Embedded Files
Location: Sickbay
Selvani walked off the bridge holding his head. Another four hours and not only could he not talk down Jerrai from his continued tirade (he had recently been informed of the illegality of their leaving Trill, with its coupled exile) but the others had now joined in on one side or the other. It was like having the crowd from a major sporting event in his head. He walked past Selvine and Korav ignoring their sideways looks as he muttered to himself in increasing volume “shut up, shut up, shut up, ALL OF YOU” he stepped onto the turbolift and manually pushed the button for sickbay hoping they were all too busy yelling at each other to notice he was going to sickbay (someone would have complained).
The lift stopped and Selvani stepped out and walked into the sickbay holding his head and muttering to himself.
Kim had been learning some basic surgical techniques from Ernie--the different instruments, what they were used for, how to hold them, and now that it was time to call it a day, how to sterilize them. The door to the infirmary swung aside, and Kim looked up to see a very pale, and distraught Trill pilot. Quickly setting down the tray, she grabbed a tricorder and went to help him.
He looked pitiful, his outfit disheveled, his hair unkempt (from attempting to pull it out, consequently causing more ancestral interaction). He looked at her as if he could barely see her and pointed at his head, “Can you make them shut up?”
She helped him over to a bio-bed, and turned on the tricorder. He looked pathetic--dark circles under his eyes, skin that was damp and sticky with sweat, and he was running a fever. He was usually not only healthy, but very attractive. Now, his hair stood out at odd angles, and Kim reached over and tried to smooth it out with her fingers. “Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” she suggested. “Yours was not a typical joining, was it?”
Selvani shook his head but held up his finger as if to tell her to hold on.
“This wouldn’t be happening if you would have just left us on Trill like you were supposed to.” Began Jerrai again indignantly Berenn then interrupted again breaking Selvani’s train of thought, “But he didn’t and we have to live with that, we are with the symbiont and he is the host… and what he chooses to do is done. We can merely advise.”
“I am advising,” Jerrai added indignantly “He just doesn’t seem to want to listen.”
“Maybe” Chimed in Nezra, the sole female incarnantion of the Torr, “It is the way you choose to advise, you don’t see any of the rest of us yelling for hours on end, and causing this young host such hardship. Do you want to see us taken back to trill and be executed with the boy?”
“They wouldn’t DARE!” Claimed Jerrai arrogantly, “Given all we have done for the Trill government before this moron kidnapped us?”
“Actually…” Chimped in Berenn, who had once sat as a major government figure on Trill, “The law states that any criminal action undertaken by a joined Trill is considered the fault of both the Symbiont and the Host. And since we were joined in the process of this action with a choice to return, and did not. We would be held for the same charge as the boy.”
Selvani looked up, slightly glassy eyed and said in a near-whisper “Sorry, they were speaking again.”
Ernie had expressed concern over this, and the pilot’s symptoms were not life threatening. Kim went to the replicator and touched several buttons. Wisps of steam could be seen coming from the cup that appeared next. Kim held it in both hands, walked back to where Selvani was sitting, and offered it to him.
“What is it?” asked Selvani, happy to have heard the end of this argument at long last.
“Warm milk with vanilla and sweetener,” she answered. “It will help you sleep, as well as grow strong bones and teeth,” she smiled. “My mother used to make it for me.”
Selvani tried a small sip, and followed it with a larger drink. “It is quite good actually”, he continued to drink the rich combination feeling it’s effects beginning.
Kim bowed her head, and bit her lip before looking up at her patient again. “I need you to spend the night here for observation, but from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you need family counseling.”
He nodded, half asleep and muttered. “They have shut up for now, can you do anything about the headache tho? Too many voices,… head… hurts” he finished the sentence and looked as if he were about to fall asleep right there, after multiple nights of spotty sleep, living in a hellish version of “all my ancestors” he was ready for something to fix this.
“How many ancestors are we talking about?” Kim asked.
“Before my hosting there were 10 other hosts that are all preserved as a part of the symbiot for future hosts.” Selvani began, remembering things he wasn’t born to see.
“Not everyone’s essence is preserved for future generations,” Kim thought aloud. “These ancestors of yours must have been quite remarkable. Can you tell be a little about each of them?”
“They are quite remarkable, but they actually are all preserved. It is a side effect of the joining process that all previous hosts are preserved. But due to stringent Trill screening, only those who would be remarkable are accepted for joining.” He thought back before continuing.
“The first was Jerrai, he was a respected warrior of the Trill that when he was promoted to the higher ranks became acceptable for joining. There they gave him a new symbiont, the Torr. It is likely because of this first joining that the Torr symbiont would have the ambition to feel it has the right to decide it’s own host.” He remembered being in many battles, the thrill of victory and the anguish of defeat.
“The second was Nezra, she was a counselor for the early Trill alliances. She wasn’t great at the diplomacy part, but you are hard pressed to find someone who is more understanding or capable.” He remembered making people open up in ways he had never in his life imagined. The freedom she brought was astounding.
“Gorov and Korash were third and fourth. They were both warriors during the second major Trill war. Gorav was chosen due to battle prowess, and Korash was the one who saved the symbiont when Gorav died. He died years later as a respected but crippled veteran.” He remembered the horrors of war ans shuddered.
“Berenn was the Fifth. He was a politican and a judge in his life. He was the fairest man I have ever known. His entire view is always for the betterment of everyone, and to take things as they come without looking at what could have been.” He remembered giving stirring speeches that set good men free, and put bad men away. He remembered the honor of the Judging, he remembered every long night of self-hatred when he failed.
“Talis was Sixth, he was a scientist. He viewed the entire world as something to be explored, learned, and then taught. He says very little, but remembers everything that interested him.” He remembered long nights slaving over a computer trying to make an line of numbers right, and he remembered the justification of learning his calculations were right and changed everything.
“Konra was Seventh, he was a commander of a Trill defensive station. He was a good, strong commander. He relied well on Berenn and Jerrai in his position.” He remembered commanding men to their death, deaths that saved the lives of thousands of Trill below. And he remembered regretting every command that lead to a death.
“We do not speak of Roshin, he was a politician who tried to take over the whole of Trill with a small rebellion army.” He remembered the covert operations and the feeling of being a freedom fighter, he wondered silently if the name Selvani would be as seldom spoken after his flight from Trill.
“It is because of his actions that the Ninth host was a priest, Dorett. He served his entire life as a priest helping the poor as well as he could and devoting much of his life to bless the families of those killed in the Rebellion.” He remembered seeing miraculous healings, and the smiles on the faces of grieving families as they were given what they needed most.
“The final host before myself was a Doctor. Ezeren He worked a long life healing those who he could, and making comfortable those who he could not.” He remembered watching healings of a much more mundane nature, but no less miraculous to those who could now suddenly do what they thought never to do again. He remembered the joy of a success, and the crushing pain when a patient died. Worse yet when the symbiont could not be saved.
“That’s an impressive family to have,” Kim replied. “It seems to me, that all of them think they are the most important, and every one of them believes that they’re more important than you.”
“Well, they would be right. Even the scoundrel was an important figure for Trill. But I could be so much more, I just wish they could see that and help me.” He felt the milk concoction finally beginning to work. He was thinking of something else to say, but she began speaking. Which was fine, as he didn’t think it would have come out right anyways.
“We’ll discuss this again in the morning, when you’re feeling better,” Kim said. She needed to talk with Ernie, but out of earshot of the Trill and his ancestors.
As Selvani drifted off, he looked up and saw the nurse checking a reading. “Beautiful…” he said noticing the way the light sparkled in her eyes.
Kim looked from the chart above the bed, back down to Selvani. He was starting to drift off to sleep. She got out a blanket and tucked it in around his shoulders. She glanced over to the other bed, where Korav was resting comfortably. She dimmed the lights to help them sleep, and not surprised to see the captain’s eyes glowing. [There are families, and then there are families,] she mused, [and while most of the time she thought of Korav as a father figure, sometimes he was more like Uncle Fester.]
