards him. Now it was going to be HER problem to restore some semblance of professionalism to the crew.
"Relax Sel ... we m-made it!" Korav laughed, taking a sip from a flask on his hip.
Letting out a wordless keen of frustration, Selvine spun on her heel, headed reluctantly to the mess hall.
"Oh god," muttered Selvine under her breath. He was actually going to try a briefing in his state?
Roquel strode in still wearing her work coveralls, since she'd been inspecting the shuttlecraft and the runabout. She flashed her best winning smile to the room. Her eyes stopped on Korav and her jaw practically hit the floor. He had sounded bad over the intercom. But in person, it was worse. He was half sh*tfaced. Well, at least he was sober during the mission, she thought. This must be unwind time. Some others in the crew appeared unsurprised. She slid neatly into one of the mess hall chairs and planted her elbows on the table with fingers interlaced and supporting her head.
D’eVo sulked into the Axel’s Mess Hall, keeping his head down and his ears open. The rumors he’d heard about their mission were unsettling, to say the least. After grabbing a refreshing beverage from the mess’ replicator, he briskly took a seat in the back, and began intently looking over a PADD sitting on the table in front of him.
After having swung by Eddie's domain to grab a hypospray filled with chemicals that would sober Korav up, Selvine stalked moodily into the mess hall and dropped into her seat at Korav's right. She wouldn't use it unless he did something truly hazardous - he would be pissed beyond belief if she did - but she felt better having it in her pocket. Nonetheless, she treated him to her finest glare.
Bendano calmly walked into the mess hall, looking over a PADD. He momentarily looked up to find a seat, and quickly picked one at the left end of the U-shaped table. He took a quick glance around the table to take in the faces, then went back to his padd.
Selvani walked through the door and took a seat not paying any real attention to whom he sat next to. He rubbed his temples trying to rid himself of a particularly stubborn headache (due to a particularly stubborn ancestor). He smiled at the Captain and XO realizing they were the only crew members he actually knew.
Korav sat at a chair on the peripherals of the table. He made sure everyone had arrived before getting up. It amazed him how much their tiny crew had grown since they had escaped Mendas together. There might even be a chance that they'd have to start converting cargo space into crew quarters if this kept up.
He walked to the middle of the room and cleared his throat loudly before beginning to speak.
"Alright...guys. Firs' off... I wanna say congrats for not dying.... always a good thing." Korav said, smiling. "Now, let's see how long we can keep that up. Next mission's a bit.....uh....on the uh..... dangerous side."
The Risian woman considered saying....and that's different from the last one, how?! But, figured that being the newbie in the bunch, it was a bit upstartish. Not the best way to say hello, to those of the crew she didn't know.
D’eVo (Calvin) perked up at the mention of their “dangerous mission.” He looked around the room, once, to gauge the rest of the crew’s reaction, and then forced his gaze back to the PADD in front of him (all the while aimlessly cycling through one page of random data after the next). “This DOESN’T sound good … not good at all! Godammit, Korav …” he thought, keeping his head down. As he sat – his long Klingon hair covering his face, hopefully obscuring any expression that might betray his disagreement with the Captain – he maintained a safe, respectful, yet very vocal, silence about what was being discussed … at the same time, plotting his own ‘Plan B’ …
Bendano didn't look up from his PADD as Korav talked. He was busy checking over the cargo lists and making sure the ridiculous requests that this man had made would be granted. He had half a mind of declining them just because of his behaviour, but D'Vek had been very clear on the limits imposed on what they were allowed to get - anything that wouldn't nullify the projected profits of the investment. And the projection was high.
Selvani looked up interested all the sudden with the mention of a dangerous mission. He was aching to try out a few new maneuvers that the last mission was just not right to try.
Kim sat quietly at a table near the back. She was the least skilled of any of the crew, and was very self-conscious about it. She was lucky to have a home, but that privilege could (and would) be taken away, if she didn’t find a way to earn her keep. When she first arrived, there was no doctor. Since then, the captain had acquired an EMH unit. Only the fact that it was defective allowed her to stay on board. She’d become quite fond of the hologram. He was teaching her to be a top notch medic, and maybe one day, she’d have enough money to go to medical school. Kim didn’t care how dangerous the mission was--she didn’t have a life outside of this ship, and the captain (for all his quirks) was just crazy enough to pull them through it. As long as no new medical personnel showed up, Kim felt safe.
Dauis took a look at Calvin and saw he was just as pissed as she. He was good at hiding it but she knew him too well.
She turned her focus back to Korav and what was being said. Drunk as he was she couldn't blam him she'd love one right now.
"Our job's to take a group of....of.... Siridon Mercs into the DQ.... We're gonna sneak em past a Fed blockade, and onto a space station called the 'Eagles' Nest'." Korav cleared his throat again before continuing. "We've got....got enough room sssoo..... nobody's movin or nothing. Intel suggests there's a bio-weapons experiment going on with the co-colonists..... so nobody leaves the ship."
"That's just nuts!" Roquel blurted as she stood up, immediately regretting the outburst. "I mean, no disrespect to any of you, but how are we possibly going to get past a Federation blockade in this!" She raised her hands up, and spun around once inviting all to take in the 'glory' of the Axel. Again, she realized, she was dissing the ship. Way to go girl, DUH!
“She’s right!” Calvin (D’eVo) exclaimed, darting upright (and almost spilling his drink in the process). Exploiting this opportunity, he pressed on: “This is a fine little spaceship, but, there’s no way we’re going to pull this off in a glorified cargo freighter. I would recommend we do a thorough upgrade of our weapons and defensive systems, and get some decent sensor-jamming equipment on this tug – maybe even a cloaking system. Actually, I would recommend using a different ship entirely. Preferrably a Discovery class capitol ship!”
Calvin flopped back down in his chair – sitting as ‘angrily’ as possible – and yanked the PADD off the table. He then proceeded to glare at the device’s screen, avoiding any further eye contact with any of the crew, and strangely silent after his emotional outburst.
Bio Weapons Experiments? The romulian was suddenly all ears. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hated them with a passion having seen first hand what they could do.
Kim looked over at Mandy to see her reaction, but the engineer seemed impassive. That in itself was unusual because the only time Mandy didn’t seem happy or worried was when she was asleep. Kim smiled, but Mandy didn’t see her. Mandy had been kind to her when she was a slave, and it was Mandy who comforted her after she killed her Ferengi handler in self-defense. Mandy was the best friend Kim had ever known. They’d talk about this later. They talked about everything.
Hating herself for doing it - for she was in total disagreement with the crew - Selvine held up a hand for silence, which fell immediately. She couldn't believe Korav was telling them this when he was totally trashed, almost as much as she couldn't believe that he hadn't consulted her, his XO, before deciding. Nonetheless, she didn't need a riot, so she yielded the floor to him once more.
"Yer new...." Korav said with a smug smile, pointing his finger at Roquell. "So I won't spill yer guts fer' sayin that. Axel's been through crap waaaaay worse 'n a lil blockade. Damned Fedss..... 'top o' that, our pals at Siridon are gonna give 's an engine upgrade.....and......a cloaking device. Any more whinin? Gripes? Complaints?"
