25 – ‘The Uncanny Valley’

Star Trek: Cayuga

25 – ‘The Uncanny Valley’

By Jack Elmlinger

“No, Sayvok. Just… no!” 

Aimee Maguire dropped her PADD on the table and glanced despairingly around her cabin. The cramped space was even tighter with a dozen people sharing them. “I understand that you want to express yourself, but the program is only two hours long. And I’m not using the industrial replicators to make you ‘acoustic steel drums’. This is supposed to be a low-tech performance.” 

“I simply wish to create an intersection of sound and — “

“You can make sound with two rocks. No drums are necessary,” the Chief Engineer interrupted him, picking up her PADD and looking down the list. “Now, th’Nerain… ‘Dance of Knives’?” 

“A form of dance that originated in the Rana House approximately six hundred years ago.” The Andorian thaan straightened up in his seat proudly. “My own daggers were dedicated to me by Dance Master sh’Emen.” 

“Knives,” Maguire repeated before sighing. “All right, just don’t kill anybody.” 

“I’ve never hurt anymore intentionally.” 

“I didn’t hear that. Next… Polcheny, you’re… get the hell off of my holo-album! And my bed!”

Polcheny looked up from the holographic picture album. “Who’s this guy?,” she asked her, pointing. 

“Put that down,” Aimee snapped at her. 

Alice frowned back at her. “And that guy? And those guys? And that girl? And those… whoa…” 

“Give me that,” Maguire yelled at the helm officer, snatching the album away from her. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Alice, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t root through my things, please.” 

“Sorry,” Alice whispered, sliding off the bed to sit down on the floor. 

Maguire sighed again. “Now, what’s this that I hear about you and the Captain doing a song by Lennon? Wasn’t he some twentieth-century dictator or something? Killed a lot of people?” 

Alice’s face became twisted in thought. “Maybe, but he wrote great songs!” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Gin-Sach and Gin-Sirt stood at the back of the Cayuga’s Mess Hall. they watched with one eye each. On the impromptu stage, Sayvok stood without moving at all. There was an awkward expression on his face. Beside him, there was a phonograph that blared out a happy tune: “We’re not worrying at all. We’re just waiting for his call!” 

Suddenly, the Vulcan came alive, throwing out his arms and lip-synching. “‘Here I come to save the day!’”

“I don’t understand,” Sean Pasko said. 

“I’ve given up trying,” Maguire replied before she stepped up onto the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause for Sayvok and his … and his performance!” 

At the abrupt clapping noise, the Pajahni looked around in surprise before they began mimicking the hand slapping motion. 

“Next up, we have Alice Polcheny, and Captain Pozach.” 

She slumped down into her chair next to Pasko as Polcheny and Pozach took to the stage. The captain gave the audience a slight bow before she sat down at the piano. The young helm officer followed suit and hopped her way into a curtsy. She glanced back at Jeanne and nodded before the captain’s lithe fingers began to move over the piano keys. 

“‘Imagine there’s no heaven,’” Polcheny began to sing. “‘It’s easy if you try…” 

Pasko watched her, his chest aching as her pure sophano described a world with nothing to kill or to die for. Maguire watched Pozach, smiling at the sight of her lips silently forming the words along with Polcheny. 

As if sensing her attention, Jeanne glanced up from the piano, trusting her fingers to hit the right keys. She looked at her crew and at the androids and the sentient tree that were enjoying the performance. For a moment, she didn’t feel like a dreamer for imagining that the world could live as one. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The planet grew slowly on the main viewscreen. It was a dirty ball of grays, browns, greens, but no clouds. 

“Is that your home world?,” Pozach asked, rising up from her command chair to peer over Pasko’s shoulder. 

From the back of the Bridge, Gin-Sach told her. “Hardly, Captain. Our home world was ruined, centuries ago, by internal strife. Now we live as nomads.” As the android spoke, a bizarre configuration of rectangles appeared in orbit. With hundreds of modules, each of them was large enough to house several Cayugas, and they were attached to scaffolding to form a ship. 

Pasko whistled at the sight. “That thing is huge.” He checked his sensors before pointing at the viewscreen. “It’s over seven hundred kilometers long.” 

“The Mothership is home to nearly all members of the Pajahni race,” Gin-Sach explained to them. He paused for a moment, his massive golden torso cocking over to one side. “The Cayuga is welcome to dock at the nearest module. Our people look forward to meeting you.” 

“It is certainly our pleasure.” Pozach tapped the pilot on his shoulder. “Mister Pasko, get us docked and meet me at the airlock. Mister Riker, you’re in command until I get back.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Despite the massive size of the Mothership, its interior was surprisingly small, given the large frames of the Pajahni. Captain Pozach, Lieutenant Pasko, Lieutenant Commander Maguire, and Crewman Leung followed Gin-Sach and Gin-Sirt down the twisting corridors of the ship. 

“Is it just me,” Pasko whispered to Leung,” or do all of the Pajahni look the same?” 

The Pajahni appeared to be just as fascinated with the Starfleet officers as the Starfleet officers were with them. Dozens of glowing red eyes watched them as they passed by them. 

“How do you manage to generate a warp bubble around something this big?,” Maguire asked, tapping on a girder. 

Gin-Sirt answered her. “Our vessels do not use warp drive. Instead, we have the ability to pierce the dimensional barrier and enter a realm in which the laws of physics are more convenient.” 

“That’s… incredible. I’d love to see your drive systems.” 

“In time,” Gin-Sach said. “We thought that, perhaps, you would first enjoy a retrospective of Pajahni history.” 

Aimee snorted at him. “Personally? No.” 

“We would be delighted,” Pozach said, shooting a glare at her chief engineer. 

“As you are a follower of the performing arts, I believe that you will appreciate this, Commander Maguire, despite your protest. Many years ago, we developed a style based on marionette puppets. This way.” 

The away team entered a large room. The floor dipped steeply away and it was lined with seats that were intended for the Pajahni’s back-canted legs. 

Leung squinted and asked,” Are those…”? 

On the stage were three Romulans. Thick cables rose from their skulls up into the darkness. Two of them faced off against a third, who was shouting,” And, who are you to stand against us?! We created you in our image that we might finally have an equal in this Galaxy!” 

“No, Father,” one of the other Romulans replied. “You do not believe it’s possible to have an equal. We know that we have no equal, either.” With their words said, the two Romulans fell on the third, and though the action was indistinct from the distance, in a moment there was enough green blood on stage to give away the general idea. 

“Gin-Sirt, this is abhorrent!,” Pozach spat out, turning around on her host. 

The Pajahni stared down at her. “The Romulans were offered a place in our society or death. They have made their choice.” 

“We can take them with us. They’ll never trouble you again.” 

“I imagine that they won’t.” Gin-Sach turned around. “Please follow me.” 

The Starfleet officers were shuffled uncertainly from the auditorium, trying to keep cultural relativism in mind. “As you know,” Gin-Sach continued with his monologue,” we reproduce sexually. However, we sometimes lack a certain… nurturing instinct. Assistance in this matter is often required.” 

The Pajahni ushered their guests into another room. This room was filled with waist-high vats of squirming gelatin. Jacqueline Yeager stood behind one of the cradles, her left hand submerged inside the gel.

“Yeager?,” Pasko asked, surprised. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

At the sound of his voice, Yeager looked up with a smile. She stepped around the cradle, revealing the thin, mechanical legs fused to her exposed pelvic bone. The high-pitched whirring of the servos was momentarily smothered by the sound of Maguire, vomiting in a nearby corner. 

“Shh,” she told them, the look of wonderment never leaving her eyes,” you’ll wake up the babies.” 

“My God,” breathed Pasko.

“What,” the captain asked, her eyes raking over the young ensign’s mutilated body,” have you done to her?” 

Gin-Sirt’s voice sounded pleased. “We have improved upon what nature has created. We needed a nursemaid so we took it upon ourselves to perfect Miss Yeager to serve in this task.” 

“Would you like to hold the baby?,” Yeager asked them. 

“You needed a babysitter… so you assimilated her?,” Maguire snarled, wiping the bile from her mouth with a sleeve. 

Gin-Sirt lashed out at her, crushing her up against the wall. “References to the Borg are both inaccurate and unappreciated. Assimilation strips the will from the subject,” the android explained, sharply, crouching over the dazed woman. Pozach interposed herself between them and hoisted the other woman to her feet. 

“Miss Yeager, would you care to show our guests your enhancements?,” Gin-Sach asked her. Delighted, the science officer from the Juneau turned her head to reveal the exposed brain and embedded circuitry on the left side of her head. “Thanks to our modifications, Miss Yeager, not only acts as a nursemaid, but it is simply the most enjoyable thing that she could ever conceive of doing. We are not cruel. Work should be rewarding.” 

“Pasko, grab Yeager,” Pozach ordered, pulling Maguire towards the door. “We’re leaving.” 

Several things seemed to happen at once. In a motion slow enough to seem almost thoughtless, Gin-Sach backhanded Crewman Leung. The blow shattered each of his ribs and pulverized his heart. Yeager’s hand closed around Pasko’s throat, cutting off his air supply. Gin-Sirt kicked Maguire, punting her across the room and into the corridor outside. 

“Naughty, naughty,” Yeager said, pleasantly, shoving Pasko through the doorway. He fell down in the corridor, struggling to stand as Gin-Sach and Gin-Sirt advanced on them. Clanging from both ends of the corridor heralded the approach of more Pajahni. 

Yeager forced Pozach into a tight hug. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll take care of you.” 

“Jeanne!,” Maguire screamed, trying to stagger back up to her feet, despite her injuries.

“Pasko to Cayuga! Get us out of here! Beam us out now!” 

The ranks of the Pajahni closed around them and the last that they saw of Jeanne Pozach was her horrified expression over the shoulder of Yeager’s embrace. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Power surges on the Mothership. It looks like weapons!,” th’Nerain reported. 