He muttered something unintelligible but nothing more… he had fallen asleep.
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Location: Cargo Bay 3
The inventory of cache 5 was annoying the crap out of Roquel. She scratched her head in confusion for the twentieth time in half an hour. "Now, what the hell is this thing?" She was supposed to be reviewing the medical equipment that had been shipped up to the Axel. Matching I.D. tags to the manifest was easy. Knowing whether or not it was REALLY what it said it was....was hard. Kirshov was supposed to send her help. It hadn't arrived yet. She raised up from her crouched position, and turned around into the chest and face of a monster. She stumbled backwards and fell over the top of the container she'd just inspected.
"Saliss Garr, medic, Blackskulls unit, at your service." The lizard man offered his hand to assist her at the same time as he offered his name. He bent towards her allowing her to get a grip upon his wrist. Then, he easily pulled her back to her feet. Unexpectedly, the woman gave him a hard thump on his upper chest as soon as her right hand was free.
"You scared the sh*t out of me! Why didn't you say something when you came in?" Roquel asked angrily.
Saliss was taken aback by the Risian woman's attitude. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just waiting until you were less...occupied."
"Right." Roquel responded sarcastically, still irritated by his abrupt appearance behind her. She brushed off the dust and dirt from her coveralls, then did a quick survey of where she'd fallen to see if she'd damaged anything. "Looks O.K., let's get to work. I need help identifying this equipment."
It went smoothly from there. All Roquel had to do was read off the I.D. tags and Saliss confirmed that the equipment matched the list. In the end she was grateful for the assistance, regardless of the fact that the Saurian creeped her out.
Roquel took her padd and moved closer to the computer on the other side of the room. As soon as she got a solid connection, she could send the information to Kirshov. Halfway there she was thrown to the deck by an explosion behind her. She rolled over onto her side and looked back in the direction she had come. "Saliss!" She yelled. The Saurian was nowhere to be seen. From her vantage, Roquel could see that a plasma conduit running along the outside wall had burst. Flames were beginning to spread from the point of origin of the explosion. She scrambled to the door and into the corridor before looking again.
Suddenly, the cargo bay door slid shut on its own. Saliss was trapped inside. Roquel moved to the window next to the door to see what was going on inside. With the safety of the wall between her and the chaos, she was able to focus better and watch for the Saurian. Quickly, she was able to spot him, in the corner behind the flames. He appeared to be working with a control panel on the wall, flames licking up around his legs and more spouting from the conduit itself to his right. Smoke obscured any more of what was happening.
Roquel hit the button on the comm panel near the door =^="Bridge! Bridge! Fire in cargo bay 3! Hurry! Saliss is trapped inside! Please, hurry!" =^= When no response came, she realized that the comm must have shorted out along with the door. She yelled aloud down the corridor. "Help! Anyone, come quick!" Only seconds later, she heard footsteps coming quickly towards her.
"What's going on?" A somewhat gruff, excited voice called to her. A squat looking Ferengi male approached at a run. As he halted next to her Roquel pointed through the glass. Pleg, put his face to the window and peered through. Turning back to her, he asked. "What the hell is he doing in there? Damn! Help me get this panel off." The Ferengi pulled a tool from inside his uniform sleeve. It looked like a screwdriver/ pry-bar to her. The panel came off easily as the two of them pulled at it's edges.
Meanwhile inside, Saliss managed to work his own panel to shut off the flow through the plasma conduit. He also activated the fire suppression system. Then, legs and arms afire he stumbled towards the door. By the time he got there, his rescuers had managed to get it open. Saliss placed a bloodied hand against the entranceway to support himself. The slickness of his own blood, however, defied his efforts and his hand slipped and he dropped to the floor on his burnt knees. "Ahhgghh!" He managed to scream, weakly.
Pleg looked into the cargo bay. "It looks like the fire's out. Let's get him to sickbay." Pleg and Roquel lifted Saliss up carefully, by his upper arms. As they did so, the Saurian passed out. They put an arm each across their shoulders, and walked with him between them down the corridor in the direction of the turbo-lift.
-------------Sickbay------------
Kim heard the fire alarm go off, and knew it was time to wake the Captain up. She shook his shoulder, saying, “Captain, wake up! We need you.” She was about to try something else, when Ernie interrupted.
------------Turbolift------------
Saliss was getting heavy. Roquel, not the most physical person in the known universe was beginning to fold under his weight. "Hey," She said to the man who'd come to the rescue. "Help me lower Saliss to the floor. We'll need our strength to get him to sickbay once the turbolift stops, and I need to try the comm system from here."
"Gladly." Grunted the short, stocky Ferengi. The two worked together to ease the Saurian to the floor. "You may have to convince me to pick him back up!" He added, snidely, while rubbing his shoulder. "I've just about lost feeling in my arm. The one's I do have aren't good. Besides...." Pleg looked himself over quickly. "....he's gotten blood all over my clothes! He's gonna owe me for these. I'll bill him for damages."
Roquel couldn't believe her ears. The troll wasn't as compassionate as she'd supposed. Maybe he was putting on an act; she didn't know. She almost avoided showing her disgust with his attitude.....almost. "-/\- Sickbay, we have an emergency. There was a fire in cargo bay 3. We are bringing in a wounded man, one of the SAI team. "Any help you can lend us would be great..." The doors swished open as the lift came to a halt. "...never mind, we're on Deck 2 now. Just be ready. Roquel out. -/\-" She directed her attention to the wounded man and back to the Ferengi. "You ready?"
"I suppose. Let's get this over with." Pleg got into position in time with the Risian woman; they lifted together. "O.K. Let's go."
-------------Sick bay------------
Kim exhaled slowly, walked over to the bio-bed, and pushed Korav on to the floor.
Ernie cleared his throat. "Excuse me Miss Lee, but I believe a nudge in the right direction should suffice." Ernie said while making shoving gestures.
“The ship is on fire, and we need that bed to treat the wounded,” Kim answered.
The big man hit the deck with a muffled *thump*. The jolt shook Korav out of his stupor and brought him back to the world of reality. "The....freakin......hell....?" He groaned as he struggled to get up.
"F-fire??!! Aw DOG SHIT!!" Korav shot up (still a bit tipsy) and stormed out of sickbay.
"I will never understand that man." Ernie shook his head. "How he got to captain a ship is anybody's guess...."
Selvani starts to wake up.
Kim quickly picked up a sedative, and administered to their other patient. Directing her remarks to Ernie, she said, “He’s not going to be any good to us, if he doesn’t get some sleep. And, I don’t want him to get in the way of treating this new guy from SAI.”
"Good call, Miss Lee. I'll begin downloading burn treatment procedures. Any idea what races came aboard?" Ernie said, walking up to a terminal.
“I’m not even sure what race he is,” Kim told Ernie. “They had a Jem’Hadar, a Ferengi, an Andorian and some sort of lizard man with them. We have to be prepared for anything.”
"Most likely a Saurian. There are surprisingly few Alpha Quadrant reptilians." Information suddenly appeared on the screen and zipped by at lightning fast speeds.
The sickbay doors opened to reveal two weary individuals supporting the weight of the Saurian patient. The man looked totally awful. Clothing was burned away revealing burnt and blistered flesh on his hands, arms and legs. The legs were the worst. Some of the skin had burnt to a crisp and split, blood oozed from the open wounds mixing with puss of an olive green color.
"Help" Roquel squeaked breathlessly. She gasped in shock as the man's weight shifted drastically off of her. The Ferengi had let go once inside the door.
"He's all yours." Pleg said to medical team as he settled into a chair by the door. Roquel awkwardly eased the Saurian down, once again. Gratefully, the burn victim never woke.
Zoss burst into sickbay, moving immediately to the injured Saurian. "How bad is he hurt?" He demanded.