“Not a complaint so much as a request” piped Selvani at the sound of an engine upgrade. “Can I get the info on the engines upgrade so I can get a feel for the new physics of close quarters maneuvering?” it was a good excuse, but he was just happy to have a new toy so soon.
"Right? Now, everyone, I'd like you to congratulate.... Mandy! For her acceptance into the Sakel Institute of Education for the Gifted! We're droppin’ her off here in a few hours so sh-she.....ah.....can take a shuttle to Risa, then to her school. Congrats, Mandy!!!" Korav raised his flask towards Karina.
<< Mandel >>
Taking a long, slow sip of his iced green tea, Calvin felt himself start to relax; his aggressive posture softening somewhat with the good news that, at the very least, Mandy would be out of harm’s way. “And besides” he reasoned (his privateer instincts competing with his sense of duty to Starfleet Intel) “the really scary thing is … this might actually WORK.”
"Congrats, Mandy!" offered Selvine, more to set an example and switch the topic from their crazy mission than anything else. She was happy for the girl, of course - but it really wasn't her priority at the moment.
“’grats” added Selvani across the table to her with a smile that tried not to communicate that he had no clue who she really was.
Thedauis smiled clapping happily for Mandel. The girl finally got a break and she hoped she's have a good life.
"Tha' means...." Korav took a big gulp of his flask. "Tha' means Thedaius.... you're the new CEO..... congrats to you too."
She almost fell out of her chair . "ME?!" Ah sh!t, she thought. Great a promotion just as I was planning other things. She stood up after looking at Calvian. "Thanks, Sir"
Calvin’s head spun around, his gaze locking on to Thedaius, then to Korav, and then back to Daius. Nobody had bothered informing him of this little development – his plan was flushed down the jettison hatch. There was no way of avoiding the ‘interesting career opportunities’ that waited for them in the DQ.
“Oh well” Cal surrendered: “This wouldn’t be the first time I got stuck between different ‘friends.’” He began to re-analyze the situation; “Now, didn’t Roquel say something about getting some guns from the S.A.I. crew? I cleared out almost my entire inventory during that last sh*t-storm. There’s no way I’m going to rely on whatever old, dusty plasma pump Alton’s gonna ‘loan’ me - and besides, I still might need to shoot a one-man path out of this mess!” Before resigning himself to the questionable operation at-hand, he realized; “I need to talk to some people when this is all over …”
<< Mandel >>
Roquel walked up to Thedaius and patted her on the shoulder. "I knew you'd be chief engineer, somewhere, eventually. Good luck, Dai."
"Not really," She muttered as she looked at Calvin.
Kim felt stunned. Mandy had never mentioned going to school. Kim managed a weak smile, murmured a weak, “Congratulations,” but the moment seemed surreal. Her eyes stung, but she wouldn’t allow herself to cry. Real friends aren’t selfish, or jealous, or scared. She could be happy for Mandy. It would work out. They’d still be friends. The next time she caught Mandy’s attention, the smile was genuine.
Hope I don't any "friends" calling me about this, Dauis thought or I'm up a creek with out a paddle.
Bendano cleared his throat, and without getting up or waiting for anyone started speaking.
"Your attention if you will. First of all I'd care to pardon my boldness, but considering that the current condition of your captain would probably mean his forgetting to introduce my person, I care to take the opportunity myself."
Bendano glanced around the circle. Some people appeared taken aback, but he pressed on nonetheless.
"My name is Bendano Kirshov, I am a Terran, and have been assigned to serve aboard your ship as a representative of sorts to the Siridon Arms corporation. My job will basically be to ensure that my employers give you everything you have a right to have and that you do everything you have agreed to do for my employers in return. I trust our co-operation shall be prosperous. Thank you."
Bendano turned back down to working on his PADD, not really bothering to take in any expressions or other responses.
"For you most likely" Dauis muttered staring at the PADD. She had to have a talk with Cal in private and soon!
Korav noted a small distortion in the corner of the room. It was a brief shimmer, almost undetectable even by his advanced vision. 'Well...' His thoughts meandered through a drunken haze, but his mind was still functional enough to recognize the outline. 'Looks like our friends are here'.
"Well....Misser Kirshov....." Korav pointed towards the shadow. "Looks like you brought friends."
Zoss stepped forward, seeming to materialize out of the wall. "Indeed he did. I'm sorry for the delay, Mr. Kirshov. I was caught up in some logistical issues. Another mess-up from Mr. Dalton's department."
Bendano momentarily rubbed his forehead. He would've kept his attention on his PADD and waved his hand if he hadn't noticed the fact that the Jem'Hadar was a fairly large specimen. If he'd still have had the guts, Bendano would have said something along the lines of 'Well, invisible cargo is bound to give logistical problems' or 'At least we know Mr. Dalton doesn't need an eye exam.' Instead, he settled for: "I shall relay your complaint."
The massive Jem'Hadar approached the Captain, noting the stench of alcohol about him. That didn't make the drunken man any less dangerous, though. He was obviously still sober enough to detect his presence, even with his active camouflage. "I am Zoss. Unit leader, 40th Spec ops unit." He offered his hand in a typical Human gesture.
"I'm Korav!" The Captain said (albeit a little too loudly). He took the Jem'Hadar's hand. "And....how the hell'd you get aboard?"
"I have my ways." Zoss smirked. "If everything is in order, I'd like to begin bringing my squad aboard. Mr. Kartz would like us to set off as soon as possible."
"Yeah....yeah...." Korav nodded. "Well...." He turned back to the crew. "If there aren't any other....ah....questions.....tha's it. Bye bye."
Kim was more curious than afraid of the Jem’Hadar. She had been told that they were killing machines, designed to wipe out ‘inferior’ races, but this one was different; she was sure of it. He certainly seemed capable of killing everyone in the room, but there was something in his manner, his tone of voice, his eyes, and the expressions that occasionally crossed his stoic face that convinced the girl that this was no ordinary Jem’Hadar warrior.
Not bothering to look up from his PADD, Bendano quickly got up and rushed out the room. Too much work to be done to socialize. Thinking better, he stopped just in front of the door, and turned back to the room.
"If someone with transporter and communications access, as well as the general ability to keep track of stock would care to head to the main cargo bay. I would ask mr. Woodward, but I suppose someone with a bit more... Hrm." He glared at Korav. "...Weight, would be better suited for the job. I shall meet you there in a few moments. Thank you."
He turned, almost on his heel, and rushed out.
Working for this company was ridiculously much work. Not so much hard, but just a lot to do.
Korav's list of requisitions had to be passed by the Siridon departments each responsible for supplying them, to project expected costs, which then had to be taken up into calculations adding to expected total cost of all goods, which would have to be relayed back to Siridon for approval by the bigwigs, only then to be added to the definitive list of goods-to-be-transported.
Thing was, that goods on the list were sorted alphabetically. Not by department, not by importance. This meant that every item would have to be checked before he could move on to the next, and if it later turned out that something very important and expensive would turn up as the next item, and it ranked the projected total cost over the maximum, he would have to go back in the list and calculate out flimsy luxury stuff that was taking up the needed financial room. He was almost finished, but still had to spend some time running the last details by the corporation before he could head out to the cargo bay. He would be glad if the ship was finally underway, though he would undoubtedly get bored soon enough.