“I can’t get a lock on the Captain or Crewman Leung,” Mbanu said over the intercom from the transporter room. 

Tom Riker leaned forward in the command chair. “Get Pasko and Maguire. Polcheny, break us out of dock and get us the hell out of — “

A weapons blast rocked the ship. Its roar was quickly replaced by the wail of decompression alarms. “Hull breach,” th’Nerain reported,” on Deck Six!” 

“Polcheny, why are we still here?!,” Riker demanded to know. The rear doors to the Bridge opened and a beaten Maguire stumbled in, supported by Lieutenant Pasko. “What the hell did you people do over there?”

Maguire glared at the First Officer for a moment before she collapsed into the chair at the engineering station. “They’re hitting us with forced graviton packets. Our shields can’t block them.” 

The ship lurched again and Pasko was thrown against the helm. “Here,” he snapped at Ensign Polcheny,” let me do it.” 

“I’m busy,” she said through gritted teeth. 

The Cayuga turned her engines towards the Pajahni Mothership, scorching the massive vessel with its impulse exhaust. Graviton packets — warbles in the fabric of space — erupted from the Mothership, rupturing soundlessly against the hull before Polcheny pulled the ship out of the salvo. For a split second, she rocketed the ship to warp, skipping past the next fusilade before swinging the ship back towards the Mothership. 

“No way,” Riker gasped underneath his breath. 

Polcheny didn’t hear her own shout as she throttled the Cayuga forward, slipping in between the modules. At several thousand kilometers an hour, the Saber class starship dodged in and out of the structures, reaching for open space on the far side. The instant that her bow cleared the Mothership’s scaffolding, the Cayuga accelerated to three thousand times the speed of light and she was gone.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“We have to go back!” 

Aimee Maguire sat on the edge of a biobed, panting at the pain that her outburst had brought upon her. Doctor Moru held a steadying hand on her shoulder while he ran a bone knitter over her side. 

“You don’t understand! They were using Romulans as damned puppets–” 

Riker stood before her, his arms crossed over his chest. :I understand your loyalty, but right now, our priorities are to get to the Juneau and get the hell out of here.” 

“They mutilated Yeager!” 

“You are not encouraging me to change my mind,” he snapped back at her. 

“Aimee,” the Bolian physician said,” we lost thirty people to the void, not an hour ago. We can’t just charge back in.” 

The engineer mouthed helplessly for a moment. “Zim, they’ll do that to her!” 

“Commander, shut up,” Riker ordered her. “We have more important things to worry about than one more lost crew member.” He stepped over a triaged officer lying on the floor to reach the biobed where Pasko was lying. “Perhaps you can be less hysterical?” 

Pasko began to shake his head before wincing with pain. “She pretty much summed it all up. Gen-Sirt killed Leung so … casually.” 

Riker glanced back at Maguire. “I want us defended against their weapons.” 

“They were hitting us with miniature black holes, Riker. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?!” Maguire pushed herself to her feet, brushing Moru off of her. 

“I suggest you figure that out,” Riker snarled lowly. 

“Bridge to Riker.” 

Irritated, he slapped his combadge. “Captain Riker here.” 

There was silence on the other end of the intercom for a moment. Even Maguire shot a look at Moru.

“Sir, we’re located the Juneau in the Gamma Ceti system.” 

“Well, you tell Polcheny to get us over there — “

“The signal isn’t just coming from the system, sir. It’s… it’s coming from the fifth planet. From the surface. Juneau is down.” 

The End….

24 – ‘The Chandrasekhar Limit’

Star Trek: Cayuga

24 – ‘The Chandrasekhar Limit’

By Jack Elmlinger

Jeanne Pozach strode into the transporter room and she was pleased to find her officers assembled and waiting for her. Zimthar Moru, Ntannu, and Thomas Riker stood to one side of the room while Aimee Maguire had taken over Petty Officer Mbanu’s place at the transporter console. One of her hands rested firmly on Alice Polcheny’s shoulder. 

“Bring them aboard,” the Captain said with a smile. 

Maguire manipulated the controls and silvery-blue pillars appeared on four of the transporter pads. Within seconds after the materialization process, the pillar resolved into the forms of Sean Pasko, Sayvok, and two hulking, golden creatures. They twisted at the waist, their red cycloptic eyes examining the room that they were in. 

“Sean, Sayvok, welcome home,” Pozach said before she turned towards the two aliens. “Welcome aboard the Cayuga.” 

Pasko stepped off of the transporter pad. “Captain, there are the Pajahni, Gin-Sach and Gin-Sirt. We wouldn’t have been able to escape the Romulans without their help.” 

Gin-Sach stepped awkwardly forward on his back-canted legs. He extended a three-fingered hand towards Pozach. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain. We would be delighted to learn more about your Federation.” 

“If you’re not too worn out by your journey, I’d love to have a talk with you,” Moru said. Both of the Pajahni nodded towards him at the waist before they followed the physician out of the transporter room. Pozach, Riker, and Ntannu trailed out of the room after them. 

“Hey, it’s the dynamic duo,” Sean said.

Aimee’s eyes glinted at him as she released her grip on Alice. “Go get him, tigress.”

Alice moved at him in a blur of black, gray, and red, wrapping her arms around Sean and knocking him off-balance. “You’re back!,” she cried, clinging to his ribs. 

“Hey, Happy,” Aimee said, greeting Sayvok before grinning over at the joyful Alice and the increasingly embarrassed Sean. “Hail the conquering hero, eh?” 

“He is!,” Alice insisted. “He faced down the Romulans and discovered a mythical race of androids!” 

“It’s hardly the first time,” the chief engineer smirked, hoisting Sean’s bag up over her shoulder. “Why, just last year, he found a chupacabra behind the warp core.” 

Sayvok turned away from the Humans’ not wanting to intrude on their emotional reunion as much as he already had and left. Alice took a step back, allowing Sean to walk through the door. “What did I miss?,” he asked, once they were in the turbolift. 

“Well, first, we visited a planet full of sentient trees. I thought of you,” Aimee told him,” and anyways, Jeanne is now their queen. Then she helped enforce an oppressive patriarchal society of cats.” Pasko looked confused at her. “I’m not happy with her, right now.” 

The turbolift door opened and the trio exited the lift. A series of turns brought them to Sean’s quarters where Aimee kicked her load through the doorway. “Well, I’m going to recompile LCARS or something. You crazy kids have fun.” 

Sean raised his hand to wave goodbye to her but he found himself abruptly jerked inside his quarters. Alice pushed him down onto the bed, grinning while she laid on top of him, straddled to his wait. 

“So… tell me about those horrible Romulans.” 

Sean’s face darkened at her advances. “You spent a lot of time with Aimee, didn’t you?” 

“What?” 

“Get off.” Sean struggled back to his feet. He opened his bag and began to unpack. “There’s not much to tell about the mission. The Romulans got there before us and then they decided that they’d like to be alone. Gin-Sach helped us get out.” 

Alice nodded slowly and swallowed. “I’m glad that you had fun.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Bio-analogous lifeforms.” 

Doctor stood over a biobed, staring at the scan results. His reverent tone attracted Riker and Doctor Memrin to his side. 

“What does that mean?,” Riker asked him. 

“Androids are machines created to mimic organic lifeforms,” the Bolian explained to him. They were clustered around the Bolian physician, intent on the readouts. He gestured toward Gin-Sirt who was lying on the biobed. “But the Pajahni don’t just mimic the functions of an organic lifeform. They replicate the very structures of a biological body.” He pointed to different sections of the scanner readout. “This is a pump for the circulatory system. These nodes work to filter out foreign substances from the body. That…” His voice trailed off in astonishment. 

“That’s a womb,” Memrin gasped with surprise. 

“Our creators, the Yanisin, intended for us to be exact copies of their own flawless forms. Our name, ‘Pahjahni’ means ‘optimum’.” Gin-Sach stood on the opposite side of the biobed, facing Riker and Moru. “Our bodies grow, according to the design built into the most fundamental parts of our being. Re reproduce sexually as humanoids do and our offspring possess characteristics of both parents.” 

“We need to get Maguire down here,” Riker muttered between his teeth. 

“Tell us about the Yasinin, Gin-Sach,” Moru asked him. “To us, the Pahjahni are a myth but the Yasinin and the other races of the Demedra Alliance? We haven’t heard even a rumor about them.” 

“Our creators were the backbone of the Demedra Alliance as the F’Bekken were the heart, the Alzok, the mind, and the Xailing, the arm. The Alliance co-existed with the Iconian Empire. Alone, they were nothing, but together, they had the Iconians’ respect.” 

Gin-Sirt carefully placed one heavy foot on the ground and then the other foot, both of them causing a resounding thud as she rose up from the biobed. “It was never them that our creators feared.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Mister Hobbes, I’m beginning to think that you have a real flair for design.” Captain Amaara M’Roaki settled down into one of the four couches that were positioned around the forty-four image of a star. 

From his place, leaning against the orange-grid wall, Riker smirked at the science officer. “I do love how you managed to match the upholstery to the corona.” 

Pozach leaned forward on her own couch. “Let’s get started,” she said, nodding to Hobbes and T’Priss. 

“This is Tau Kahla, a red supergiant star,” the Vulcan woman said,” and it is extremely close to the end of its lifecycle.” 

“It’s about to go nova?,” asked Ntannu. 

“Better,” Hobbes grinned at them. “Tau Kahla is massive. It’s going to go supernova and it’s got enough mass in it to collapse into a black hole.” 

“Now that’s something,” said Maguire. 

Survek nodded his assent. “Starfleet has only two recordings of a star collapsing into a black hole from the starship Essex in 2254 and the starship Tsiolkovsky in 2362.” 

“Neither of those ships had the sensors that the Juneau has,” M’Roaki said with pride in her ship. 

“For the Cayuga, this is an escort mission,” Pozach told the gathered senior officers from both ships. “We go in and we watch the Juneau do their job. Then we’re on our way and it’s as simple as that.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Keitsev.”