“He’s going to live, but the damage is extensive,” Kim paused to report.
"Please don't interrupt Miss Lee." Ernie said, appearing suddenly behind Zoss. "Plasma burns along 80% of his body. He's shedding skin, now please let us work."
Kim set to work quickly and efficiently; glad for all the simulations Ernie had put her though. She tried to tune out the confusion behind her and focus on the task at hand. The smell of charred flesh, smoke, pus and sweat was everywhere. She wanted to puke, but she wouldn’t. A burn patient is in terrible pain, they’re scared and subject to shock. She had to remain calm, or the patient’s condition and morale would worsen. The best she could do for her patient was to work quickly, getting the worst of it over with quickly.
The bio-bed was cold against his upper arms. His hands burned numbly. He couldn't feel his legs at all. And then Saliss remembered the attack. The blast from the Jem'Hadar fighter, and the fact that he'd lost his legs. He tried to move and couldn't. His arms were strapped at his sides. He opened his eyes and tried to look down. He couldn't move his head, either. The light in the room was harsh at first. The voices unrecognizable in his drugged state. The legs, gone. He was sure of it; he remembered.
Someone leaned in over the top of him, apparently realizing that his eyes had opened, though they had not yet focused on any one thing. Who? He tried to see. Was it Garr, his mentor? No. Who? The silhouette coalesced finally into a solid image, a Jem'Hadar!
"AAAAAAGGggghh! AAAAAAGGggghh! AAAAAAGGggghh!...." He screamed for what seemed to him to be forever. Now, he knew why this didn't look familiar. He had been captured by the Jem'Hadar. They had taken his legs from him and now his freedom, and his world. "AAAAAAGGggghh! AAAAAAGGggghh! AAAAAAGGggghh!...."
His screams were not alone now. A high shrill keening accompanied it.
"Aaaaiiieeeee........................!!!!!" Pleg still sat in the corner by the door clutching his ears hard as though trying to shove them inside his own head. "Would somebody shut him up and put him out of my misery!" Pleg staggered to his feet and lurched out the door.
"Miss Lee, hypospray. 30 cc's of nerve blocker/sedative compound." Ernie calmly instructed amidst the chaos and screams.
Kim complied, administering the hypospray. She eased the Saurian back onto the biobed, and tried to think of something encouraging to say. “You’re going to be alright,” Kim assured him. “The new skin underneath is really beautiful.”
"Pay attention to ME and ONLY ME!" Ernie snapped, quite frustrated that he wasn't able to interact with anything. "Get some gloves on and begin peeling back the burnt skin. Apply disinfectant spray on each of the areas that you uncover. I will activate an antimicrobial force field around the bio-bed."
“Yes, Sir,” Kim replied. She pulled on the rubbery, talc-lined, sterile gloves, and grabbed a spray can. She also grabbed a laser scalpel--it was lightweight, easy to use, and cauterized wounds as it worked. She began easing the sticky, badly damaged skin away from the Saurian’s body. When that flap of damaged skin wouldn’t come any farther away, she cut the flap off and sprayed against infection. It was really gross, at first, but as the old tissue was removed, and new layers of skin were uncovered, Kim discovered that the new skin really was beautiful.
Zoss stood back and watched as the medical personnel worked. His mind raced, wondering what manner of accident could have resulted in this. He also thought amusingly to himself how he'd been so deftly proven wrong when he'd told the young Human female that his team wouldn't be requiring the services of sickbay.
In the hall, Pleg shook off the pain in his ears. He chastised himself for sticking around. He didn't owe Saliss anything. He corrected himself quickly. No, he was looking after an asset to the team. Protection of Assets, yes...that was something any Ferengi could get behind. His decision to say was sound business sense and nothing more.
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Location: Axel, Turbolift
Shock was setting in. The explosion in Cargo Bay 5 followed by the rescue of Saliss and the trip to the medical bay had left her spent, both physically and mentally. Blood still covered her right side, from where the Saurian had been supported on his left by her along the way, and her hands. Roquel needed to get back to the cargo bay and assess the damage. Maybe, the crew already had someone in there doing a once over....maybe not....but Roquel was determined to be on site soon. The feel of the coagulated blood was sickening her though, so she decided to go back via her quarters. "Starr", the woman from engineering who was currently the only other occupant in there 4 person quarters, would be off at her duty station about now. There would be no reason to traumatize her as well.
The turbo lift was going to require a decent cleaning, she decided as she propped herself against the wall inside. The pool on the floor, a brilliant crimson, nauseated her even further. "Deck 3" The turbo lift descended one level and the doors opened onto the hallway. This was the first decking that wasn't marked by the trio's previous passing. Roquel felt a little cleaner just by being here.
Ten minutes later, clean clothing and a cleansed body, Roquel was back in Bay 5. The damage wasn't nearly as bad as she might have surmised. The fire suppression system had done a good job of sucking the air out and blasting in the necessary compounds to extinguish the blaze. Saliss had managed to salvage almost everything by his quick action.....everything except himself. Roquel was worried about the man; his burns had been severe and widespread across his lower extremities.
She put that out of her mind and refocused on the medical equipment that Saliss and her were inventorying just prior to the blast. Luckily, all of that had been spared. Had no-one been inside at the time to activate the suppression system from within, the fire likely would have wiped it all out in minutes while the crew made their way down here. The door panel malfunction would have stalled them off even further, since it caused the door to remain closed, communications to fail, and who knew what else. A bad feeling came over her. 'What if this wasn't an accident?'
Roquel had left the cargo bay door locked open. She didn't feel safe in here...yet. Foot-falls in the corridor alerted her to company. She wondered if it would be Kirshov checking in on the status of his goods. Maybe it would be the XO. Roquel still knew little of Selvine, but there would be plenty of time for that. Whomever, she was pretty sure it wasn't going to be Korav. He didn't seem like he'd be quite coherent, yet.
Starr rounded the corner into the cargo bay. She took in the sight of the ruptured plasma conduit and the cargo strewn everywhere, covered in fire suppressant foam. Her eyes betrayed surprise at the amount of damage caused by the explosion, but obviously to her; it could have been worse.
"Quite a mess, isn't it?" The Risian asked her visitor.
"You sure know how to throw a party." Starr said sarcastically. "Next time you should invite me. Unless your getting tired of your bunkie already. It's gonna take forever to clean this stuff up!" She added, changing her tone from non-chalant to overwhelmed in 2.5 seconds. "You know nobody likes to come just for the clean-up!" She waved her finger accusingly.
"Well, at least the 'all-important' medical gear is mostly intact. Only a few items will need to be replaced or repaired. I don't even know if that's possible." She shook her head in befuddlement. "Still, we got lucky."
The engineer moved through the mess and looked over the ruptured conduit, her broad form causing Roquel to dodge into the pile of debris to get out of the way. Seeing that Roquel was in no mood for her humor she got right down to business. The location of the gash surprised her. "Hmm, this is an abnormal way for this to happen. "You see...," she waved Roquel over to observe her investigation. "...if a conduit is going to burst naturally its going to do so at a seam or a bend. This is right smack dab in the middle of it, nowhere near the seam or anyplace the plasma might build a pressure head. "I'm thinking maybe this isn't due to weakness in the pipe."
"Yeah, I was wondering about that too." Roquel confessed. "It seems that maybe the combination of the plasma conduit rupture and the door/ comm malfunction is a little too coincidental. Maybe we should scan for anything.....unusual."
Starr hadn't heard about that. "What! There were other problems, too?! O.K., let's take those scans." She pulled out her tricorder and began scanning the area using several different search modes. Stress was not indicated due to internal pressures. What she did find was proof of her the theory.
Roquel was mystified by the discovery. "What the hell is that?!" She came closer to inspect the tricorder reading. "I'm not a science major, but it looks to me to be some sort of residue from a corrosive substance. What do you think this is all about?" She asked quizically.