Roquel saw this as her chance. Firstly, she was a bit unnerved by the Jem'hadar that had appeared in their midst. Second, she was intrigued by Bendano Kirshov, but as yet couldn't say why. So, she quickly got up and walked behind the others, excusing herself from the meeting.
"Mr. Kirshov." she called as she exited the mess hall.
"Hi. I know I don't exactly fit the description you just gave. I don't have transporter or outgoing communications access...yet. But, I'd like to volunteer to assist you, anyway. I CAN count." She watched for responses in him movement, mannerisms, eye contact, etc; Roquel was a bit lost aboard ship. She had spent her time, so far, reorganizing some cargo in the cargo bay. A vision emerged in her minds eye of herself as the mistress of Deck 5. If she could make herself important to Kirshov and Korav in keeping order of the lower deck, cargo and shuttles alike, she would find her nitch. She just knew it.
"I'm sure you'll do, madame. As I said, please meet me in the cargo bay. I need to run by my quarters first, and I shall meet you there afterwards." Bendano said quite simply. "Erm, what was your name?"
The young woman smiled a bit coyly. "Call me Roqi." She said leaning lazily against the wall. Almost immediately, she wondered why she'd said that. Roquel had shared the familiar nickname with only a few. Daius, of course, and maybe she'd mentioned it to De'Vo or Korav, but not an open invitation like this. What was it about this man. Was it his air of confident authority?
Bendano blinked and swallowed, retaining his flat composure. "Very well. I shall see you in a moment."
He turned, and headed down the corridor.
There was something about this girl. She was Risian, of course, which would account for a slightly more open personality than was usual, but... No. No, it was just the Risian thing. Nothing else.
--------Meanwhile----------
Kim watched Korav talking with the Jem'Hadar. The captain had a kind of sixth sense about people, and this warrior was obviously in charge of the soldiers that they would be transporting. She could excuse herself and return to Sickbay, or she could show some initiative. She wanted to be a doctor one day, so she did what she thought a doctor would do. She walked over to the Jem'Hadar, and introduced herself. "Welcome aboard the Axel Mr. Zoss. My name is Kim--I work in Sickbay. Do you, or your people, have any medical needs that we should prepare for?"
"My people are taken care of by the company." Zoss said dismissively. "Though I appreciate your asking."
"Actually, I was thinking of medication, allergies, a rare blood type, that sort of thing," Kim replied, "but now that you mention it; are you completely self-sufficient, or do you need us to keep some 'white' in the Infirmary supply cabinet?"
Zoss's eyes narrowed for a second. He was impassive, but his eyes said it all.
"No......Miss Kim......" He said slowly. "I prefer controlling my own supply. Thank you very much."
This Jem'Haddar was HUGE! Kim didn't feel very brave, but she had too much pride to show it. Her heartbeat might give her away, but she would act every bit the medical professional. The warrior hadn't said, or done, anything particularly threatening; he'd been very straight-forward and business-like, but the mention of ketracel had caused a change. However subtle, Kim was sensitive to others' feelings. "I can tell you're a private individual," Kim said. "I'm sorry, if I offended you. You and your people are our guests, and if anyone has need of medical care, you only have to ask."
"I will keep that in mind." Zoss replied. "And I though I commend your concern and professionalism, I do not think we will be in need of infirmary medical services during the few short days that we will be traveling together."
“I understand,” Kim said, and she bowed her head slightly preparing to turn and leave.
"Heeey.... be nice to Kim." Korav said, folding his arms. "She-she's trying to help."
"I apologize if I caused offence, Miss Kim." Zoss's tone didn't change, neither did his mannerism. "But if you'll excuse me, I need to arrange the transport of my squad aboard."
“Of course,” Kim acknowledged, and watched as the warrior returned to his duties. Turning to their own, obviously inebriated leader, she considered asking Korav, if he needed help. He would probably take offense, and besides, he’d fought on both sides of a civil war, kept everyone on board out of prison, and managed to re-fit the ship, all within the last 48 hours. So what if he was drunk; he’d earned a little R&R.
She leaned over and kissed Korav lightly on the cheek, like a child. “Good night,” Kim said. “Stop by, and see me in the morning. You’re going to need something for a hangover--a really bad one.” Then, the Oriental girl turned and walked away.
-------------------------------------------------------
Locations - Seiklon Axel: corridor outside of Mess Hall to Calvin Dk’tahg’s crew quarters
Timeline: After Korav and Bendano’s mission briefing in the Axel cafeteria, before Korav’s space-walk
Calvin caught up with Thedaius in the corridor. "Excuse me, Madam Engineer – or should I say 'Mz. President?" He hooked one arm around hers, and the two proceeded to walk down the hall, arm in arm (albeit a bit clumsily). "Sorry, I'm going to have to borrow our new corporate leader for a minute … I promise to return her in one piece!" he loudly joked to anyone within earshot – using humor and the familiarity of a close-knit crew to deflect any passing concerns about their suspicious behavior.
Once he felt they were safely out of eavesdropping range, Cal leaned in close and whispered "We need to talk." He gently squeezed her hand; a gesture intended to convey his unconditional love and support.
Feeling his hand squeezing her she let a small smile form as she leaned closer. "Yes I have a few things to talk to you about. Say 1800 in my quarters?" She pulled her hand away quickly so no one saw. They still were keeping it quiet. But she had a feeling a few may have guessed.
"Agreed" Calvin (D'eVo) said, his voice returning to a normal volume and tone, just as his overall posture and gait turned into an all-business attitude.
"Until then D'eVo," She turned to face him and whispered in his ear, "I have a favor to ask I'll tell you about when you come over." With that she left walking trying not to let her mixed feelings show.
Calvin stormed into his quarters, angrily securing the doors behind him. He opened the maintenance closet – now serving as a room closet in the closet-sized room. The closet doors slid open to reveal an ongoing duotronics project lab. Several redundant ODN cables were pulled down and out from the wall and ceiling, and were wired for power to a variety of electric and electronic devices, most of which were on and running; while the rest laid, inactive, on the floor. Some were partially disassembled, while others were obvious hybrids of commercially available technology and ‘homemade’ modifications. The variety of hand-held and laptop devices were scattered on the floor, along with a handful of miscellaneous tools and supplies.
Looking down, he noticed a faint, tiny point of reddish-orange light blinking underneath a loose assortment of patch cables and metal fittings. Seeing the visual alarm, he brushed aside the tinkerer’s errata and picked up the communication device. The communicator was about the size and width of a playing card; complete with built-in audio, video and even limited holographic capabilities. While it was capable of receiving a wide range of frequencies – everything from ancient, satellite or ground-based radio transmitters to the most modern and sophisticated subspace dual-particle signals – it was incapable of transmitting. Basically, it was a one-way pager, courtesy of his contacts in Starfleet Intelligence. After waving his thumb over the unit’s built-in ID scanner, a list of messages popped up on the screen, along with a floating holographic menu. He selected the first, ‘urgent’ message, and read it over the virtual holo-screen. He skimmed over the memo with detached disinterest, until he got to the last paragraph. Something didn’t seem right, so he decided to read it again.