Vasily Keitsev startled at the sound of his name, jerking his attention away from the PADD that he was reading from. Crewman Leung stood over her, scowling down at the neat stacks that covered his desk. “What?,” he asked the security officer. 

“Dinnertime. Come on.” He gestured towards the door. 

“I’ll take a PADD with me,” the prisoner said absently. “I want to get through these communiques.” 

“You can’t, possibly, be that popular.” 

“They’re from the Anurans.” Keitsev pointed to the piles in turn. “Finances, spaceport policy, foreign affairs.” She shook his head. “Lamaari Crusader ships have been detected around the fringes of their star system. There have also been overtures from an Orion investor about purchasing the space station. He made, at least, one cryptic remark during his interview that makes me wonder if he’s not an employee of the Orion Syndicate.” 

“Not all Orions are evil,” Leung said, turning towards the door. “The Captain will deal with it.” 

Keitsev frowned. “I hope so.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Brandon Hobbes stared at the holographic representation of Tau Kahla, lounging back in his chair. The Juneau’s astrophysics lab was spacious — there were a dozen officers at the various stations — and this was only one of nine dedicated science labs aboard the Galaxy class starship. 

“Stellar collapse is proceeding at a predictable pace,” T’Priss said, walking along the consoles. 

Hobbes felt a flare of jealousy over the facilities that she commanded. “Have we finished our surveys?” 

“The close spectroscopic analysis has been completed,” one of her junior officers reported to her.

“I’ve finished mapping the sunspot activity,” reported Huang.

“Excellent,” the Vulcan officer said before she tapped her combadge. “T’Priss to Bridge. We have completed our deep scans and we are prepared to move back to a safe distance.” 

“Commander, deploy your probes,” M’Roaki said over the intercom. “Mister Muriko, take us beyond the edge of the system and tell the Cayuga to follow us.” There was a pause before the Caitian woman said,” I don’t see any of those stars moving.” 

“Course set. There are no stellar objects in the way,” the Zakdorn reported. Hobbes and Huang shared a confused and worried look between them. “Matter/antimatter flow is stable. Engaging warp drive… and nothing, Captain.” 

“Bridge to Engineering!” 

T’Priss turned towards her technicians. “How long until the stellar core collapses?” 

There was a flurry of hands moving over consoles. “It’s impossible to say for certain,” one of the science officers answered her,” but I would have to say in no less than thirty hours.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Every bulkhead and every floor panel in Engineering had been pulled up and piled out of the way. The darkened warp core brooded over the frenzied activities of the engineers. 

“Try it again!,” Maguire shouted from down deep inside the warp core pit. 

Suspended from the side of the core, her assistant chief engineer, Zehna Nako reset the matter flow regulator. “Ready!,” his voice floated back up to her. 

“Ready!” 

“On my mark.” Maguire grit her teeth and crossed her fingers. “Mark!” 

Simultaneously, Zehna and Abdelazekk relaxed the magnetic constrictors, allowing minute amounts of matter and antimatter to race into the middle of the warp core, smashing against the dilithium chamber. For an instant, the warp core thrummed to life before it fell silent again. 

Maguire blew out a sigh of relief. “Maguire to Port Nacelle Control.” 

“Connelly here. We never got power to the nacelle.” 

“Starboard Control?” 

“The computer registered the command to engage the warp coils, but the power to do so did not arrive here,” Sayvok answered her and she bit her lip, restraining from uttering a howl of anger. 

“Would it help if I got out and pushed?” 

Maguire turned to see Pasko and Captain Pozach picking their way across the floor. “Report,” the captain said, her eyes moving over the dormant warp core.

“We’ve ruled out any damage to the warp core.” 

“A flaw in computer control? Maybe it’s something that Stavek left behind for us?” 

“No.” Maguire shook her head “We can produce power. It just — disappears.” 

“That’s impossible,” Pasko said. 

“Then imagine my surprise when power leaves the core and doesn’t go to the nacelles.” 

“Could we be,” — Pozach frowned, searching for the correct work — ,” leaking?” 

“We would be dead before we realized that anything was wrong.” She began to tug at her braid in frustration. “Fenzel found the same thing wrong with the Juneau. My next move is to rip apart the power transfer system, section by section.” 

“How long will that take?” 

“Almost a day.” 

“We don’t have much time.” 

“I can’t do this any faster, Jeanne,” Maguire snapped at her. “I’m disassembling systems that were either designed by some master genius. Or weren’t meant to be opened outside of a shipyard.” 

“Hurry,” the captain said, turning on her heel. 

“Because I’ve been dawdling along so far” Maguire sneered at Pozach’s backside as she walked out of Engineering before she shoved her braid over her shoulder. “Maguire to all engineers. Come on home. We’ve got some work to do.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“We’re running away from Tau Kahla at full impulse,” Lieutenant Pasko said, resting his elbows on the Situation Room table. “It should buy us another two or three minutes once the star goes nova.” 

Around the table, the senior officers fidgeted in their seats and at the aft edge of the window, Commander Riker could see the luminous dot of Tau Kahla. 

“Lieutenant Commander Maguire and her engineering teams are working on getting our warp core back on-line but it isn’t looking good.” Pozach drummed her fingers on the table in front of her. “We need to prepare for the eventuality that we’ll have to abandon ship.” 

Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Ntannu said,” We have the escape pods along with the Garibaldi and the Ivanova. How long will it take us to tow all of our pods outside the radius of the blast zone?” 

“That depends on the numbers of escape pods and auxiliary craft that the Juneau carries.” Pozach’s voice rose at the end of her sentence and her eyes directed the question to Riker who moved away from the window.

“How the hell should I know?” 

Pozach blinked at his reaction and Pasko spoke up, slowly, watching the First Officer as well. “They should have the runabout and a dozen or so of Type-Six and Type-Nine shuttlecrafts.” 

“If it helps at all, I’m getting spectacular data,” Hobbes said, but no one cared. 

“My orders for all departments are to pack up everything possible and to prepare to abandon ship,” the Captain said, rising up from her seat. “We have eighteen hours.” 

Riker was the first one to the turbolift. “Sickbay,” he snapped at the computer. 

He stepped onto Deck Five, smiling to himself as Crewman Leung flattened against the bulkhead to get out of his way. The doors to Sickbay whooshed open for him and the nurses looked up in surprise at his sudden presence.

“Can I help you, Commander?,” Nurse Taylor asked him from the nurse’s station.

“Ensign Collier asked me to remind her about her meeting at fifteen hundred hours.” 

“Thank you, Commander,” Collier said, standing up from her seat beside Taylor. “I’d nearly forgotten.” She kept the grin off of her face until the couple were in the turbolift together. “I don’t have any meetings,” she murmured teasingly. 

Riker’s tone was exasperating. “We’ve faced with a somewhat unique situation.” 

“Is there trouble?,” she asked him as he pulled her out of the lift. They paused in front of the door to his quarters and he keyed open the door with his thumbprint, pushing her ahead of him. 

“Yeah, we’re all going to die.” Spinning her around on her feet, he flicked her combadge across the room. “Or we’re not, but we’ll be stuck inside of escape pods for a month.” He tugged down the zippers of her duty jacket and the blue shirt underneath it in two swift jerks of his hand. 

“Oh.” Roslyn felt a wicked grin slip over her lips. She angled her shoulders back, shedding her pants. “Well, bed or floor?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Amaara M’Roaki sat facing the window with a glass of amber liquid loose in her paw. Her eyes were locked onto the coin-sized star in the distance while she waited for it to blink. 

The door chimes rang and she set her glass down onto her desktop with a scowl. “Enter.” 

Jeanne Pozach stepped inside, squinting in the darkness. 

“Captain Pozach,” she said, gesturing towards the windows,” are you here for a viewing?” She nodded and sat down across from her desk. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“Caitian firewater, please.” M’Roaki tapped the replicator which produced a crystal sifter for her. 

“Command is a series of hard decisions,” her fellow woman said,” and what’s best isn’t always necessarily what’s right.” 

M’Roaki handed her the sifter. “What’s eating you?” 

“The Kzinti-prrt.” 

“It’s unconscionable that a culture advanced enought to achieve space flight would trade in sexual slavery,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “We faced aspects of it with the Ferasans.” 

“I don’t blame the Kzinti for their culture.” Pozach thought for a moment. “Well, I suppose I do, but I don’t blame them for the situations that they put me in. Or the choice that I had to make.” 

“Returning the Kzinti-prrt?” 

“It was both right and wrong,” she said, staring at the reddish liquid. “Right, in the fact, that we can’t interfere with the Kzinti culture. Wrong, because it trampled on her personal rights. And they would have killed all of us but that seemed to be beside the point at the time.” 

“The almighty Prime Directive.” M’Roaki raised her glass up. “It’s messier than they made it out to be at the Academy.” 

“I remember hearing examples about having to participate in bizarre rituals or staying hidden from young cultures. They never said that it would be repugnant.” 

“Years ago,” M’Roaki began and then stopped to take and blow out a breath,” I was a science officer before I entered the command track. We were doing cultural observation of a society on some backwater world. You should have seen the job that the CMO had to do to hide my… feline features.” 

She smiled, showing off her large canines. 

“Anyways, the duck blind that we had set up overlooked this rock that they used for religious ceremonies. I was watching one of their rituals, one day, and I didn’t realize until they were half-way through it, that it was a virgin sacrifice.” 

She took a drink. “I got busted back down to Ensign for trying to stop it.” 

“Is non-interference worth it? We have so much in the Federation and with even the slightest effort, we would raise the quality of life on hundreds of worlds.” 

“Cultural independence over individual rights?” She took another sip of her drink. “Ni, I don’t like it, either,” she continued, pulling at her ear,” but consider this. In the twentieth century, Earth was… well, you guys were a mess. Conflicts over religious doctrine. Wars over resources. It wasn’t until the rise of Khan Noonian Singh that the existing social structures were annihilated and you Humans were able to build truly equal societies.” 