Starr handed over the tricorder, so Roquel could have a closer look and to free up her hands. She gestured to the image they'd been looking at, a chemical analysis of a compound on the outside of the conduit. "This is Altritic Acid. Someone must have been in here an hour or two before the explosion and brushed it onto the conduit. It would have taken that long to eat through the duranium. Not only that, whoever did this would have been long gone, and with a sufficient alibi for the time of the event. But, the work here is sloppy. This much acid wouldn't have been necessary." She looked at Roquel to make sure she understood everything she was saying to her. Roquel was nodding affirmative. "We'll get the rupture repaired soon, but in the meantime I need to get this information to Thedaius. See you later." Starr turned quickly and headed back to engineering.
Roquel was left wondering WHO would want to sabotage this mission and to what purpose. She was a little uneasy now just being here. However, this was her chosen domain and she had work to do.
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Location: Dreamscape
Diana discovered that the further she drifted away from her body, the weaker her body grew. Fr. Dom maintained a vigil by her bedside, and would occasionally talk with Louis’ mother. She and Louis hovered over them like children with nothing to do, and no toys to play with.
“Hello. Can anybody hear me?” a feminine voice called from the darkness.
Diana looked up to see a Borg headed toward them, and quickly stood between the Borg and the boy. “What do you want?” she challenged.
“Diana? Is that you?” the Borg asked.
“Who are you?” Diana asked.
“Don’t you remember me?” the Borg asked as it stepped closer.
Diana thought she recognized the voice; she looked closer, and asked, “Stacy? Is that you?”
“Yeah,” the female Borg replied. “Can you believe it?” The Borg crossed her arms and sighed. “Diana, I had everything I ever wanted. Chris and I got married, I was pregnant with twins, I loved my work aboard the Cromwell, and then, and then …”
“Borg?” Louis suggested hopefully.
“Borg!” Stacy agreed. “It was painful, but quick. At first, I worried about the babies, and then I didn’t think for myself anymore. Marines had to blow my brains out, to keep me from helping the Collective take over the ship.” Looking to Diana, she hesitantly asked, “Is it really ugly? I tried to cover it up with my hair, but …”
Diana walked behind her old friend. There was a gaping hole in the woman’s skull; blood and gore had dried on the back of Stacy’s uniform. Walking back around to face her, Diana hugged her old friend, and reassured her. “From this angle, it’s hardly noticeable.”
Diana looked into the other woman’s eyes, and asked, “Why didn’t you follow the twins through the light tunnel. They’re innocents; closest to you by both blood and spirit. They should have helped you cross over.”
“I tried,” Stacy started to explain, “but they kept pulling them back into the real world. It felt like a C-section without anesthesia, and then I heard them cry. I was so happy--I wanted them to have happy childhoods, make a difference in the world, get married and have babies of their own. But, as they were given life, I realized that they’d been taken from me. My arms actually hurt because they felt so empty. I’ve been drifting ever since.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Diana told Stacy. “The portal is going to open again soon. We can go together.”
“How do you know?” Stacy asked.
“It’s because she’s going to die,” Louis said matter-of-factly. “I always know,” the boy informed Stacy.
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Location: The IKS Valkyre
“Did you have any trouble?” Reggie asked his brother-in-law, Kor’Nan.
“No, Sir,” he replied. “Between the custom paint job being scorched, and the station being unbelievably busy, I think we got lucky.”
“You’re kidding,” Reggie said.
“They had already heard about a Civil War in the Klingon capital, so I kept my mouth shut, and let them draw their own conclusions,” Kor’Nan told the XO.
“Well then,” Reggie said, as he rubbed his hands together briskly, and headed for his place in front of the view screen, “Raktajino break over. Everyone back to your stations.” Turning to his sister-in-law, and former Klingon Intel Officer, he asked, “What have we got, Kira?”
“There’s a Tellerite bartender who claims Diana was Lounge Manager aboard the Cromwell,” Kira began. (Max laughed so hard, he snotted bahgol, and had to wipe his face on the sleeve of his uniform.) “…a pregnant Human female, and another full-blooded Klingon male who wants to marry Diana. He says she’s on Chetzia, and turned this over to me,” Kira reported, handing over the plastic box.
“The Mistress of Oz?” Reggie asked.
“He says that was the only way he could get the contents past Security,” Kira said. “Inside is the Ta’rok hologram Diana designed, and a number of ship’s logs from the Cromwell.” She paused momentarily. “He says she was mistreated and attacked aboard the DFA flagship, and all my instincts tell me that he’s telling the truth.”
Reggie felt his jaw muscles tighten and his hands form into fists. “Helm, lay in a course for Chetzia,” he ordered. “Let’s get out of here before the Feds resolve whatever it is that’s keeping them busy, and find our ship on Starfleet’s list of stolen property.” Turning back to Kira, he said, “I want our ‘guests’ kept apart until we’ve had the chance to question all of them.”
“Aye, Aye, Sir,” she answered.
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Location: Hospital on Chetzia
Max and Kira were dressed in civilian clothes when they teleported to the planet surface. He squeezed her hand as they entered the hospital building, and walked over to the reception desk. Initially, the matron was not particularly helpful. They first had to establish that they were, indeed, related to the patient, and not some sort of deviants with that kind of time on their hands. The prim woman behind the desk smelled of flowers and cleanser. She regarded them as if people were always trying to sneak into ‘her’ hospital for nefarious reasons, and they fit the profile for ‘people up to no good.’ Her disposition softened, however, once she had finally found where Diana Hunter was located--the West Wing. Someone, a long time ago, had determined that the terminally ill should enjoy a few remaining sunsets.
----------
Fr. Dominic had his bible open to John 11:4. “But when Jesus heard it, He said, ‘This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified by it.’” The priest rubbed his eyes--they felt dry and hot. The words on the page were beginning to blur.
Diana had fought for every breath, but it wasn’t enough. She’d taken a turn for the worse recently, and was not expected to make it through the night.
He was exhausted. He’d stayed by her side for two and a half months. That was two months longer than the doctors aboard the Cromwell predicted. Diana wanted to live, he was sure of it. So, where was her miracle? Wouldn’t a modern-day Lazarus glorify God in a day and age when men worship money, pleasure and their own selves?
“Dear God: I don’t mean to test You, and I owe You more than I can ever repay; but I don’t ask You for things very often, and this is not for myself--Please make her well again. Let everyone be amazed by Your grace. Let everyone know that You hear and answer prayer; that You perform miracles. But, if this is not part of Your plan for the universe, admit her into heaven quickly. Amen.”
The lines on the monitor went flat, and a tone sounded. A woman’s voice came over the intercom, “West Wing, Code Blue. I repeat, West Wing, Code Blue.” A team of doctors and nurses pushing a crash cart in front of them entered the room. They went through the motions of trying to revive her, but no one expected much--she was too weak. One of the nurses pushed the Dominican priest aside, “Sorry Father, but you have to leave.”
---------
It was like watching a movie. Her life went by very fast. She tried to focus, and hold on to the moments that meant the most to her. She couldn’t shut out all the bad memories--they made her what she was.
Diana remembered throwing snowballs at her older brothers, Rex and Eric. She remembered the first time she met her Klingon brother. He needed help. Grownups were supposed to help, but being grownup is not the same as being good, she discovered. Diana was much more cautious after that, and as a result became more self-sufficient.
She remembered that her mother was beautiful…beautiful and kind. Her mother believed that there was good in everyone, and would rather trust other people than change who she was. She was peaceful and generous until the day she died; but she died to soon. Diana learned that you have to be ready to defend yourself and your family.
She remembered Klingon rituals and dance recitals, weddings and funerals, being scared and being happy. She remembered laughter, hugs, sex and chocolate. The story of her life was picking up speed, racing to it’s inevitable conclusion. She remembered star systems and rainbows, friends and family, swimming and running barefoot. And then, she remembered Lee. She willed the story of her life to stop. Heaven or Hell, she wanted to remember his face, the sound of his voice, they way his lips felt on hers. She wanted to hold on to her memories of him forever.