Apparently, the USS Discovery was attacked by another Starfleet ship, The Troubadour. While the Discovery was able to easily fend off the attack, it was later discovered that the other ship had been commandeered by escapees from a Cardassian and Federation bio-research facility. The refugees/thieves were suffering from a variety of ‘cured’ diseases, allegedly as part of some sort of sinister, top-secret, bio-weapons project. In true Starfleet fashion, the captain of the Discovery took in the pirates, and was ‘investigating’ their story.
Even as he watched the message self-delete from the holo-monitor, his sense of disbelief and stunned shock grew. “Why would the Feds be working on a bio-weapon?!” he wondered, still not sure if he could believe his eyes. “And what about the Cardassians?! What’s their stake in this??” he wondered, suddenly feeling very confused.
After a few seconds spent staring at the blank, deactivated device in his hand, Calvin tossed it on the floor and said; “F%ck this! I’ll find out what’s REALLY going on here!” he declared to the empty room (even though he knew that the information couldn’t be anything other than correct).
He picked up another comm. device, similar to the one he just dropped. This new one was much bulkier and primitive; definitely a ‘homemade’ version of the one-way, ‘eyes-only’, one-way comm. As he switched on the clumsy gadget, he pondered the situation further. He knew – from firsthand experience – that Starfleet and the Federation wouldn’t publicly admit to such an undertaking, although it wasn’t beyond the ken to believe that they were entirely CAPABLE of such a thing.
Noticing that the homemade comm. was finally up and running, Cal punched in a series of commands into the attached manual keypad. He cycled through a series of documents, identical to the official Starfleet communiqué he had just finished reading. Moving on – after slapping the comm. on its side several times to correct some problems with the video and audio – he started looking over the next, ‘secured’ transmission. A full schematic outlay of the USS Discovery …
When he was finally done briefing himself on the situation, he sat on the floor of his room, staring at the comm’s screen in stunned silence. Even while his emotional reaction to the news caused him to stay frozen on the floor, his strategist’s mind was already piecing together some … options. Unfortunately, the shock and despair of the situation had finally sunk in: “No matter how many favors I call in, no matter who – if ANYBODY – decides to help us out … WE ARE OUTNUMBERED, OUTGUNNED, AND PROBABLY BEYOND ALL HELP. And … I need to find out more; goddamn Sh!tfleet!!!”
-------And Then------
Korav lazily stumbled about the Axel, looking for (of all things) a wrench. It had been three cases of Ferengi Wine and two bottles of Vodka and Everclear after the briefing. As far as he knew, all work had been done, and the time for getting wasted had arrived.
He muttered incoherently under his breath as he made his way into engineering and pilfered a couple power tools from Mandy's now-vacant office before stumbling back out again. He stuck the tool in a backpack he was carrying.
The Captain had a will of his own, intently searching the ship top-to-bottom for certain objects. He even stumbled onto the bridge and shouted "I AM IRON MAN!!" at the top of his lungs before exiting the bridge just as abruptly as he'd appeared.
Selvani turned around when he heard the boss-man bellow and instantly regretted it. He heard alarms fly from everywhere as the ship’s shields scraped a nearby asteroid. He saw the lightening build up between Selvine’s fingers as he turned around and adjusted course to the tune of laughter. He knew it was all in his head, but that didn’t help things much.
Korav found more tools in the armory (poor Alton was still asleep, recovering from his romp through the Honor Blade). Satisfied that he'd gathered enough objects, Korav cheerfully made his way to the top deck of the vessel.
He stopped at the airlock, confusedly staring at the containment suit locker for a second before a look of enlightenment crossed his alcohol-fogged features. He reached over, and after several loud, noisy, and verbally abusive tries, he finally managed to open the locker and proceeded to put on the space suit.
Several minutes later, Korav emerged from the airlock, announcing his presence to the galaxy with a prolonged, vociferous belch. He engaged his magnetic boots and began careening about the outer hull of the Axel, clomping along loud enough for those inside to hear him.
"HEEEEEYYY!!!" Korav roared inside his containment suit. "YOUUUUUU!!!" He punctuated the single word with a stabbed finger at a nearby Klingon vessel (a Bird-of-Prey destroyer no less). "YOU-YOu WAN sum??!!" Korav brandished his bag of procured power tools.
The Bird-of-Prey did not respond to the Captain's drunken hail.
"Oh- OH HYEAH!!!???" Korav growled, digging into the bag. "WELL TAKE THAS!!!" He pulled out a rusty engine stabilizer component and hurled it as hard as he could (as hard as the zero-gravity environment would allow) at the offending ship. He watched haplessly as the object cruised through space, tumbling gracefully towards the looming attack ship.
Korav stood for several minutes, staring at the engine component as it sailed effortlessly across the void. Eventually, his equilibrium gave out, and his head bumped against the side of his helmet as his neck muscles lost all control of his cranium.
"STOOPID JUNK!!" Korav scowled at his bag of objects. Suddenly, as if in reaction to a spoken insult, Korav whirled around to see the IKS Khitomer making a passing inspection of the Axel and the surrounding ships. "OH-HO!!!" Korav shouted, placing both hands on his hips. "ISSSS....MISSER BIG-BAD I-GONNA TRIAL U!!! WELL? TREIAL THISSSS!!!" Korav tossed the pilfered wrench at the Khitomer Fleet's flagship. "NOT 'NUFF?!! HERESOMORE!!!" Korav threw some more random tools until his bag was empty.
The gargantuan form of the Khitomer continued on, ignoring the floating trail of tools and junk struggling to catch up to the mighty warship's impulse engines.
Korav let out an obnoxious "HAH!!" As the warship departed. "NOSSO TUFF NOWW!!! I KILL ALLA YOU, YOU, YOU CRINKLEHEADS!!! UUUU RUN LIKE....LIKE DOGS!!!" He followed up the declaration with an obscene hand gesture.
-------Next: Bendano’s Quarters-------
Stepping through the corridors, Bendano quickly reached his quarters, went in, and sat down at his desk. Transferring the data on his PADD to his desk terminal, he got to work on getting the last few bits of work done on the cargo list. He was having some trouble working, though. He couldn't quite place why.
Getting up from his desk, he walked over to the viewport. The IKS Valkyrie had just flown by. Bendano looked at the ship, it was quite a piece of engineering, something he could always appreciate. To his horror, quite abruptly, the face of Korav appeared in front of the viewport, covered by an air helmet. He banged his hand on the glass and, apparently, shouted something.
"HEY!!! HEYY!!! YOU-YOU SEEDA!?! YOU SEEEDAT!?? I make him r-run. HAHAHAAAA!!!"
Bendano couldn't, of course, hear what he was saying. He was quite startled, and walked over to a communications transmitter.