Pozach took a meditative sip of her own drink. It made her feel warm inside. “Yes, but did that result make something like the nuclear destruction of Teheran okay?” 

“Not even slightly.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Do you need help?” 

Alice stood in the doorway to Sean’s quarters, glancing around the room. His quarters were usually Spartan but now even the small things that he deigned to decorate with — his medals and his crucifix — had been stripped off of the walls and packed away into a standard-issue duffle bag. He glanced up from folding his uniforms. 

“I’m almost done.” 

Nodding, Alice stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind her. “Are you mad at me?” 

“What would I have to be mad at you about?,” he asked her, placing a uniform into his bag. 

Alice caught the edge of of his bag and tipped it over, spilling its contents onto the floor. “Please don’t put me off,” she said. “You’re angry. Mad. Pissed! You don’t have to pretend that you’re fine when you’re really not. Talk to me.” 

Sean resisted the urge to pick up the fallen items. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Try me.” 

“Flying has always been a joy for me. A gift.” He stalked across the room, turning back towards her before he hit the wall. “What’s all of my flying been amounted to? I dodn’t join Starfleet to fight, Alice, but that’s all that I do. And you? I know you don’t understand because you’re satisfied with your job. You’re satisfied because you pervert flying with combat.” 

Alice sat down on the chair in front of his desk. “That’s not fair,” she told him,” but you’re angry so I’ll forgive you.” Sean grunted at her, searching the bathroom for some deodorant. “So, are you mad at me for enjoying something you’ve spoiled for yourself? Or are you mad at yourself for spoiling it in the first place?” 

Anger and irritation were mixed on his face. Polcheny stood up and walked over to him, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. “Work yourself out,” she whispered,” then come back to me.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Keitsev dropped the welding glasses from his eyes.

“That should do it,” he said, stepping out of the escape pod. Skt had planted itself, a few feet down the hall and it was watching him as he wiped soil off of his boots and his knees. “When you hear Captain Pozach call for evacuation, you head for this escape pod. Hit this panel,” — he tapped it, triggering the newly-installed array of lights — ,” and you’ll be set until we’re able to pick you up.” 

“Where is your escape pod, Vasily Keitsev?”

“Near my quarters on Deck Seven.” 

Skt rustled its branches, its eyestalks peering at both Keitsev and the escape pod. “You are different from the others aboard this ship. You are not treated like you are one of the Grove.” 

Keitsev frowned. “I did something that they didn’t like. Something that they thought was wrong.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Okay. What if…” He thought for a moment. “What if the Glorious made a decision that hurt only a few of you?”

Skt’s roots shifted against the deck’s carpet. “It is unlikely. The Glorious chooses what is best for all.” 

Keitsev closed the escape pod’s hatch. “Now, see, I don’t believe that. If the Glorious always picks what’s best for you, then why did you stow away for a chance to talk to Captain Pozach?” He turned back towards Skt. “When the government is wrong, the people must take individual action.” 

“We accepted the Glorious as our ruler because we hoped that she would teach us new ways of living.” Skt’s branches shuddered as if the tree-creature was shrugging. “Perhaps this is one of the first.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The bulkheads on Decks Five through Nine included three feet of special buffering to protect the crew from radiation, subspace distortion, and other nastiness that the warp nacelles generated. The buffers were complicated to disassemble with its forty-seven layers. Some of them were irradiated and some of them were paper-thin. In a shipyard that was equipped with the proper tools and an entire refit team, disassembling the buffers would usually take half a day. 

Maguire cut through them in under ten minutes. 

“We’re going to have to evacuate this deck when we go to warp,” Zehna said, accepting the plasma torch from her. 

“And the adjacent decks, to be safe,” she answered the Bajoran, crawling into the narrow tunnel of pipes and conduits that she had exposed. The tunnel stretched off to the left, running down the entire length of the port nacelle. She scurried over to the angular box where she knew that power flowed into the nacelle. “Pry the covering off.” 

Sayvok and Zehrna worked the fasteners, loosening the panel and setting it aside. Underneath it lay the thick piping of the electro-plasma system. Maguire frowned, fingering a golden object which was blatantly foreign and tapped into the power system. Trading a look with Zehna, she plucked the object off of the conduit. 

Instantly, the device ripped away from her fingers. It dripped out of her palm and evaporated before it touched the floor. 

Maguire struck her combadge. “Connelly! Run a test pulse through the port nacelle!” 

An electric trill sound ran through the tunnel and from the depths of the nacelle, a brilliant blue obliterated the darkness. “Commander! The port nacelle is reading green across the board, accepting power all along the line!” Maguire frantically shooed the other engineer back inside. 

She set down the corridor at a dead run, heading for the starboard nacelle. “Maguire to Pozach!”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pozach turned away from the Garibaldi. “Go ahead.” 

“We’ve got it! I need,” — Maguire paused, panting — ,”ten minutes to get this thing out of the other nacelle!”

Pushing out of the pilot’s chair, Pasko said,” We might just beat the stellar eruption.” 

“Bridge, Now,” Pozach said. They raced for the turbolift, relishing the press of its acceleration as it ascended. 

“I’m putting a tractor beam on the Juneau,” the captain said as she stepped behind the ops console. “All shuttles and escape pods are out of the blast radius.” 

“She works fast,” Pasko commented. “The mains are back on-line. So is the warp drive.” 

“Look.” Pozach was pointing towards the viewscreen. The dot of Tau Kahla expanded and then exploded in a flash. “I can’t think of a better send-off.” The stars elongated and the Cayuga jumped away to warp space.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire lay spread-eagle on the deck in Engineering, grinning dopily at the warp core. She could feel its power surging through the ship. “I’m glad that you’re still here,” she murmured. 

“Lieutenant Commander.” 

She jumped at Tom Riker’s voice, scrambling to her feet. 

“Commander,” she said,” what can I — “

“Have you finished checking for more of those devices?” 

“The warp drive is clean.” 

Riker wasn’t impressed. “Did you check the weapons and defensive systems?” 

“Yes.” 

“Life-support?”

“First thing,” the chief engineer snapped back at him, her eyes thinning into slits. 

Riker began to circle her. “And have you figured out how those things were placed inside compartments that we don’t have doors on?” 

She turned to face him. “I’ve got a theory — “

“Theory isn’t going to keep this from happening again.” Riker leaned down into her face. “Get some evidence. Get some facts. And stay the hell off of the damned floor.” 

The End…

23 – ‘Material Sacrilege’

Star Trek: Cayuga

23 – ‘Material Sacrilege’

By Jack Elmlinger

Roslyn Collier arched her back upwards and moaned. Somehow Tom had procured a set of sheets that were entirely made out of Tholian silk. She had never seen so much of the fabric before, let alone revelled in the whisper of the ten-thousand count threads against her naked skin. 

“Pozach to Riker.” 

Roslyn glanced at the bathroom and she decided that it was best that she not disturb Tom. suddenly aware of her own nudity, she pulled the sheets up around her chest. “He’s momentarily disturbed, Captain,” she said, answering the captain’s summons. 

Pozach was silent for a moment — trying to guess who was speaking to her, Roslyn decided — before she continued,” I apologize for calling so early. Please inform Mister Riker to come to my Ready Room as soon as possible.” 

“Yes, Captain,” Roslyn said, lying back in bed. Tom might have to go to work but she still had some hedonism left in her. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Really?” Sean Pasko scowled, fixing the makeshift bandage around Commander Survek’s head. “We shouldn’t be that surprised. ‘Romulan’ is an anagram for ‘immoral’?” 

Jacqueline Yeager glanced over at him across the unconscious form of the Vulcan. “This isn’t the time to joke, Lieutenant.” She dug through her survival pack for a dermal regenerator. 

He shrugged at her. “I couldn’t think of a better one.” At the sound of boots on rubble, he turned to see Sayvok. “Anything?” 

The Vulcan knelt down beside the others. “It would be unwise to attempt to dig our way out. I believe that the ceiling collapsed on top of the rest of the complex.” 

“We’re trapped here?,” asked Yeager. 

“Possibly.” He nodded towards the darkness. “This tunnel branches off and connects to other tunnels. We may be able to find our way back to the surface.” 

“All right,” Pasko said, pushing himself up to his feet. “The three of us will explore our way out of here and get back to the runabout.” 

Yeager wasn’t moving. “We’re leaving Commander Survek behind?” 

Pasko checked the charge in his phaser. “For now, we are, Ensign. We’ve got to hurry to make sure that the Romulans haven’t captured our runabout. Once we secure it, we’ll try to beam him out of here.” 

“Carrying the Commander would not slow us down significantly,” noted Sayvok 

“That’s true, but if the Romulans get to our runabout first… If they destroy it, or move it a few kilometers…” He let the implication hang in the air. 

Scowling at him, Yeager placed a survival pack next to Survek. “Let’s go.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Hisses and roars filled the room. Pozach warily eyes where she imagined that the hidden speakers were located while Doctor Moru waited patiently. When the incomprehensible noise ended, Commander Tom Riker said,” It’s Kzinti.” 

“Indeed it is,” Pozach agreed with him. “The transmission is incomplete. What we can determine from it, is that it’s a distress signal.” 

Riker shook his head “That can’t be right. The Kzinti don’t announce weakness.” 

“This one did. In fact, it seems that one Kzinti destroyer group was ambushed by another. I would imagine they’re of different houses or clans.” 

“We can empty out the Mess Hall and the Shuttle Bay,” Moru suggested,” using them as triage areas.” 

“We’re bringing them aboard?”

“They’re in need of our aid.” 

“And they’ll be tranquilized,” the Bolian chief medical officer added with a knowing nod of his bald blue head. Pozach frowned at this statement but she didn’t argue with it. She knew that in some matters, the Chief Medical Officer had the final word. 

“Oh, that should be a relief. I’m glad that we aren’t letting eight-hundred-pound predators run loose around the ship.” 