---------
It felt like an invisible hand had reached inside his chest, and squeezed his heart between its ice cold fingers. Max heard the announcement over the intercom, and somehow knew it was for Diana. He started running after the emergency team. It was as if time had been suspended. He was racing down the hallway, but he saw everything in slow motion. [No, No, No!] he thought. The possibility of actually losing his sister had never seemed quite real to her little brother. Now, it seemed too real.
He skidded to a stop in front of the large double doors, and pushed past the orderly trying to stop him. Diana still had traces of blood around her nose, and she had two black eyes. Her skin had a yellow pallor. She was hooked up to machines to help her breathe, and do some of the work her kidneys couldn’t do anymore.
Max was shaking his head. He reached for his comm link. His voice was raspy; he thought he was asking for help, but all Reggie heard was Max repeating the word ‘No’ over and over again. Kira and a priest were trying to pull him away from Diana’s bed. Tears were running down his face, and if Kira had tear ducts, she would have been crying too. She held Max, and began the low, mournful Klingon death yell. But, it wasn’t picked being up by the Valkyre’s crew.
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Location: Afterlife
A tunnel of white, radiant light opened, and Diana turned to Louis, “Don’t you want to come with us?”
Louis looked over to his mother. “I know she’s bad. I know she caused the accident that killed my papa, and put me here,” he said simply, “But, she needs this. She kept hurting me, so that she could be the center of attention. She acts like she’s the only one who has ever been sad, like she owns sadness. If I go with you, she’ll hurt someone else.”
Diana was touched by the boy’s reasoning and nobility, but there was no time to argue. She hugged him, and whispered in his ear, “When you are ready; your papa is waiting for you. He loves you very much.”
The light was so bright that it was impossible to look directly into the tunnel. Curiosity and desire pulled them in closer. There was music like tens of thousands of voices in perfect harmony. A feeling of complete joy overwhelmed Stacy. She felt vaguely guilty over some of the poor choices she’d made in her life, and then she felt forgiven and accepted. She turned to Diana, and asked, “What is this?”
“Love,” Diana replied simply. “You have entered the presence of God, and God is love. There is nothing more wonderful than to be near Him. There is no punishment more severe than to be cast out.” Diana watched the transition, as Stacy’s soul turned into a being of pure light and energy. Stacy was ready for Heaven. Diana, however, remained unchanged.
“How do you know all this?” Stacy wanted to know.
“I’ve been here before,” Diana answered.
----------------------------------------------------
NOTES:
There are many religions. Most of them believe that the soul lives forever. Many believe that a constant battle between good and evil takes place within our hearts, the world at large, and the invisible world all around us. These religions usually believe that a final cataclysmic clash between these forces is inevitable. On that day, a trumpet will sound, and the souls of good men will march in God’s holy army against demons, destroying chaos, and making a new universe possible. The earth is the first training ground for the faithful. Those individuals that fought to protect others, are held to a different standard. Because God cannot look upon sin, it is the Valkrie who are charged with looking upon the battlefield. Once experienced warriors themselves, they carry out God’s orders and deliver His messages. They can turn the tide of battle by rallying the morale of a single soldier, or an entire army. But, their primary task is to wade through the dead and the dying, searching for something decent in the midst of carnage. You can train men to fight and to kill, but morality is a choice. Valkrie are empathic, and mortals cannot hide their true nature from them. Those who are worthy to fill the ranks of the heavenly host in the last days, of the last battle between chaos and order, are sent here to train. The fight all day long. The dead and wounded are miraculously healed, and they feast and drink like brothers throughout the night. This is Valhalla, the afterlife of Diana’s earliest ancestors, and these were the ‘saints’ of her Christian heritage. There are warriors from every time and every planet. The Klingons call this place Sto’Vo-Kor.
----------------------------------------------------
Locations: Hospital on Chetzia, and Valhalla’s main courtyard
Diana stood before the gates she could not enter, and watched her friend go in. Hands on hips, she exhaled, and prepared for her trial. This was as close to Heaven that she would ever be allowed to come, so she lingered there awhile before heading for the Hall of the Slain.
Diana turned around to find her horse. She went over to the winged mount, and stroked it’s soft nose. The white horse had no saddle, helmet or sword--those had to be earned. There was no point in waiting, sending her horse was as good as a summons. They were under no obligation to grant her a hearing, and if she delayed, guilt was implied. The horse knelt, so that she could throw one leg over. She stroked its mane, leaned down, and said, “I’ll try not to pull your hair, if you’ll make a real effort not to drop me.” The horse threw its head back, whinnied and pawed at the ground. “Alright, let’s go,” she said. The horse needed a running start, leapt into the air, and glided on the wind currents.
After awhile, she touched down on a cliff, opposite a great giant. The giant was prepared to repel all invaders, and carried a horn on his belt. It was his duty to watch the horizon, and sound the alarm for the final battle. Diana chose this spot, so that she could look the Guardian of the Sacred Gates in the eyes. She bowed respectfully, and said, “Honorable Heimdall, may I pass?”
The giant smiled warmly, saying, “Ah, little one. I didn’t think you’d return so quickly.” He winked, tipped his head toward the gate, and said, “They’re expecting you.”
“Thank you, friend,” she replied, as the steed leapt off the cliff, then flapped it’s great wings, rising up to the clouds like an eagle. Far down below them, were green plains, rocky hilltops, and a wall taller and wider than the Great Wall of China. There was room enough on top for 10 chariots to ride alongside. It‘s length was infinite, and the only gate was called ‘Valgrind.’ Beyond it were 540 holy doors--each door so wide that 800 warriors could march through side-by-side. There is always enough room for the chosen, but only a few know how to unlock these doors.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Chetzia, Hospital
Klag and two other Klingons materialized on the opposite side of Diana’s hospital room, and immediately drew phasers. Klag took out the security camera, and the three of them advanced on the doctor and two nurses. One of the Klingons smiled broadly at Louis’ mother as they passed, and she fainted.
Holding the weapon to the doctor’s head, Klag pointed to Diana’s lifeless form, and ordered the woman to, “Make her better.”
“But she’s flat-lined! We were just about to call it,” Tea’nara said.
Klag pushed a button, so she could hear the weapon charging.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Tea said calmly, as she turned back to the patient. Looking at the two civilian nurses, Tea’nara told one to get the cardio stimulator ready, and the other should prepare a hypospray with equal amounts of cordrazine and inprovaline.
Klag backed off a bit to let the woman work. “We’re going to need Borg nano-probes to save her. She has an illness that prevents her from getting better, but can be cured at a cellular level.”
“Those are rare, and very expensive,” Tea’nara started to say. “I don’t think we have any…”
Klag was having trouble controlling his temper. With all his heart, he wanted beat the truth out of this Starfleet woman. “The Cromwell was up to its ass in Borg a few days ago, and you expect me to believe that you didn’t save any of the nano-probes for research?”
“I’m not DFA,” Tea shouted back. “They don’t tell me everything, in fact, they tell me as little as possible.”
It vaguely occurred to Klag to wonder what a Starfleet doctor was doing in a civilian hospital deep in DFA space, but the answer would have been either lengthy or involve the word ‘symposium’ so he didn’t ask. Explanations gave him a headache. He wanted results.
“I know where some are,” one of the nurses said. Klag turned to Kira. She nodded, took off her coat, and folding it over her arm, concealed a phaser there. “Let’s go,” she told the young girl.
The male nurse had the paddles in his hands, and indicated to Tea’nara that he was ready. It was like push starting a car. They had to shock her, inject her, shock her and perform CPR, until her heart beat of its own accord.
Tea’nara picked up the hypospray, and nodded to the nurse. [Here goes nothing.]