=/\=Excuse me, bridge, this is Kirshov.=/\=
=/\=Hell Kirshov, this is Selvani Torr on this bridge. Anything I can help with?=/\=
=/\=Yes. Erm, is something going on?=/\=
=/\=Not that I know of, care to enlighten us?=/\=
=/\=Well, I was just looking out a viewport, and your captain appeared. Apparently he's walking on the hull, and it looked like he needed something quite urgently.=/\=
=/\=Selvani started laughing, picturing Korav wandering the outer hull=/\=Well it is his ship Sir, what do you expect me to do about it? He is however slightly inebriated=/\=
=/\=Ah. I see. ...This is unbefitting. Please transport him inside or something. Kirshov out.=/\=
Bendano sighed and shook his head. Turning back to his work, he took another glance at the viewport. Korav was gone. Deciding not to think about this any further, he quickly loaded up his PADD and sped out the room, quickly heading down to the cargo bay to get to work. As he entered through the large doors, he quickly spotted the Risian woman waiting for him.
"Well, here I am." Roquel emphasized the phrase by running her hands along her sides from her breast to her knees. "What do you want me to do?" She took three steps closer to the man with a sway that emphasized her curves.
"Very good. I have a long list of goods that need to be transported aboard. About five departments should have the cargo caches standing by. I'm still waiting for confirmation from one more, but we can get started with the rest."
"Sure," she responded. "I've been making room down here by organizing the crates, barrels, and general disarray into easily findable groupings according to size, shape, and labeling. Which, I might add is few and far between on the labeling. Anyway, there is space available right over here, quite a bit of it."
"Let's get to work."
The procedure was quite simple. Contact the correct department. Have them transport over the goods (which often took several sessions because of buffer size limitations). Put the goods in the cargo bay.
Bendano didn't much prefer the manual labor involved, but it was part of the job and he'd done it before - though a long time ago. After about two hours, they'd gotten over half the stuff aboard, and it was all neatly stacked, with easy access where necessary.
It was time for a break. Bendano had a sit down on one of the crates.
"This is going faster than I'd expected. You are a good worker, miss Roqi."
Roquel had been working, working hard, to assist Kirshov, and the work had been going quick and easy. But, Roquel was also playing with the ice man-Mr. cool-Kirshov. It had been some time since she flexed her flirtation muscles so to speak. It was overdue, now. She was having a blast. "It's been good working with you, Mr. Kirshov." She wiped some sweat off her forehead. "You don't mind getting hot and sweaty with me, do you?" A twinkle lit in the corner of her eye.
Bendano cleared his throat. "Not particularly. Why do you ask?"
Roquel had played that one a bit over the top. She decided to tone it back down some. Looking Kirshov directly in the eyes she started explaining her phrase. "Well, I'm just trying to figure out what type of man you are. Are you the ('careful' She thought.) professional, white collar executive type?" She paused and looked him over appraisingly and then returned her focus to his face. "Or...Are you the physical blue collar type? Perhaps, something in between." She guessed after picking up one of his hands and turning it over to examine his palms.
He appeared to thing for a while. "Well, it's a hard life, running cargo on a big ship. Which reminds me, that last department should have the stuff finished by now. I don't want to keep them waiting. Excuse me while I contact them."
He quickly moved off to the transporter terminal, and arranged the transaction. He turned to the woman.
"It's a small cache, it will be transported in all at once." he said. "Please take care of it, I have other business to attend to."
Did he just dodge her, completely? Roquel was a bit miffed. Maybe she wasn't as good at this as she once thought. She ceased her semi-aggressive approach to the man, and resumed an all work attitude. "No problem, I can handle that." But, then she couldn't help herself. "Big or small, it doesn't matter to me."
"Yes, well. Thank you for your help, good day."
He turned around and headed out the cargo bay. Part of him wanted to leave because he was somehow getting uncomfortable, but most of it was because he did have other business to attend to. The mercenary squad had to be ushered aboard. First transports should be coming in by now. The transporter room was two decks up, so it was another brisk walk. As he arrived, he was just in time to see the first people transport in.
Pleg materialized on the transporter pad aboard the S.S. Seiklon Axel. The Hooman named Ali at his side. Zoss had ordered the rifleman (aka "The Guns") of his unit to board the Axel first. Prior to beaming, Zoss had given them instructions to report to a Mr. Kirshov, who would be awaiting them. Also, he had designated Ali and Pleg as the responsible parties for the conduct of the group. A stern few words, "Keep the men in line, Or else....", from their CO, (while his finger jabbed at the two of them stiletto-like) had been sufficient to make that clear. Pleg wondered, 'Why us?' But, the words were never spoken. They were to follow every order to the letter. He mentally referred to this as "The First Rule of Zoss restriction".
Now, standing upon the pad, he surveyed the room. Only one crewman, namely the transporter operator, was present. At his side, was the man that could only be Bendano Kirshov. The man had a strong presence, and Pleg puffed himself up to make sure that he was displaying an equal amount. Confident in his newly issued uniform, he held his new toy, a Siridon Arms issued SASR 250 at waist level with his right hand on the pistol grip and trigger and his left supporting the barrel a little higher up.
Pleg had to admit to himself that the weapon was impressive in its appearance and its features. The manual (required reading) had indicated that its 12 phaser settings could vary from burning a whole through solid Duranium in seconds down to practically feeling like a poke in the chest by a finger. Under the barrel, was a mini missile launcher. The unit had the capability of adjusting the explosive yield of the projectile, while in the barrel. Additionally, it could be set to key in on multiple signatures; heat, metallurgical composition, movement, etc. and home on a target. Well, let's just say it made even the sloppy shooter a sharp-shot, if they could follow directions. That was why it was called a Smart Rifle!
He glanced over at Ali before taking his first step down to meet the Siridon Arms Rep. With eye contact established, the two stepped down in unison. Directing his attention to the transporter operator first, Pleg said, "You may proceed with beaming up the next group." The man looked a bit frightened at the display of weapons. He fumbled to find the controls of his own console, and nodded. Two more rifleman appeared on the pad. "Mr. Ali, if you please, put them in line over there." Pleg indicated the right wall of the room.
Ali was half amused/half impressed by the twerp’s audacity. Setting his free hand on the Ferengi’s shoulder, Ali leaned over and hissed, “I don’t know who died and made you boss, but I do know who I have to kill to be in charge now. You sure you wanna play leader?”
The Hoo-man's grip was light. Actually Pleg figured he wasn't gripping at all, but to his sensitive skin it felt like it. The Ferengi tried not to flinch. "Quiet." Ali was trying to blow this for him! Irritation set in, but also a degree of fear. This too, he tried not to show.
Ali could feel Pleg tremble slightly. He stood up, and released his grip on the man’s shoulder. [Credit where credit is due, the guy had the nerve of ten Ferengi pimps, but could Pleg hold his own against a single ‘hoo-man’ soldier, or would they have to carry his ass back to safety?] The Arab smirked as he imagined some girl dropping Pleg in single combat.
Still smirking, Ali motioned for the other riflemen to form ranks. Ali lowered his voice as the men filed past, and said, “Humor the runt.”
Pleg had established dominance in the room or at least in his mind. Now, he approached Kirshov. "Mr. Kirshov, we have been instructed to present ourselves to you. I am led to believe that you have a gear stowage space for us on Deck 4, is that correct?"
The Ferengi seemed eager to establish some form of superiority. Bendano had done his homework, however, and there was little hierarchy in the corps other than Zoss being the commander. Besides, the Ferengi looked rather puny while carrying his rifle. "We've reserved some space in cargo bay 2. You can put your weapons and other materials there."