“We can’t just pass them by,” the captain replied. “Of course, they wouldn’t have put out a distress signal if they weren’t anticipating a rescue attempt. So I suspect that it won’t be long until more Kzinti arrive.” 

“More Kzinti,” Riker growled underneath his breath. “Most people aren’t happy at the thought of more Kzinti.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“I’m stationing five security officers in Sickbay. There will also be personal guards for each of your doctors and nurses,” Lieutenant Ntannu told Doctor Moru. “I understand that the Kzinti will be sedated, but I don’t want to take any chances.” 

“I’m not arguing,” the chief medical officer said over a tray of hyposprays. “I just ask you that your people try to stay out of our way.” The Bolian caught sight of Doctor Memrin and he waved her over to him. “I need you to take Taylor and Mykers to get Cargo Bay One ready.” 

“How bad is it going to be?,” Corpsman Mykers asked once they had entered the turbolift. 

“We don’t know how big that destroyer group was or how many survivors that there may be,” the Benzite physician explained with a shrug. 

“At least if we run out of tranquilizers, you two can stun them with your phasers,” Nurse Taylor told the security officer lightly. 

Leung shared a look with Tajin. “To stun, set, these weapons aren’t,” Tajin answered, her Horrusi monologue making her fellow crewman pause to think for a moment. 

The Cargo Bay was a seething mass of activity. Engineers were anxiously moving equipment to the transporter or to the turbolift so that they could clear up as much of the deck as possible. 

“Once you’re finished, lock down the turbolift!,” Zehna yelled over the ruckus. “The last thing that we want is some Kzinti getting his claws onto one of the quantum torpedoes!” 

“Start laying out the blankets, Memrin ordered the members of her team. 

“Give me a hand,” Taylor told Tajin. Their row of blankets had reached a stack of cargo containers when the Horrusi security officer froze in her tracks. 

“On the ground, leaves… why?,” asked the security officer. 

Taylor didn’t bother to look since he was too busy with tugging the remaining blanket from her stilled hands. “They probably got tracked aboard. Come on,” he urged her but she was already squeezing behind the cargo containers. 

“Doctor Memrin!,” she cried out. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Oddly enough, the Captain wasn’t angry. Irritated, yes. Annoyed at the complication, but not angry.

“Welcome aboard,” she said dryly. 

The Anuran’s branches shifted beneath the bank of lights that mimicked the wavelengths of its home world’s star. “Glorious,” answered the translator. 

“Skt, when I left Anura, I placed you in charge. And yet you’re here.” 

“Perhaps neither of us fulfills the other’s expectations of leadership.” 

Pozach raised her left hand, the light catching onto the obsidian band on her wrist. “I told the Glorious — the former Glorious — that I had other responsibilities and that I refused to become the master of your species. I don’t have the right to trample upon your self-determination.” 

“It is our self-determination that leads us to you, Glorious.” Skt shifted forward. “This is why I placed myself as a burr upon your ship.” 

“Which brings me to another point. We’re on a starship! There’s no soil and no sunlight here. You could have died. You were comatose when my officers found you!” 

“Proximal dialogue must be established,” Skt insisted. 

“Yes,” she agreed with it,” but not right now. We’re about to enter an emergency situation.” 

Skt quivered before her. “Then I shall await the Glorious’ free moments.” 

“You’ll have them,” Pozach promised it before she stepped outside of the observation deck. 

“I don’t have any security personnel left to watch it,” Ntannu said, once the doors closed  behind her. 

“I don’t think that Skt poses a threat to us.” Pozach rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’ll find a junior officer to watch over him.” 

The intercom chirped for attention. “Captain to the Bridge. We’ve reached the Kzinti battle zone.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

As the haze of the transporter effect lifted over them, Aimee Maguire laid a hand on her holstered hand phaser, though she didn’t need to bother with it. 

The eight Starfleet officers stood in the large piece of debris in the battle zone. The section was nearly four hundred meters long, shadowing the Cayuga with its bulk. It was one of the few ships that still held atmosphere and had lifesigns. 

“It looks like one of their engine drives was destroyed, taking out the entire aft hull of the ship,” Aaron Connelly said with his eyes on his tricorder. “The radiation count is pretty high.” 

“We won’t be here for long, Aaron. Track down the survivors and get the pattern enhancers on them,” the chief engineer ordered before she began to follow her tricorder and the readings that she got from the bulkhead. The first Kzinti in her path was unconscious. He was pinned underneath a support beam that must have been impervious to even his massive strength. Dixon strapped a pattern enhanced around one of the aliens’ thick biceps and stood clear as the debris shifted clear from the vacancy left behind. 

“Don’t get too far ahead of me,” he warned her. Two doors down from him, Maguire glared back at him. 

“The lock on this door is encrypted. It’s a lot more complicated than the other encryptions that the Kzinti use.” She scanned the room beyond the door. “There’s a lifesign behind it.” 

Dixon scowled back at her, positioning himself between Maguire and whatever was behind the door. “Open it.” 

Maguire looked mock-impressed — Aren’t you a big, strong man? — as she disabled safeguard after safeguard before she triggered the door mechanism. The door slid open to reveal a plush room filled with pillows and soft light colored in pink and orange. The security officer stepped inside, leading them with his phaser rifle. A single small Kzinti sat on top of a pile of pillows. She watched them with curious green eyes, sniffing daintily at the phaser rifle. 

“Meow?,” she asked. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“She seems to be in good health,” Zimthar Moru said, passing the Feinberger sensor from his medical tricorder over the small Kzinti. “A few bumps and bruises but the most intriguing thing is that she’s not trying to kill any of us.” 

Pozach raised an eyebrow. “How… un-Kzinti of her.” 

“Exactly, and combined with her small size and lack of coherent speech makes me think that she’s either very juvenile or mental disabled.” 

“The Kzinti wouldn’t allow a stupid child to live. Why a two-hundred-pound infant?” 

“We don’t know about Kzinti development or education,” the Bolian pointed out to her. “She’s unharmed and she doesn’t seem to be a threat. I’d be delighted if you could find somewhere else for her to be. I need the bed.” 

Pozach thought about his request for a moment. “Mister Ntannu has his hands full at the moment. I’ll have Ensign Polcheny arrange a space for her.” She glanced around Sickbay at the rows of silent, sleeping Kzinti. “How bad were the casualties?” 

“It’s hard to tell. “We’ve got nearly six hundred Kzinti aboard but we don’t know, for certain, how many ships there were or how many Kzinti crewed aboard them. Our intelligence on their military is nearly two decades old and working for that, I would estimate around eleven thousand fatalities.” 

Pozach shook her head. 

The lights turned red and the wail of the battle stations klaxon nearly overwhelmed the chirp of her combadge. “Captain, a Kzinti armada has entered the area,” Riker’s voice wavered slightly. “We’ll be in weapons range within twenty minutes.” 

“The Kzinti relief group has arrived?,” Pozach asked him, stepping over inert Kzinti bodies to reach the door. 

“I don’t think that relief has anything to do with it.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pasko led the way into the darkness, feeling his way along the wall while he searched for an upward angle. “Keep a map of where we’ve been,” he called over his shoulder. The rock wall abruptly changed to a metal bulkhead and his palm beacon revealed that the tunnel had dead-ended into a cavernous room with crates scattered inside of it. 

“A storeroom?,” asked Yeager. 

“There is a wide variety of equipment in the containers. It is a reasonable hypothesis.” Sayvok altered the scanning mode of his tricorder. “There are no DNA traces other than our own here. I do not believe that the Romulans have found this chamber, Lieutenant.” 

“Maybe there’s a schematic of the installation,” Pasko said, searching for a console. “Find us a faster way — “

In the darkness across the chamber, something clattered. 

“You said that there were no DNA traces!,” Yeager hissed at Sayvok. 

“There still aren’t any,” the Vulcan said, altering his tricorder’s scan mode again. 

Pasko motioned them back and crept around a stack of equipment with his phaser drawn out of its holster. Taking a deep breath, he dove around the corner and he came up, his phaser stretched out first, before he gasped at what he saw. 

It stood no more than two meters tall. Its black and gold skin glinted in the poor light and it appeared to be composed of sharp angles. When it shifted its position, it did so on back-canted legs. Pasko gawked at it over his phaser, frozen by its single red eye. 

“Greetings,” it said, the sound emerging, not from its mouth — it had none — but from somewhere inside its chest. “You are new to this world, are you not?” 

Slowly and awkwardly, the pilot forced himself to lower his phaser and lay it down on the ground. “I’m Lieutenant Pasko of the United Federation of Planets.” He opened up his hands and said,” We come in peace for all of our kind.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“You will bring me and my entourage aboard your ship, ape.” The Kzinti’s golden eyes burned through the viewscreen at the Bridge crew. “You will allow this and we will not attempt to board your ship by force.” 

“I’m afraid that high levels of alpha radiation generated by the battle have rendered our transporter inoperative,” Pozach replied coolly. “If you’d like to send a shuttlecraft over, I’d be delighted to have you.” 

The Kzinti snarled an affirmative and disappeared from the screen.

“Alpha radiation,” Maguire said dryly. 

“I hear that it’s a killer,” Pozach replied glibly. “That’ll give us an hour. Mister Riker, tell me about the Kzinti armada.” 

“Sixteen ships, and all of them are bearing the crest of the royal house.” He leaned over his console, his chin in his hand. “You were likely speaking to a member of the royal house. It was possibly the Crown Prince.” 

“He almost seemed friendly enough to me,” Aerru said from the helm. At his captain’s gaze, he continued,” Well, he didn’t threaten us until the end.” 

Riker looked over at the Kelpien before he manipulated the viewscreen to frame the large Kzinti flagship. It looked like a bundle of rust-brown knives that were pointed directly at the Cayuga. “There wasn’t anything non-threatening about it. He wants to attack us but I don’t think he can risk it with so many of his soldiers aboard.” 