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Afterlife, Valhalla’s main courtyard
Diana touched down on the grass, and handed the horse over to one of the Valkrie, an Andorian. There were women from almost every warrior race there, including Katarian, Romulan, and Xindi. She wondered briefly what Wagner would have done differently, had he known Brynhildr was actually a Klingon.
“Diana Hunter Valkyre To’var,” the woman’s voice reverberated throughout the small, outdoor amphitheater. “Do you recall the agreement you entered into?” She paused, then added, “An agreement made of your own freewill, and with these your sisters--the immortal Valkrie?” Freyja indicated the women around her throne, and sitting on stone benches, with a sweep of her elegant hand.
“I do,” Diana answered.
Freyja was not God, but charged by God, with the selection and training of the Valkrie, as well as maintaining order among their ranks. Apparently, as vexing as men find women to be in life, warrior women present challenges even God finds daunting. Some cultures revere Freyja for her intelligence, and as the goddess of both love and war. She has the ability to settle disputes quickly and fairly. The Valkrie are devoted to her.
There are two ivy-covered Ionic pillars on either side of Freyja’s massive throne. The stone floor between the stone benches has been worn smooth with thousands of years of exercise, sports, fighting and dancing. The Valkrie wear sparkling silver-colored armor that capture moonbeams and sunrays to reflect lights of vibrant green, gold and blue in the Northern skies. They all have gold wings pinned below their left shoulder. The wings are their standard, the banner men rally to, and the sign dying men look for--it is the symbol of excellence.
“We have watched your life with great interest, Diana,” Freyja said. “In many ways, you exceeded our expectations. Tell me, what did you learn?”
“I learned that if you have a million good people going about their business, and a thousand wicked men with guns, then within one week’s time, the men with guns will own the land and rule the people by force,” Diana answered. “Within any society there must be individuals willing to fight, and possibly die, to defend their friends and neighbors. We are commanded not to kill, but we cannot be free unless someone fights to protect the others. A warrior’s life is difficult, lonely and often misunderstood. To choose this life, is to push yourself to your physical and emotional limits every day and call it training. It means following orders instead of doing what you want. It puts you in danger, and it requires you to kill. God has trouble hearing prayers over the sound of commandments breaking, but in His mercy, created the Valkrie to rescue noble souls and build His army.”
“I know why we exist, Diana,” Freyja said patiently. “What I want to know is, what have you learned about warriors that will help you discern the worthy among the dying?”
Diana considered the question carefully. She had lived among Klingons, worked for Starfleet, and the last part of her life was spent on the DFA’s flagship. What was consistent about all warriors, regardless of where they came from?
Diana stood up straight, and looked Freyja in the eyes. “It is possible for a man to be both a hero and a villain. The man who jumps into a freezing river to save a child, may be arrested the next week for indecent exposure. Having a duel nature, most people are as good as the people around them. Soldiers, however, are compelled to leave the decent and gentle folk they grew up with; and live in conditions of sorrow, hatred, shame and paranoia. They risk succumbing to the level of their enemy. They risk losing themselves to the dark. A worthy soul is not only a fierce combatant, but someone who has tried to follow a personal code of conduct, and more often than not, they have done the right thing.”
Freyja looked around at the faces of other Valkrie, and saw that some of them were nodding. “In a warrior’s code of honor, what two things are unforgivable?” she asked.
Diana answered confidently, “Cowardice is the sin that keeps on giving. It is terrible to contemplate, terrible to commit, and terrible to live with. The other trait that immediately exempts a warrior’s soul from joining the Einherjar is cruelty. To delight in wickedness and the pain of others is evil, and there is no hope for that person.”
“I know that you recognize greatness,” Freyja said. “You were the daughter of Grant Armstrong Hunter, the wife of Ta’rok To’var, the consort of MacArthur Lee, and you were in the presence of Ken Warner.”
Diana stiffened at the mention of Warner’s name, but remained silent.
“Warner deserves to be among the Einherjar,” Freyja said. “He’s strong, skilled, brilliant in battle and basically good. Would you be able to carry his soul to heaven?”
Diana couldn’t honestly answer the question. She knew Freyja was right, and she certainly wouldn’t leave Warner behind, but she’d rather one of her sisters escort Warner to Valhalla. While it wasn’t that uncommon for a military man to pick out one person within a unit to vent frustration and anger on; this time it had been her, and she was not only defenseless at the time, but had only a little time left. The injustice still hurt. Their captain’s indifference still felt like betrayal. According to the bargain she’d made with the Valkrie years ago, Diana had to be able to do this, or go to Hel. She couldn’t say ‘yes’ and she couldn’t lie. So, facing the outcome with as much dignity as she could, Diana answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Chetzia, Hospital
“Come on, Come on!” Tea’nara half shouted at the body in front of her, but it was futile. The girl was dead.
The male nurse was sweating, as Klag looked at him dispassionately. You didn’t have to be telepathic to know that he meant what he said. If this patient died, he’d kill them all.
Tea tried to establish a neurolink with the young woman, but her mind as well as her heart had stopped. The counselor specialized in family therapy, but spent most of her time in surgery. That’s Starfleet for you. Since graduating from the medical Academy, her clients were unusual to say the least--and the most well-adjusted one of the bunch was a Borg with a split personality.
The male nurse performed the heart massage, and every fifth beat, Tea used mouth-to-mouth. She looked up at the clock; almost 4 minutes had passed. If she didn’t respond soon, she wasn’t going to respond at all.
“Another dose of cordazine!” she ordered. This time she administered it directly to the woman’s heart, and after another shock from the defibrillator, they got a weak heartbeat. The male nurse sighed, but Tea knew that they’d have to nurture that feeble heartbeat or it would go out.
Kira came in with the young female nurse. They were carrying vials of nano-probes and equipment for nano-surgery. Tea didn’t have time to do this right. She had to work fast. Instead of splicing genes, or slow drip, she used a laser scalpel and injected the probes directly into the girl’s most damaged organs, and the glands responsible for growth and healing.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Afterlife, Valhalla’s main court
A hush fell over the arena. Diana was ineligible to join their ranks, by her own admission. According to the pact she made as a young girl, that she be returned to life in order to save her friends, and in exchange devote the rest of her life to becoming a warrior. That the strength and powers of a Valkrie would be hers to use when helping those in need, and in the pursuit of peace, fairness and a decent standard of living for the people under her care. She, in turn, was never to harm a defenseless person, use her abilities for vengeance, or to behave in such a way that her sisters would be ashamed of her. One of the lowest rings of Hel is reserved for oath breakers. Diana had left Freyja no choice, except to send her there.
Freyja looked across the courtyard. Diana had accomplished more in the last ten years of her life, than most people do in ten lifetimes. She wasn’t perfect, by any means. That incident with the so-called “love potion” made Diana untrue to herself, as well as her lover. Even more disturbing was the time Capt. Ka’vek ordered her to prove her loyalty to the Empire. Freyja knew the girl still had nightmares over that, and she should--the Valkrie are not executioners. But, that was one of the reasons why she and Lee found comfort in one another. Freyja sighed, Lee was not doing very well without her.
“I’ve been watching Warner’s adventures with great interest,” Freyja said. “Since you left, his deeds shine as brightly as the stars in winter.”
Diana managed a smile, “Following that man’s career is like trying to read Shakespeare by flashes of lightening. His strategy is inspired and he moves through the enemy like an irresistible force. As a warrior, he is both beautiful and horrifying to watch. I find no fault with him as a warrior, and I obeyed every order he ever gave me, even when they were intended to break me.”
One of the Valkrie came forward and stood beside Diana. “Your majesty.”
“The throne recognizes Joan d’Arc,” Freyja said. “What do you have to say in this matter?”