"Sir, respectfully, we shall be retaining some of our weaponry in our berthing compartments unless otherwise instructed by Commander Zoss." Pleg tapped the weapon in an almost affectionate manner.
"I should specifically request that, due to space constrictions, you store all of your weaponry in the cargo bay. You don't need it aboard this ship, and I don't want to see it happening that one of you accidentally push the trigger and vaporize your bunkmate when you turn in your sleep." The Ferengi deserved the sneer. He'd been on this ship for two minutes and was already making luxury requests. He didn't seem to care, however.
"We are professionals. You don't have to worry about that.", the Ferengi retorted with a leacherous grin.
Ali’s eyes rolled skyward, and he counted to ten before answering, “Most of us prefer to be able to fight at a moment’s notice, Pleg’s a little more devoted to his weapon than most--and then, there’s his gun.”
"Then I shall make a formal statement of my request, acquire the captain's signature, and hand it to your commander. I care not what you do, that is for your commander to decide." Bendano smiled at the Ferengi. It was kind of racial. He didn't enjoy Ferengi at all, but it was amusing to poke one that he could kill with paperwork.
Pleg harrumphed. "Well, uh, uh....Do what you must, no matter. However..."
“Mr. K isn’t here to listen to your dysfunctional…functions,” Ali barked into Pleg’s face. “The man said, ‘Cargo bay 2,’ and that’s where we’re going. Beat off like everyone else, or get thrown out an airlock.” [There’s now sense arguing over details,] the Arab thought. Turning to face Kirshov, he said, “You got someone to show us the way?]
The verbal assault from Ali left a deafening ring in Pleg's ears. He lost his equilibrium and took an involuntary step backwards. Left foot finally catching up, he caught himself before falling. The teeter in his stance, though, indicated his lack control.
Bendano looked at the Ferengi, and barely managed to resist snickering. He smiled and eyed the Arab. "The ship is small and you can find your way around easily. You won't get lost."
The rifleman shouldered his duffle. "Oh, we wouldn't get lost," Ali assured Kirshov. "This being our first trip; makes sense that someone would want to lay down some boundaries."
"As soon as you've stowed your gear been assigned your quarters, you've little other places to go other than the mess hall or the gym, which are found easily enough."
Bendano looked around the room and sighed. "Try not to go anywhere you haven't been invited to. There's little of interest aboard this ship anyway. Now, if you would be so kind, I must go and work on my reports. I'll be back to welcome the rest of your squad when they are scheduled to arrive."
Each rifleman now aboard stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the confined space, with weapons held at shoulder arms. Every one had a small duffle upon their back with personal belongings. Pleg felt the weight of his own duffle beginning to pull against him, however he wasn't about to show it. "Let's move out." The line turned as one and exited the room.
Ali shook his head in disbelief; the little creep was still trying to take over. A look around confirmed that the others found the Ferengi equally irritating. [Note to Self: Hang Pleg by feet, and use his head for a piñata at next company party.]
Bendano waited for everyone to walk out, and then headed off to his quarters.
------- Later ------
Kim had heard yelling and the clatter of metal bouncing on metal. Making her way along the corridor, being careful to look around corners before stepping out in the open, she found a few tools scattered on the deck plates, but no sign of another being. It was now eerily silent. Looking around one final time, she turned out the lights, and headed for the door. She paused at the viewport to watch the dark, sleek form of the Khitomer pass by. It was impressive, but not as wonderful or mysterious as the stars themselves. Kim liked to pause, and admire them--beautiful, bright, constant and peaceful.
Korav, bored with pestering Kirshov, moved on to another window. Too shitfaced to see who was on the other side of this one, Korav knocked on the transpar-i-steel, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"EEEEYY!!! COME....COME ON OUT!!! WATERSH..... WAAAARM!!!" He roared.
“Aiieee!” Kim screamed. He came out of nowhere. One moment, she’s quietly appreciating God’s handiwork, and the next, there’s a madman knocking on the window. She placed her hand over her heart, and tried to control her breathing. Tapping the intercom button by the airlock, she said, “Bridge? Kim here. I’ve found the Captain.”
“Selvani here, He’s on the outer hull I would assume. Doing something inappropriate? I’ve got him tracked on the hull, but our own deflector shield has been slowing down the lock. I think I almost have him.”
=/\= Mr. Torr, there’s no telling how long he’s been out there. He may need immediate medical care. Can you beam him directly to Sickbay?=/\= Kim asked.
Another irritated voice came onto the comm. =/\= Bridge, this is Alton, why the hell is the Captain dancing on my bathroom viewport??? =/\=
Torr hit his commbadge but couldn’t help but start laughing at the thought. “Sorry,” he began as the laughing stopped. “I will have him off the hull in two shake, so to speak.” He closed the channel before beginning to laugh again and fixing a lock on the dancing target (who just so happened not to be wear a communicator to lock onto).
=/\= Dagnabbit..... hey Kim, you wanna meet me in sickbay? I'll bring my phaser. =/\=
=/\= Affirmative, Alton. Last one there is a rotton Takarian egg! =/\= Kim released the comm button, and started to run back to Sickbay. [Alton may be old, but he’s quick,] she reasoned, [and why is he bringing a phaser with him?]
---In sickbay---
Alton adjusted the setting on his phaser to maximum stun and nodded to Kim. "Ready when you are."
“Is that really necessary?” she asked. There was no time for the veteran to answer, and he had been with the captain longer than anyone else.
Korav materialized in the middle of sickbay, immediately falling over from the unexpected gravity increase. He was in the middle of getting up when Alton shot him square in the face. The inebriated Captain collapsed with a startled grunt.
Kim rushed forward to catch the captain before he fell face first on the deck plates. She managed to hold his slumped form over her shoulders, but she couldn’t support his weight for long. “A little help here,” she said urgently. “Is he going to be okay?”
"He'll live." Alton replied. "Help me get him outta this suit and onto a bio-bed. DOC!!! HEY ERNIE!!"
They laid Korav out on the bio-bed, and Kim quickly started unfastening the protective suit. She grabbed a tricorder and started to scan the patient.
Ernie materialized next to Kim, hands clasped behind his back, mannerisms impeccably professional as usual. "Please explain the nature of your- oh dear lord, is that the Captain?!"
"Yep." Alton nodded. "You know how to get him sober quick?"
"I'd rather treat his phaser injury first, but yes, we can do that as well." The doctor examined the unconscious man, frowning as he did so. "Miss Lee, run a dermal scan of the dear Captain's face, tell me how badly the phaser burned him. I also want a blood alcohol level and as well as how badly he's dehydrated."
“Already on it, Doctor,” Kim replied. “The burns on his face are superficial, but the combination of decompression and alcohol has left him badly dehydrated.” She looked over at Ernie, “His blood alcohol is 4.2--four times the legal galactic limit for public intoxication, and he may be in danger of alcohol poisoning. This level of toxicity would have killed most sentient beings already.”
"Please begin anti-burn therapy. I'll research how to handle the alcohol poisoning. His high levels and unique blood chemistry mean we can't rely on conventional chemical treatments." Ernie got a distant look in his eyes while Kim worked.