Pozach touched the console in the arm of her command chair. “Mister Ntannu, we’re going to be receiving guests shortly. I would like to be very ready for them.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

She had considered changing into her dress uniform before she decided that the gesture would probably be lost on her visitors. She didn’t argue when Ntannu pressed a phaser rifle into her hands. It was a prop to her, an item to maintain the Kzinti’s respect because behind her, a dozen security officers stood with their weapons aimed at the airlock. 

The first Kzinti stepped through the airlock, unfurling to full size as he entered the corridor. The overhead lights glinted off of the golden armor that he was wearing. He sniffed at the air, the very tips of his claws peeking out from his paws. 

“I am Crown Prince Purthas,” he snarled at Pozach without the benefit of a translator. “You will take me to the wounded.” 

“I am Captain Jeanne Pozach of the Cayuga,” she replied,” and I will permit this.” She stepped aside, allowing Purthas and his entourage to follow Ntannu down the corridor. The Starfleet captain studied the entourage which was made up of two hulking Kzinti in armor that was less splendid than Purthas’. They were followed by a mangy, hunched over Kzinti who was trailing behind them. 

“This is our Sickbay,” she found herself sayd. “The most injured Kzinti are being cared for in here.” 

Purthas sniffed one of the Kzinti before he lashed out at him, spraying blood across the room. The Captain gasped at the violent act and Moru threw himself over his patient. The Crown Prince pulled back to strike again but he stopped in his tracks when he found the Ktarian security chief’s rifle in his face. 

“He is my enemy!,” Purthas roared with anger and rage. “His clan attacked mine!” 

Clutching her rifle to her chest, Pozach said,” Prince Purthas, I think that we should continue this discussion in my Ready Room — “ 

Purthas spun around towards his entourage and growled at the mangy-looking Kzinti. The scruffy creature sighed and closed his eyes. Moru screamed suddenly while Ntannu and the security officers dropped their weapons to clutch their heads. Pozach gasped, stumbling from the pain before she slowly straightened up and worked her mind in a way that she hadn’t tried since she left Intooine. 

“Stop that,” she growled, her gaze boring into the disheveled Kzinti. 

“My liege!,” he cried out to Purthas. “It is a Human-prrt!” 

Purthas reared back from Pozach, hissed and spitting at her. He turned around, searching for and dragging the senseless Ntannu to his feet. “My Kzinti-prrt is aboard this ship. I can smell her. Return her to me in one hour or I will retrieve her by force!” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Fascinating.” 

The creature waited patiently as Sayvok began his third scan. His head had a perpetual shake as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. He looked at Pasko and Yeager and explained to them. “Gin-Sach is an android with systems of incredible sophistication.” He returned his attention to his tricorder readings and added,” Several of them which are redundant.” 

“My kind, the Pajahni, were considered the finest of our creators’ accomplishments,” Gin-Sach commented. 

“Your ‘kind’? There are more of you?,” Pasko asked the automaton. “An entire race of robots?” 

“Who were your creators?,” Yeager asked before Gin-Sach could answer Pasko’s questions. 

“There are those who are known as the Yanisin.” The Pajahni rotated its hips which was the equivalent of a head shake from the neckless android. “It has been centuries since we have interacted with biological entities.” 

“Yeah, well, there are plenty of us now,” Pasko said, taking a step back. 

“There are others?” 

“No one that you want to meet.” 

“A race called the Romulans,” Yeager said as she shot Lieutenant Pasko a glare. “They set off the explosion that trapped us down here.” 

“The explosion. Yes. We were displeased at the interruption.” The Pajahni nodded at the waist. “You have transportation.” 

“Yes, on the surface,” Pasko said,” but one of our — “ He gestured back towards the darkness. 

“We will make arrangements for him and for these ‘Romulans’ that bar your path.” Gin-Sach turned away. “Continue to the surface. You will find your vessel unblemished.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“So why didn’t he just take this Kzinti-prrt with him?,” Maguire asked. “It’s not like the Kzinti are that big on asking for anything politely.” 

“He’s afraid that we’ll destroy her,” Ntannu answered her, pressed a cold compress against his forehead. “That telepath or whatever it is, saw that it’s aboard.” 

Riker glanced across the Situation Room conference table. “Interesting fact,” he said. “‘Kzinti-prrt’ is the Kzinti term for ‘woman’.” 

“So he’s looking for his wife?,” asked Hobbes. “His sister?” 

“He didn’t say wife or sister. He said woman.” 

Maguire frowned. “The only female that we found was that little girl.” 

“She’s fully developed,” Moru said and Maguire turned towards the Bolian with a confused look on her face. “I had Ensign Polcheny bring her down to Sickbay for a full examination. She’s as developed as she’s going to get. Her brain isn’t complex enough to comprehend speech in her own language.” 

“So she’s mentally challenged?,” was Ntannu’s question. 

“That’s what I thought, at first,” the doctor said,” but after Purthas left the ship, I started comparing her DNA to some of our guests’ and I discovered something interesting.” He rose from his seat and went over to activate the wall monitor. “Many of their characteristics, including musculature and intelligence, are independently linked to the X and Y chromosomes. It’s possible to breed their traits out of one gender but not out of the other.” 

“So the Kzinti-prrt have been bred this way?,” Maguire asked slowly. 

Ntannu straightened up in his seat. “Regardless of that, we have to hand her over.” The Chief Engineer turned towards him and he held up a hand to silence her. “Our technology may be more advanced than the Kzinti but there are still sixteen ships out there. We have to do as Purthas demands.” 

“No, we don’t!,” Maguire snapped back at him. 

“It’s wrong,” said Hobbes. “She’s a pet to them and nothing more than a breeder. We can’t send her back to that.” 

Pozach shook her head, rising up from the table. “I need to think this over.” 

“What is there to think about?,” Moru called after her. 

Pozach stepped into the turbolift. “Deck Six,” she said after the doors closed behind her. She slouched against the wall, letting the subtle hum of the lift soothe her. Then it stopped at her destination and she was back on duty. 

She pressed the chime for Ensign Polcheny’s room. “Come in,” cried a laughing voice. Polcheny was wrestling with the Kzinti-prrt, tumbling and giggling. Upon seeing the captain, she gasped and stood abruptly at attention. “Captain?” 

Pozach waved her to stand at-ease. “May I sit?” Polcheny nodded emphatically and she slumped down into a chair. “What do you think of her?,” she asked, nodding towards the Kzinti-prrt.

“She’s really fun,” Polcheny answered immediately. “She was a little scary, at first, with her growly face, but I gave her some ahi tuna and then she liked me a lot. I named her Mittens.” 

Mittens padded over and sniffed at Pozach’s knee. “Her brothers have arrived and they want to take her home.” 

“That’s good.” The young pilot took in her captain’s dour expression. “Right?” 

“I don’t think that the Kzinti treat the Kzinti-prrt well,” she said slowly. “I believe that she’s like a possession in her own culture, used only for breeding purposes.” She drew in a deep breath to continue but she stopped when she caught sight of Polcheny’s horrified expression and her tight grip on Mittens’ fur. 

“Why would people do that?” 

Pozach blew out the breath. “Do you understand what misogyny is?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pozach was less than surprised to see that Lieutenant Commander Maguire and Commander Riker were waiting outside her quarters. “Can we talk?,” the engineer asked her. She opened the door and waved both of them inside. 

“We can’t turn her over to them,” she said, sitting down on the couch. “The Articles of Federation promise basic rights for all beings. This slavery of theirs is beyond the pale.” 

“The Articles only apply to sentient members of the Federation,” Riker said, easily countering her argument. 

“There is basic decency that applies to everyone,” Maguire snapped back at the First Officer. “Basic freedoms.” 

“No one’s ever gotten high and mighty about repression of the Jarada breeder caste, protested the Vorta’s and the Jem’hadar’s lack of free will or decried the dozen of worlds under the benevolent subjugation of the Klingons.” 

“It’s wrong to force an entire gender into sexual slavery.. It’s just wrong.” 

“To your culture, sure. Is your culture any better?” 

“Apparently so!” 

“What gives you the authority to force your culture onto the Kzinti?” 

“They are wrong and we are right! That is the highest authority that we need!”

“So much for infinite diversity in infinite combinations. How’s that any different than the Founders deciding that their culture was better than those living in the Alpha Quadrant? Wasn’t starting the Dominion War ‘wrong’?” 

“Enough,” Pozach told them and they both looked at her, surprised by her interruption. “Leave me be.” 

“Half an hour to Purthas’ deadline, Captain,” Riker reminded her. 

She glared back at him. “Then I suppose you should be up on the Bridge.” 

He nodded but Maguire stepped forward. “Jeanne…” 

Pozach shook her head at her. After the door closed behind them, she wandered into her bedroom. “Well?,” she asked her poster of Jim Morrison.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“See anyone?” 

Pasko peeked out from around a burnt-red boulder, squinting through his sunglasses. The runabout was still resting in the valley where they had left it. There were scuff marks in the dirt but there were no other signs of the Romulans. 

“It looks clear to me. Sayvok?” 

The Vulcan peered down at his tricorder, eschewing his own sun visor, even in the blinding light. “There are no lifesigns out there. Only one lifesign inside the runabout with a Starfleet combadge signal.” 

“Commander Survek,” Yeager breathed. 

“Gin-Sach couldn’t have gotten him here ahead of us. It’s probably a trap.” Pasko looked at the ship longingly. “The three of us should be able to take care of it.” Drawing his hand phaser from his belt holster, he crept out from behind the boulder. Sayvok and Yeager followed close behind him. 

He stepped onto  the nacelle and reached for the hatch control until Sayvok’s hand on his shoulder made him freeze. The Vulcan pointed down at his boot and slowly, he lifted his boot up to reveal a small splash of green blood against the silver hull. Frowning, he keyed open the hatch and leaned inside with his phaser first. 

Two Pajahni stood in the cockpit alongside Commander Survek. Their eerie red gazes were locked on the lieutenant’s phaser. “Your commander has been recovered,” one of them said. Pasko thought that it was Gin-Sach but he couldn’t be sure by their similarities. “My comrade Gin-Sirt and I would like to join you.” 