The petite woman, with short cropped hair, stood between Freyja and Diana, and said, “As the girl’s patron, I feel that it is my duty to point out that while Warner’s record, both before and after Diana, are exemplary, his actions aboard the Cromwell at the time she was there, were egotistical, short-sighted and prejudicial. The only thing Diana ever did, was catch him making an ass of himself, and he used his rank to humiliate and bully her. Isn’t that cruelty?”
A Klingon woman stepped out from the stone benches, and walked over to where St. Joan was standing. She winked at Diana as she passed. “A word, your grace.”
“Will you be speaking on behalf of all the Klingon warriors, Brynhildr?” Freyja asked.
“I have only a personal observation today,” the Klingon woman replied. Freyja nodded, and Brynhildr continued. “Personally, I often wonder, if this child is worthy to be called Klingon, let alone, join the ranks of the Valkrie, but I agree with my sister. Warner’s behavior, at the time Diana knew him, was not worthy of the Einherjar. He made many racist remarks about my people. Fear of another people being stronger than you are, or smarter than you are, is still an irrational fear of losing before a battle has even been fought. He made inflammatory remarks in the presence of impressionable people. As a leader, he must have known the outcome--men under his command attacked a dying girl. If that isn’t cowardice, what is?”
Freyja sat back on her throne, and holding her chin between her thumb and index finger, began to think.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Afterlife, Valhalla’s main court
Freyja had come to a decision. “Diana,” she said. “The God that created and sustains the universe can not look on sin. It does not matter if the sin is yours, or someone else’s. When you refuse to forgive, you are holding on to sin. You cannot take your place here until you do.”
Diana pursed her lips, and nodded her head. She understood, and was prepared to accept the consequences.
“However,” Freyja continued, “there is some merit to what your sisters say. It is, therefore, my decree that your will not become a Valkrie until you can carry Warner from the battlefield to Valhalla, and Warner cannot die until you’re capable of becoming a Valkrie.”
Diana was amazed at Freyja’s decision. She was getting a second chance. The background started to swirl like it was caught up in a cyclone, and then Diana fell through the bottom of the floor. It felt like she’d been falling forever, when she landed with a start.
Even though she was happy to get a second chance, the one odd thought that struck her--before she forgot everything--was that completing her assignment was going to take a very long time.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Sickbay (Valkyre)
Diana awoke with a start. The lights were dim, red, Klingon. Someone was moving behind her, but it hurt too much to get into a defensive position. “Who’s there?” her voice sounded raspy, even to her.
“It’s just me,” Candy said. “I made you some tea with honey and lemon. I thought it might make your throat feel better.”
Diana was able to sit up, with a little help from Candy, and take a sip of tea. “I don’t want to seem rude, or anything, but I thought you were only a few months pregnant?”
Candy patted her very pregnant stomach. “Don’t worry,” she assured Diana, “I’m alright. But, you’ve been out of it for awhile. Is there anything you’d like to know?”
“Where’s Lee?” Diana asked.
----------------------------------------------------
Classified Transmission
from Chetzia General Hospital
to Admiral Dan Forrest, Devu Government
The patient you sent us has been abducted.
A number of Klingons stormed the wing she was resting in.
They managed to get away with a large supply of Borg nano-probes. These have many medical applications, and it is a devastating loss to our hospital. The nano-probes may have been the Klingons’ objective from the start.
The young woman and her priest companion were teleported out of our facility. We have not been able to locate them, and they have not contacted us. The patient is almost certainly dead, as a crash team had been dispatched to her room only moments before.
I regret to be the one to give you this sorrowful news. In the future, if you need to send someone to our hospital; medical records, family contacts, and whether or not we need additional security to repel Klingon invaders, would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
C. Brown
Administrator
----------------------------------------------------
Location: Axel Mess Hall
Timeline: 2 days after the explosion in Cargo Bay 5 & Before Arrival at Cretanus
Two days. It had been two days since the catastrophe in Cargo Bay 5. The Seiklon Axel had proceeded on towards it's destination, almost as if nothing had ever happened, Zoss had started running the entire Blackskulls unit through rigorous training exercises, and quietly an investigation into WHO had been responsible for the act had started. For Pleg, this was the worst possible scenario of events imaginable.
He had anticipated the fire to eliminate the medical equipment that was vital to this mission. The Altritic Acid was supposed to have been completely consumed by the fire. The Axel was supposed to have been forced to stand down or at least post-pone it's mission, until.... But, none of that happened. Now, Pleg had to be vigilant. His only hope was that the Axel would get to the Cretanus System before his duplicitous act was discovered.
Pleg had no intention of going on this mission! He'd managed his escape from Ferenginar before being killed only because he'd agreed to sign on with this S.A.I. unit. He'd signed a contract; he was bound.
His honor as a Ferengi meant he must honor it (or appear to honor it). The 17th Rule of Acquisition stated: "A contract is a contract is a contract ... but only between Ferengi." The 284th Rule stated: "Deep down every-one's a Ferengi." This paradox left him with but one choice - Cheat his way out! So here he was between a rock and a hard-case, maybe two....Korav & Zoss.
He was concerned over the investigation. Who was conducting it? What if anything did they have to link the Altritic Acid to him. It was time for another set of ears. Pleg walked into the mess hall looking for Phemeril. The portly Ferengi, master of this domain - such as it was, was doing a restock of the concession refrigerator. 'What a waste of Ferengi genetic code!' Pleg thought to himself. He cautioned himself not to underestimate this man, just in case.
"Greetings, Phemeril. How goes the store?" Pleg started amiably.
Phemeril turned and met eyes with Pleg, "Hallo. Did you need to buy anything tonight." A glimmer of profit in his eyes. "Special discount prices for natives of my homeworld!" A smile, all teeth and freeze dried tube grubs, crossing his face.
"Not tonight." Pleg countered. "I have a much better offer for you. One with REAL profit potential." He conspiratorially leaned across the counter, making a small wave of his hand to draw Phemeril in.
"Oh......?" Phemeril leaned in. Both Ferengi cast wary glances to make sure they were alone. "Do tell."
"I'm looking for information on the explosion in cargo bay 5. I need to know what's going on in the investigation they're doing." Carefully, Pleg fabricated his reasoning. "I think I know who's behind it; but I don't have enough proof to go to Zoss yet. I'm concerned that the person responsible may attempt to shift blame to someone else." His expression becoming grim, "Maybe, even me!" Pleg poked Phemeril in the chest lightly. "You, my friend are in a position to help me. You are the mess cook. Similar to a bartender, at some point everyone tells you trivia you really don't care about; or, they treat you like you're not even there when they are talking to someone else. Am i right?"
Phemeril was suspicious, intrigued, and finally bothered by the demeaning assumption Pleg was making here. "Maybe. What do you want?"
Pleg plucked 3 slips of latinum from an inner pouch at his waistband. "This is for you, if you get me something I can use. If I can get some information that I can give Zoss before it is revealed, then I may be able to profit a little myself - status wise. And, it will keep me out of trouble if the bastard behind this does attempt to frame me." He wondered if he could sweeten the deal for a moment. "Take the first one, now.
Three MORE when you get me something...significant."
Phemeril snatched the slip before Pleg could even blink and bit it to test it's value. "It's a deal." He said, as he placed his new wealth in his pocket. "I'll keep my ears open." Then, he winked.
If the investigation was getting close, this might be just the ally that Pleg needed. But, could HE be trusted.
----------------------------------------------------
Location: IKS Valkyre
Diana was up the next morning, and able to get into the uniform Kira had laid out for her. Her chest and abdomen were still sore from the improvised surgery. When she found out that Lee wasn’t on board, he wasn’t part of the rescue, and he hadn’t even visited her; she felt like she’d been stabbed directly in the heart. She couldn’t cry; not now, not on her ship, not with so many warriors aboard—men who already wanted to head her house, captain her ship and control her assets. There could be no sign of weakness in front of them.