"Yeah, you do that." Alton placed a hand on Kim's shoulder. "Anyone asks, he fell on his face, alright?"
Kim looked up at the man who had always been so kind to her. She’d started to think of the Axel as home, and the crew as family. Alton was the uncle who showed up in between adventures, and regaled everyone with tales of adventure and foreign places. “By the time he wakes up,” Kim said, “there’ll be no evidence of a fall, or anything else.”
"If you've got things handled here, I'm gonna go finish my shower. Give me a holler if ya need anything ya hear?" Alton winked.
Kim grinned. It was impossible to tell, if the wink was conspiratorial, or if the old man was flirting.
Ernie suddenly snapped back, an evil grin on his face. "Well, it seems I have found the solution to our issue."
Ernie looked too pleased, Kim thought. [He’s up to something…?]
"I'm initializing the replication of some medical equipment." Ernie rubbed his hands together, look of absolute delight on his face. "We're going to start an ancient Earth procedure called a stomach pump. He still probably has the majority of the alcohol still in his stomach, so we're going to get rid of that. We're then doing a saline flush of his circulatory system to thin out his blood and replace the lost water content. I'm also initializing the restraining system in the bio-bed. Just in case."
“Did you search through all of Starfleet’s data banks for the worst possible solution, or is this just a happy coincidence?” Kim asked the EMH.
"A bit of both, I'm afraid." Ernie said, smiling. A pile of equipment appeared on the medical replicator next to the bio bed. "Now then, let's get started, shall we?" Ernie rubbed his hands together, evil smile still on his face.
---------------------------------------------------
Locations: Seiklon Axel: corridor outside of Mess Hall to Calvin Dk’tahg’s crew quarters
Calvin caught up with Thedaius in the corridor. "Excuse me, Madam Engineer – or should I say 'Mz. President?" He hooked one arm around hers, and the two proceeded to walk down the hall, arm in arm (albeit a bit clumsily). "Sorry, I'm going to have to borrow our new corporate leader for a minute … I promise to return her in one piece!" he loudly joked to anyone within earshot – using humor and the familiarity of a close-knit crew to
deflect any passing concerns about their suspicious behavior.
Once he felt they were safely out of eavesdropping range, Cal leaned in close and whispered "We need to talk." He gently squeezed her hand; a gesture intended to convey his unconditional love and support.
Feeling his hand squeezing her she let a small smile form as she leaned closer. "Yes I have a few things to talk to you about. Say 1800 in my quarters?" She pulled her hand away quickly so no one saw. They still were keeping it quiet. But she had a feeling a few may have guessed.
"Agreed" Calvin (D'eVo) said, his voice returning to a normal volume and tone, just as his overall posture and gait turned into an all-business attitude.
"Until then D'eVo," She turned to face him and whispered in his ear, "I have a favor to ask I'll tell you about when you come over." With that she left walking trying not to let her mixed feelings show.
Calvin stormed into his quarters, angrily securing the doors behind him. He opened the maintenance closet – now serving as a room closet in the closet-sized room. The closet doors slid open to reveal an ongoing duotronics project lab. Several redundant ODN cables were pulled down and out from the wall and ceiling, and were wired for power to a variety of electric and electronic devices, most of which were on and running; while the rest laid, inactive, on the floor. Some were partially disassembled, while others were obvious hybrids of commercially available technology and ‘homemade’ modifications. The variety of hand-held and laptop devices were scattered on the floor, along with a handful of miscellaneous tools and supplies.
Looking down, he noticed a faint, tiny point of reddish-orange light blinking underneath a loose assortment of patch cables and metal fittings. Seeing the visual alarm, he brushed aside the tinkerer’s errata and picked up the communication device. The communicator was about the size and width of a playing card; complete with built-in audio, video and even limited holographic capabilities. While it was capable of receiving a wide range of frequencies – everything from ancient, satellite or ground-based radio transmitters to the most modern and sophisticated subspace dual-particle signals – it was incapable of transmitting. Basically, it was a one-way pager, courtesy of his contacts in Starfleet Intelligence. After waving his thumb over the unit’s built-in ID scanner, a list of messages popped up on the screen, along with a floating holographic menu. He selected the first, ‘urgent’ message, and read it over the virtual holo-screen. He skimmed over the memo with detached disinterest, until he got to the last paragraph. Something didn’t seem right, so he decided to read it again.
Apparently, the USS Discovery was attacked by another Starfleet ship, The Troubadour. While the Discovery was able to easily fend off the attack, it was later discovered that the other ship had been commandeered by escapees from a Cardassian and Federation bio-research facility. The refugees/thieves were suffering from a variety of ‘cured’ diseases, allegedly as part of some sort of sinister, top-secret, bio-weapons project. In true Starfleet fashion, the captain of the Discovery took in the pirates, and was ‘investigating’ their story.
Even as he watched the message self-delete from the holo-monitor, his sense of disbelief and stunned shock grew. “Why would the Feds be working on a bio-weapon?!” he wondered, still not sure if he could believe his eyes. “And what about the Cardassians?! What’s their stake in this??” he wondered, suddenly feeling very confused.
After a few seconds spent staring at the blank, deactivated device in his hand, Calvin tossed it on the floor and said; “F%ck this! I’ll find out what’s REALLY going on here!” he declared to the empty room (even though he knew that the information couldn’t be anything other than correct).
He picked up another comm. device, similar to the one he just dropped. This new one was much bulkier and primitive; definitely a ‘homemade’ version of the one-way, ‘eyes-only’, one-way comm. As he switched on the clumsy gadget, he pondered the situation further. He knew – from firsthand experience – that Starfleet and the Federation wouldn’t publicly admit to such an undertaking, although it wasn’t beyond the ken to believe that they were entirely CAPABLE of such a thing.
Noticing that the homemade comm. was finally up and running, Cal punched in a series of commands into the attached manual keypad. He cycled through a series of documents, identical to the official Starfleet communiqué he had just finished reading. Moving on – after slapping the comm. on its side several times to correct some problems with the video and audio – he started looking over the next, ‘secured’ transmission. A full schematic outlay of the USS Discovery …
When he was finally done briefing himself on the situation, he sat on the floor of his room, staring at the comm’s screen in stunned silence. Even while his emotional reaction to the news caused him to stay frozen on the floor, his strategist’s mind was already piecing together some … options. Unfortunately, the shock and despair of the situation had finally sunk in: “No matter how many favors I call in, no matter who – if ANYBODY – decides to help us out … WE ARE OUTNUMBERED, OUTGUNNED, AND PROBABLY BEYOND ALL HELP. And … I need to find out more; goddamn Sh!tfleet!!!”
“Oh well!” D’eVo announced to the empty room, standing up briskly – and immediately slamming his head on an overhanging metal beam. “OW!!!” he exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot on the top of his skull while simultaneously backing out of the ‘wiring closet’ and releasing a long, loud stream of colorful, bilingual profanity. While backing out of the makeshift comm. center – practically running away from the painful sharp corners inside – his backpedaling legs caught on the corner of his nightstand, and he went tumbling back … Landing in a seated position, the air in his lungs rushed out in a loud sighing gasp – followed by a long, low, growling groan from the painful realization that he fell directly on a VERY sensitive area.