“Commander, are you all right?,” Pasko asked him, holstering his weapon. Sayvok and Yeagur stepped inside the runabout and took seats at the rear of the cockpit. 

Survek took over the co-pilot’s position. “I believe that it would be best to expedite our return to the Juneau.” 

“Gin-Sach, Gin… whatever, take a seat in the back.” Pasko sat in the pilot’s chair and swung around to face his console. “I’m going to blast us out of the atmosphere and jump to warp as soon as we’re in space. If we’re lucky, the Havraha will be on the other side of the planet.” 

“Do not worry yourself with the warbird,” one of the Pajahni said. 

“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” the pilot growled back at the android, completing the pre-launch checks and pausing the cross himself. “Hang on!” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Red light bathed the Bridge, standing the back of Riker’s uniform to match his turtleneck. He lounged in the command chair, pondering the Kzinti dreadnought that hung in space before them. He considered getting rid of the Kzinti-prrt. It was a tempting thought. A thought that would make sure that they all lived, but Maguire’s presence to his right warned him that preempting the Captain wouldn’t get him very far. 

“Load quantum torpedoes,” he told Polcheny. “Target their main reactors.” 

The doors opened behind him and the Captain stepped into view. 

“They’ve got their weapons trained on us,” he told her. “There are four minutes left.” 

“Put Prince Purthas on the viewscreen.” The image of the dreadnought disappeared from the viewer, only to be replaced by Purthas’ face. “The alpha radiation is clearing up. The Kzinti-prrt will be transported aboard your vessel immediately.” The Kzinti royal grunted at her and the screen’s view changed back to the dreadnought. 

“They’ll think of you as weak,” Maguire said softly. 

“They wouldn’t understand,” Pozach said before she left the Bridge. 

The End…

22 – ‘Pressure, a Tale of the Dominion War’

Star Trek: Cayuga

21 – ‘Pressure, a Tale of the Dominion War’

By Jack Elmlinger

Stab.

Vasily Keitsev looked up worriedly from his plate of linguine. 

Stab.

“Is there something on your mind, Captain?” 

Jeanne Pozach looked across her mutilated food. “No,” she said, dropping her left hand onto the table. Keitsev’s eyebrows rose when it clanged against the glass tabletop. She pulled the sleeve of her uniform up to reveal an obsidian bracer. “They’ve been sending me subspace updates, every six hours with proposals for the spaceports, congratulations from the saplings…” 

“The Anurans?” 

“Yes, the Anurans.” She rested her chin on her hand and stared at the bracer. “I haven’t taken this thing off in two weeks.” 

Keitsev looked at the bracer. “It looks heavy.” 

“It is.” 

The door chimes rang and the doors slid open with a whoosh to reveal Doctor Moru, Lieutenant Ntannu, and Lieutenant Commander Maguire. As the sight of the former Maquis operative, the chief engineer bristled. 

“I was just going,” he said quickly, pushing himself away from the table. Maguire said nothing but she stood well clear out of his way to the door. “Captain, if you’d like, I can sift through the Anuran messages for you. I’ve got plenty of free time on my hands.” 

“I’ll have them forwarded to you,” agreed the captain. Keitsev nodded at her and stepped outside where Crewman Leung was waiting for him. 

Maguire stared at the door after it had closed behind him. “I thought,” she said,” that maybe, just maybe, that zh’Tali knocking the hell out of him would have made me feel better. You know, vicariously, I think that I was wrong.” 

“Punishing him isn’t going to make him a better person,” Pozach reminded her as she began to clear away the dinner dishes to the replicator. 

“Rabid dogs don’t get any better.” 

Moru quieted her with a touch on her shoulder. “What did you want to talk to us about?,” he asked the Captain. 

“We’re seven hours away from the Lamaari Parish.” Pozach deposited the plates in her replicator and watched them dissolve. “A few hours after we arrive, I’m supposed to be attending a ceremony where I will have to formally return a religious artifact called the Eye of Ejeria.” She turned towards her guests. “I’d like to know why.” 

Ntannu frowned. “Wasn’t that explanation included in the mission report?” 

Pozach sat down in an armchair and gestured towards the soda. “I’d like to hear it from you.” 

Moru sat down carefully. “I’m not sure what we can  tell you that you don’t already know, Captain.” 

“Start at the beginning.” 

“Fine, whatever.” Maguire plunked down onto the soda next to the Bolian doctor. “It was the year 2374, near the end of the second year of the Dominion War…” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Amos Bradley hated the color yellow. It made him look salow and ill. Supposedly, it was a cheery color but he associated it with an overly happy dog — just irritating. His dislike had been a small but undeniable factor in choosing his career path and he had been relieved when he had finally settled onto the command track. 

The Cayuga has been at Yellow Alert for nine days. 

The Saber class starship had departed from Starbase One-Two-Nine, two months earlier, leaving the Fifteenth Fleet before it attacked the Dominion-held world of Rakalla III. They had met up with the USS Crazy House, and the USS Pommern across the Cardassian border. They had slinked and skulked around Cardassian space, slipping past star systems, and dodging enemy patrols. 

Their subterfuge had gone well enough until the seventh week that the Pommern had been spotted by the Jem’hadar and destroyed while drawing attention from the other ships. The Crazy Horse had been destroyed, a week later, while trying to pass through a minefield. The Cayuga had survived and now it was ready to trade Yellow for Red. 

Bradley stepped into the Situation Room, satisfied by the sight of his senior staff, seated and waiting for him. His First Officer, Arinda, looked up from her conversation with Hunter, her bald head catching the light slightly. 

“This journey is almost over,” the Captain said, taking his seat. “What I need to know is, are we ready to do this?” 

After glancing at the rest of the senior staff, Chief Engineer Stern said,” The Cayuga is in prime condition, sir. The Garibaldi and the Blazer are equipped with sensor decoy units which should make them appear as Lamaari patrol craft.” 

“Sickbay is ready for mass casualties,” Doctor Moru commented without any inflections. 

“My security teams are ready,” Lieutenant Ntannu reported,” but our operational strength is at a tenth of what it should be, due to the loss of the Pommern and the Crazy Horse’s security teams, along with members of the 121st aboard the Crazy Horse.” 

Bradley frowned at this revelation. “But are your teams up to this?” 

The Ktarian sucked in a breath and exhaled. “Yes, although, with a much smaller margin of error.”

“What I’d like to know,” Doctor Nabin interjected,” is exactly what we’re doing here?” 

Bradley’s eyes slid over to Commander Arinda and the Deltan took that as her cue. “Four months ago, the Lamaari government signed a nonaggression treaty with the Dominion,” she said, standing up and triggering the monitor display,” and in exchange for protection from hostile neighboring species like the Kzinti, the Dominion can build shipyards and Jem’hadar breeding facilities throughout the Lamaar system. Starfleet Intelligence estimates that in the time that the production centers have been active, they will have built seventeen squadrons of attack ships, a dozen battleships, and bred enough Jem’hadar to crew all of them, four times over.” 

“And we’re supposed to destroy all of these,” Nabin asked, aghast. “On our own?” 

“No, that would be pointless, Doctor,” Arinda said coldly. “The system is defended by sixty vessels of the Lamaari Crusader Fleet and backed up by a squadron of Jem’hadar attack ships.” She manipulated the images on the display screen, producing an image of a massive emerald. “This is the Eye of Ejeria. According to Lamaari legend, this artifact is part of their creator-deity Ejeria, sacrificed to the Lamaari people in order to provide them with insight.” 

Moru leaned forward in his seat. “I don’t think I like where this mission is going.” 

“Our orders are to break into the building where the Eye is kept and to make off with it,” Bradley said. “Starfleet Intelligence believes that if we can prove that the Dominion are incapable of defending them. Then the Lamaari will declare that their treaty is void and demand the removal of all of their personnel and equipment.” 

The silence that met Bradley’s pronouncement was broken by the clicking of Hunter’s mandibles and his translator saying,” And we must only humiliate the Jem’hadar.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire turned the phaser rifle over and over in her hands. “I haven’t fired one of these since the firing range at the Academy.” 

“With any luck, you won’t have to,” Stern said, passing her a tool kit. “Get in and get out.” 

A bosun’s whistle pierced the Shuttle Bay, pulling Maguire’s attention over towards Commander Arinda. “Board the shuttles,” the Deltan ordered. The butterflies in Maguire’s stomach beat their wings harder as she stepped aboard the Blazer. She strapped into her seat and felt a small surge as the shuttlecraft lifted off from the deck. Soon they were in space. 

“Beginning prerecorded chatter,” Ntannu said from the pilot’s seat. “Estimated flight time is five hours.” 

“Do you think there’ll be any puddles?,” Crewman Musker asked while he was checking his phaser rifle. 

“I doubt,” Crewman Fuller answered him,” if there was a Founder in the system, there would be a hell of a lot more ships than twelve attack ships guarding them.” 

“Well, good, because I hate Changelings.” 

“So, we’re supposed to pretend to be a pair of patrol ships?,” Maguire asked, fretting with her hair pins. 

“Indeed, we are,” Fuller replied. 

Maguire frowned while opening her toolbox. She began moving tools into the pouches strapped to her belt. “What happened to the ships that we’re supposed to be impersonating?” 

“The Cayuga destroyed them both just before we launched.” 

“Oh.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Doctor Moru put on another field coat and his breath began to crystallize before him. 

“An-n-nother frostbite case,” Maharjarif said, her teeth chattering as she led Aaron Connelly towards a biobed. “I’m going to need the regenerator.” 

Moru scowled and activated the monitor in his office. “Moru to Bradley.” 

“I assume that you’re calling to complain about the cold, Doctor?” The Captain’s impatient tone did nothing relieve the Bolian or his mood. 

“I’ve had eight people come into Sickbay with frostbite to their extremities. Ensign Sayvok might have lost a toe already.” 