She had rolled over on the bio-bed, buried her face in a pillow, and forced back the tears. Her eyes burned, and her throat was raw, but eventually, the rage subsided. It was the feeling of betrayal that wouldn’t let go. She felt used. She felt lied to. She felt angry all over again. With every snap, tie, and tug of her uniform, she changed. The Diana who laughed, and played dress-up with Dejah was gone. The Diana who loved match-making, carnivals, baking cookies and dancing was no more. Enter Diana who didn’t care whether she lived or died, and was calm as hell about it. She looked in the mirror.
She wasn’t happy with her reflection. She poured cold water out on to a towel, and held it over her to bring down the red, puffy areas around her eyes and cheeks. Checking in the mirror once more, Diana decided it was time she looked more Klingon, and she began to braid her hair.
Taking six strands of hair by her left ear, she began braiding them into two spirit braids. She fastened her Joan d’Arc medal to the end of one, and an arrowhead that reminded her of her great-great-great-great-grandfather to the end of the other. She took three more strands of hair from over her forehead, and leaning over, turned them into one very long braid. She gathered the rest of her hair back into a ponytail. She pulled the long braid back, and starting under the rubber band, wound it around several times, then tucked the end through the rubber band itself. When she was done, she looked in the mirror once more. Looking back at her was someone she knew, but didn’t like.
Reggie looked back at the sound of the bridge door swooshing to one side. “Captain on the bridge!” Everyone stood, or stepped back from their consoles, as she entered. Diana paused at the top step, nodded, and said, “As you were.” She walked down, in front, and was about to sit down. She looked up at her bridge officers one by one, and every one of them shook their head, ‘No.’ It had been almost nine months, but no one had sat in the Captain’s chair.
She turned around, and with her back to the crew, sat down, preparing to command and lead them. The seat had conformed to its previous owner’s bottom, so Diana had never been truly comfortable here. That captain had gone down with his ship, and bits of his finger bones were still imbedded in the armrests. Diana ran her fingers over them now, stroking them like a cat. She could almost hear him say, “A Klingon captain is never comfortable. His back is to the men he disciplines. He has to earn their respect, and their devotion. It is a balance between pushing them to be their best as a group, and addressing individual concerns. Command is about mission accomplishment and your crew. It’s about responsibility—not power or recognition. If this job were meant to be fun, we have recliners. An uncomfortable chair is a constant reminder that we should stay alert, and never take anything for granted.”
This ship had once been the IKS Havoc. Diana had given the ship a new name and a custom paint job, when she salvaged it. Looking out the view screen, she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Even more suspicious, the usual banter she allowed on the bridge was missing; in other words, this crew was way too quiet. “Kira, set a course for Quo’Nos. It’s time to go home.”
“Aye, Aye, Captain,” Kira replied.
There is was again. Diana was sure there was something ‘different’ about her ship. “Reggie, I want a status report on all systems,” she said. “Max, bring up sensor and security information on the ship’s hull, especially the starboard side.”
Reggie and Max exchanged looks, and complied, “Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.
Diana was looking over information on the ship’s recent overhaul, and comparing it with the information Reggie was now giving her on what was left of warp drive, weapons and shields. She glanced up at the view screen, and her heart nearly stopped. Only the left wing of the Valkrie’s horse wasn’t scorched alongside the bottom of the ship.
Diana took a deep breath, released it slowly, and asked calmly, “Reggie, are we at war with anyone?”
Reggie looked at his brother, Max, who put up his hands, in a ‘Don’t bring me into this kind of way.’ It had been his call, but he was certain that Diana would have done the same thing. “Not anymore,” he answered.
Diana sighed, bowed her head and began to rub her temples. “Did we win?” she asked.
[A short time later…]
Diana felt tired again. So much had happened since she’d been attacked. She felt the weight of responsibility once more, but didn’t have enough information to make all the right choices. “It seems the Valkyre was in very capable hands, and my time would be better spent catching up on everything that happened while I was in the hospital,” Diana said, fully intending to let Kira fly the ship while Reggie briefed her on current events.
She stood up, and turned around, gripping the back of the chair for support, as she did so. Addressing the bridge crew, she said, “I could not be more proud of you. You fought well. If I could give you the honor you deserve, I would. As it is, I shall write General D’k tang and recommend that you all receive medals.”
“Yeah…about that,” Reggie started to explain.
----------
After a full day of making repairs, catching up and watching the news, Diana was ready to relax with friends. It was close quarters—the ship was designed to carry 24 warriors, and they were now over capacity by a priest, a Tellerite, a pregnant woman and Klag. Klag had saved her. Lee never showed up. Klag never gave up on her, he held a phaser to a Starfleet doctor’s head and compelled that woman to save her life. Lee didn’t. Diana took another sip of her drink.
There were too many things that brought back memories of Lee, and every time she thought about him it hurt. He didn’t visit her, he wasn’t here, and he wasn’t coming. Diana tried to push thoughts of him aside, but they kept coming back. If Lee were here, if he had had been the one to save her; she would have walked away from the ship, the house and all her money to be by his side. Was it all a lie—something said to get her into bed with him, or was what they had merely convenient? Was he already in the Lounge drinking with Warner, swapping stories and making passes at someone else? Her stomach felt as tight as a fist, her eyes burned, and her heart ached like it was bruised. She took a deep breath, and tried to think of something else.
Diana tried to smile. It seemed like everyone was talking at once. She still couldn’t believe Reggie had actually met Gen. Mekh’Tar. Kira and Kornan led assault teams that made it possible for Korav’s people to blow a hole in the largest ship ever constructed. She took another sip from the glass in front of her. She felt a little woozy, and vaguely wondered why her glass always seemed full. Turning to Reggie, she said, “Slo, you were really on the Khit…Khit-toe…Khit-toe-mere?”
A look of concern crossed Reggie’s face. “Diana, you haven’t been drinking have you?”
“Lust a little lit,” Diana told him. “Grape...,” she covered her mouth and burped delicately. “Grape juice,” she wrinkled her nose, and took another sip. “It tastes a little funny, but you get used to it.”
“Diana, honey,” Candy said, “Do you feel alright.”
Diana nodded her head in an exaggerated, childlike way, “Lump, I feel lime.”
“Okay, someone’s had enough,” Kira said.
“I didn’t think she was supposed to drink at all,” Candy said.
“She’s not,” Max whispered, “But, only house members know that. It only takes a sip of bloodwine to put her in the hospital, half a glass and she can die of alcohol poisoning.”
Diana stood up, began to sway, and grabbed the arm of the warrior nearest her. She steadied herself, patted the Klingon’s arm, and said, “You’re tall, …I like that.”
Diana was a cute drunk. Warriors began to laugh, boast, challenge one another and sing.. They’d been victorious in battle against impossible odds, then rescued the head of a respected house. The competition for Diana was a friendly one, and everyone began to relax.
“Let’s go back to Sickbay,” Candy suggested. “Can you walk?”
“Low problem,” Diana said, as she put one arm around Candy. “Here we glow,” she said, just before walking into the wall next to the door. “I’m all right!”
When they reached the infirmary, Kira asked Diana, “How do you feel, Captain?”
“Tired,” Diana sighed, as she lay back on the bed.
Candy grabbed a tri-corder, and started taking readings—everything came up normal, better than normal. She gave the diagnostic instrument to the ship’s Second Officer, but the results were the same.
Diana took Candy’s hand, and held it. “Do you think Lee was just being kind? Maybe he felt sorry for me.”
Diana was drifting off to sleep, “Maybe he said what he thought I wanted to hear.”
“Lee said he loved me, but he left me…he knew I was going to die, and he left me.” Diana took a deep breath. “Lee didn’t come see me, or try to save me,” she paused, “and the only reason I can think of, is because he doesn’t love me,… at least, not as much as I love him.”
Closing her eyes, Diana mumbled, “Betrayal hurts,…it hurts like being cut.”
Kira stood by the door with her arms crossed. Watching Candy’s every move, she said, “Anything you want to tell me?”
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