He laid on the floor of his crew-cabin in the fetal position; cradling his newest, self-inflicted injury with both hands while rocking back and forth from the pain and stress. As he stared out the various bits of fuzz and debris littering the carpeted floor in front of him, D’eVo (Calvin) realized; “I think I need to calm down, NOW.”
He rolled over – moving one hand off his crotch, grasping at his side while a sharp, shooting pain flared up into his abdomen – he thought: “Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten caught between the airlock and the hatch!” Calvin then stood upright, turned around and walked over to the diabolical piece of furniture that foiled him just seconds earlier. After giving the wooden nightstand a swift kick with one of his work-boots, he bent over – groaning slightly – and opened the door of the stand.
The inner compartment contained a basic first-aid kit, on top of a small refrigerated storage unit. Cal dragged the medi-kit off the top of the refrigerator – pausing to peel away a few hanging strips of wood – and pulled out two old-fashioned thermal first-aid packs. Tearing off the plastic strips at the ‘cold’ end, he waited a few seconds for the lukewarm, gel-filled bags to freeze and harden (juggling them in each hand while they froze). Calvin then stuffed one of the ice packs down the front of his pants – exhaling sharply at the ‘refreshing’ sensation – while he cradled one on the top of his head. As he moved on to his next task, he caught his reflection in the wall mirror opposite him. What he saw made him break into a soft chuckle, the boiling anxiety of the last hour melting away in an instant; “D’eVo Dk’tahg, mighty Klingon warrior - waddling sideways through his command center with a bag of ice on the lump on his head, and another on his daddy parts! The Empire’s finest moment!!” he commented to the face staring back at him. And that face had broken into a very broad, boyish, and very un-Klingon grin.
He then turned around and headed back to his ‘command center’ in the room’s walk-in closet. Borrowing a design innovation from Starfleet’s early NX-class ships, D’eVo had installed an information post in the center of the closet. The information center was a set of parallel vertical bars, with flatscreen, 2-D video monitors and data terminals attached between. D’eVo switched on the one functioning monitor, and then began randomly cycling through display screens from the various video sensors installed throughout the ship. He had managed to finally quell his paranoia about visually eavesdropping on the ship and crew, even though he still felt the need to remind himself that he was only tapping into inactive systems currently installed, and not really ‘breaking into’ the data-stream …
For the first few seconds, the monitor didn’t show him anything useful, just the routine, day-to-day operations onboard the Seiklon Axel: Phemeril was busy prepping vegetables and boiling several pots of grains in the kitchen and a number of the native crew were either at their stations or walking around the tiny ship (luckily for him, the onboard surveillance system wasn’t monitoring anyone’s personal quarters). A small part of D’eVo (Calvin) set aside thoughts of who among the crew would be … “sympathetic.” For now, he was more than content “just to see if the coast is clear, for now” he thought, already plotting.
He checked the bridge’s video monitor first (wondering “How does Selvine feels about this bit of dirty business? Does she really know what’s going on here??”), on his way to Engineering (“I wonder if Daius is on duty …” he thought). Before moving on, a sudden blur - just off the edge of the screen - caught his eye. Curious, he commanded “Computer: shift view to the right one sector and magnify 1x.” The image showed a loud, boisterous, and very DRUNK Korav stumbling around the bridge, screaming something about an ‘iron man!’ “Ah … that seems promising” Calvin muttered, as this new development gave him something ELSE to deal with!
The video screen displayed the transporter room next: an armed Ferengi, human, and Jem Ha’dar beamed in. Cal leaned in, more than a little concerned about “this little boarding party.” In the back of the room, behind the controls, stood the ‘pencil-neck’ welcoming them in, none other than the renowned Bendano Kirshov, a known associate to one of the most powerful arms dealers and manufacturers in either quadrant.
Cal watched as Roqi introduced herself to the man, paying close attention when their conversation shifted to the subject of the Blackskulls’ weapons stores on the Axel. “Cargo Bay 5, eh?” … Calvin did not like where this was heading; “It’s one thing to be the have the most guns among people I almost trust, but do I trust these professional trigger fingers NOT to kill everyone else in their sleep?!” He pondered this while casting a habitual glance at his – practically empty – gun cabinet (hidden behind a false wall alongside his bed).
After switching through another series of empty corners, and exterior views of the ship, Cal (D’eVo) checked in Sickbay. There, she saw Kim talking to the Jem Ha’dar he saw in the transporter room. “I wonder if Kim would help – or at least give me some information …” Cal pondered, knowing (by now) that at least one of the mercs had visited Sickbay. With the unique medical requirements of the Jem Ha’dar, there was a chance to derail this suicide missions before it even began. He decided to file away this option for later, as it looked like she was too busy playing the good doctor at the moment.
His mental planning was interrupted by a series of muffled, clunking thumps from outside the ship. “What the hell?!” D’eVo said aloud, before hopping on his bed and rushing over to the viewport overhead.
His eyes followed Korav as he lumbered across the Axel’s outer hull; threatening and throwing a set of tools at a nearby Klingon warship, and carrying on a conversation with someone on the other side.
Craning his neck, Calvin could see that the Captain was now marching erratically outside the crew quarters. “He should be at Alton’s room by now … what the hell is he doing out there, anyway?!” he thought: shocked, amused, slightly disgusted and … completely incapable of looking away.
Calvin – still deep in thought - walked over to the onboard comm. system near the door and keyed in Thedaius’ room. “Hey Daius, this is D’eVo – change of plans … could you come down here please?” He waited a few seconds for a response. After hearing none, he returned to his busywork.
As he walked over to an open junk-box in front of his bed, Calvin (D’eVo) was pondering the many, recent, troubling events he had witnessed. He knelt in front of the opened trunk and started absentmindedly going through it, even as his thoughts were centered on the strangely ‘unprofessional’ behavior of the ship’s captain.
D’eVo still trusted Korav – and he wasn’t about to judge him for something he himself did from time to time. “Namely; get blind, stinking drunk! But this isn’t the time or place.” Even as he made this judgment – yanking out a tangled bundle of cables from the box – his eyes passed back and forth to the (still unpacked) duffle bag on his bed (and the few meager scrapings of Denobulan rockbud squirreled away inside) ...
“Hell the guy kept this ship and it’s crew in the middle of a Klingon firefight! If anyone deserves to tie one on … well, actually, that would be ME!” he muttered out loud, peeking into the box with sudden interest, before diving back into it.
“Either way, I’ve never seen ‘Barney Google’ (D'eVo’s VERY secret nickname for their fearless leader) get ass-faced while on active duty - there’s got to be something more going on here. I wonder … does he actually feel guilty about the bio-weapons deal?” Even as D’eVo finished the thought, he pulled out an ancient, yet still functioning, phase pistol.
D’eVo then popped open the top of the pistol, inspecting the weapon: after discovering that the battery was dead, and the weapon was far from in working shape, he tossed it aside with a disgusted snarl. “And where the hell is Daius?!” he exclaimed, standing up suddenly and walking back over to the door.
“Engine room: has anyone down there seen ‘the Romulan’?” he barked into the comm.
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