Bradley sighed, blowing out a cloud of condensed air before him. “Doctor, I’m just as cold as everyone else on this ship. In another few hours, we’ll be able to power back up.” Moru turned off the connection and returned to Maharjarif. 

Silent and unseen, the Cayuga tumbled through space, bound inside the heart of a comet. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Commander Arinda glanced at the Lamaari capital city that passed below the shuttlecraft. The Lamaari had expected them to land near the defense citadel, a few kilometers away. What the Lamaari expected and what would be happening were two different things. 

“Load micro-torpedoes,” she ordered. 

Behind her, Crewman Beckley muttered,” I thought that Deltans were pacifists.” 

Arinda stiffened at his remark. “No,” she told him,” we’re optimistically pragmatic. Fire.” 

The shuttles flew over the citadel, leaving behind the roar of explosions and the screams of the surprised and the dying. 

“We’ve disabled all of the interceptors on standby,” Ensign Nye reported from the Blazer. “Reliquary in forty-five seconds.” 

“Prep up!,” the Deltan First Officer shouted over her shoulder. “Land in front of the entrance, aft towards the door.” 

When the Garibaldi touched down, Harker and Dixon opened fire from the rear hatch. Their phaser rifle blasts cut down half a dozen Lamaari. 

“They’re all missing an eye,” Harker said incredulously. 

“That’s because they’re priests,” Beckley said as the Blazer set down beside the Garibaldi, effectively plugging up the opening. No one would be entering the shrine from the courtyard that surrounded it. 

“Five minutes!,” Ntannu reminded Stern and Maguire as the engineers stepped over the Lamaari corpses in their way. “Musker and Fuller, stay with them!” A blast of purple energy forced him to seek cover. 

“Jem’hadar!,” Nye yelled. Musker grunted as an energy blast struck him in his chest. He collapsed, already dead before he struck the ground. 

Stern, Maguire, and Fuller ran towards the shrine. The building was shaped like a six-sided star and the Eye was mounted on a dais at its center. They sprinted towards it, a priest chattering in their language and warding them off with his hands until Fuller gunned him down. 

Maguire stepped over the priest’s body and took the stairs, three steps at a time, her heart banging against her rib cage. “Stern, come on!” She stared up at the Eye that was suspended in a force field, thirty feet overhead, before she crouched down to begin working on the mechanism recessed into the floor. 

“He killed the priest,” Stern growled as he stepped past her and pried an access panel open. 

“And there are a lot of worse things than Fuller out there, waiting to do the same to us!” 

“Get that thing on the ground,” the Chief Engineer replied to her. “I’ll take down its defensive fields.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Did you hear that?” 

Ntannu didn’t spare a glance at Dixon. Movement flickered in the corner of his eye and the Ktarian fired without any warning, blasting the Jem’hadar off of its feet. 

“It’s a Lamaari priest,” Arinda shouted into the sudden silence, leading around the Garibaldi’s nose with a small surveillance device in her hands. “He’s telling the First — no, the Vorta — that weapons can’t be used inside the reliquary.” 

“Ah, hell,” was Nye’s response to this information. 

The Jem’hadars’ rifles clattered down to the ground and their owners disappeared inside their shrouds.

Nye died suddenly as his head was twisted around by a monster that vanished a moment later. Arinda fired across the space that it had occupied, forcing it back into visibility. She could see Stern, Fuller, and Maguire racing across the courtyard towards the shuttles, carrying the Eye between them. 

A blow to the face knocked Ntannu off of his feet. He twisted to one side as he fell, avoiding the kick that he knew was coming for him. He rolled back onto his feet with a combat knife in his hand. A Jem’hadar soldier shimmered into sight, striking past his guards and cracking one of his ribs. 

Dixon saw something blur towards Stern and Maguire. He ran over to intercept the Jem’hadar soldier, surprising it with a mighty smash from the butt of his phaser rifle. It fell to the ground, unconscious or dead, he couldn’t tell. He hurried after the engineers, firing wildly at a Jem’hadar rushing towards the wounded Beckley. 

“Fall back!,” Commander Arinda shouted, firing her hand phaser upon a Jem’hadar as it moved around the shuttlecraft. “Dixon, Fuller, get the engineers into the air!” She backed inside the shuttle, laying down cover fire for Harker as he dragged Beckley towards the hatch, smoke trailing from the wound on his chest. 

Stern hit the shuttle’s ramp and he didn’t stop running, throwing himself into the pilot’s seat. Maguire swung the Eye inside as Ntannu, beaten, bloody, and victorious, collapsed onto the ramp. As she reached for the injured Security Chief, a roaring Jem’hadar appeared out of nowhere, its fist pulled back to deliver a killing blow. 

Maguire fired her phaser at it. 

Fuller and Dixon pounded their way up the ramp, grabbing Ntannu and pulling him inside. The shuttle lifted off before any of them could find their seats. Maguire looked up from the floor, surprised to find blood that wasn’t her own on her clothes.

“That’s all there is to it?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Harker lifted the shuttle up through the sky and broke the sound barrier in under a second. “We’ll be out of the atmosphere in less than a minute.” 

Arinda accepted this information with a nod as she examined Beckley. His right arm appeared to be shattered and the pink foam around his mouth suggested that he had a punctured lung. The shuttle stank from his melted uniform and his seared flesh. “Any sign of the Cayuga?” 

“Not yet, Commander,” Harker said as the sky darkened into space,” but we are running a few seconds ahead of schedule.” 

Arinda nodded and reached for the medical kit, freezing up as her hand touched a foreign object. She pulled it into view and it was a dark, metallic globe with evenly-spaced lavender lights. 

“Oh, no,” she said dejectedly,” that’s not fair at all.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Once they had left the atmosphere of the planet, there was no medium through which the noise of the explosion could be transmitted but Stern saw it on the shuttlecraft’s sensors, all the same. 

“We just lost the Blazer.” 

 Dixon brought up a sensor display from his place at the co-pilot’s station. “Three Lamaari corvettes are altering course after us and every Jem’hadar ship in the system is being sent to intercept us.” 

“They won’t shoot us down,” Crewman Fuller said, holding Ntannu still as Maguire did her best to patch up the Ktarian’s wounds. “They still need that Eye back.” 

“It’s a small comfort,” Stern cried. “Here they come!” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“The Garibaldi has broken orbit and there are three Lamaari ships after them.” Doctor Nabin’s voice was muffled through the thick scarf that he was wearing. 

Captain Bradley pounded his armrest since they weren’t ready yet. “Engineering!,” he shouted. “Bring us back on-line!” 

Behind the large engineering console, Zehna fought to work his panel through the cold frost. “Warp core and impulse engineers are warming up from cold standby,” the Bajoran reported over the intercom. “Life-support is re-engaged. Power to the navigational deflector, weapons and shields –” 

“Hunter, get us out of this cage,” Bradley interrupted him. 

The comet, known on Lamaar for its forty-six year orbit, shattered into pieces as red-orange phaser fire lanced out from its core. It sublimed underneath its assault and the Cayuga roared out from the debris. 

“Take out those corvettes,” the captain snapped at his Bridge crew. The ship shuddered slightly as Hunter unleashed a salvo of torpedoes. Mercilessly, they punched through the eerie blue mist projected around the Lamaari hulls, tossing the ships around like toys. 

“Forty-five seconds until the first Jem’hadar striker comes into range,” Doctor Nabin announced from Ops. 

“Tell the Garibaldi that they’ve got half of that time!,” Bradley barked, watching the Jem’hadar ships appear on the scanners. 

The Bridge lurched forward, nearly tossing Bradley out of his chair and into the helm console. “The shuttle’s aboard,” Nabin announced. “Structural damage to the Shuttle Bay.” The ship rocked again but this time, it came from weapons fire. 

“Forward shields are at seventy percent!,” Hunter clicked, busy twisting the ship away. 

Struggling to keep his place in his seat, the Captain yelled,” Hunter, stretch our legs!” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Despite whatever she might be feeling or thinking, Jeanne Pozach was leaning forward in her armchair. “Naturally, you escaped.” She shook her head. “What I don’t understand about this mission is how it became permissible to steal an alien religious artifact.” 

“Take a longer view at it,” Maguire suggested to her. “Yeah, we did a bad thing, but because of that mission, the Lamaari shut down every Dominion production center and shipyard in their system. Stalling out even that little bit of their war machine helped us in the end.” 

“Nearly twenty thousand Lamaari were killed by the Jem’hadar during the uprising.” 

“None of us liked it, Jeanne,” Moru said reasonably. “If we could have talked the Lamaari into abandoning the Dominion, then we would have but that wasn’t an option.” 

Pozach considered all of this. “I’d like you to join me on the surface.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The away team materialized into the reliquary’s courtyard. Lieutenant Ntannu quickly inventoried the forces surrounding them. There were snipers on the roofs of the nearby buildings, force fields around the shrine itself, and two or three hundred infantry soldiers arranged in a ring formation. 

Captain Pozach approached the first row of soldiers, struggling to carry the crate that contained the Eye. their ranks parted aside for a cadre of one-eyed priests. She offered the crate to them and they reverently accepted it from her as one. She coughed and the priests turned their cycloptic gazes upon her. 

“I’m sorry,” she began to say but the priests disappeared into the mass of soldiers. Pozach turned back to Maguire, Ntannu, and Moru who she found to be as unimpressed with her entreaty as the Lamaari had been. 

The End…

21 – ‘Pozach Rex’

Star Trek: Cayuga

21 – ‘Pozach Rex’

By Jack Elmlinger

Jeanne Pozach stepped through the Galaxy. 

For a moment, it swirled around her with stars of yellow and white floating like stellar dust mites. Tiny purple nebula parting across like mist. Then someone cleared their throat and she regretfully returned her attention to the command staffs gathered together inside the holographic illusion. 

“This is a graphic representation of the data found in the cave attached to the Quernus installation,” said T’Priss, the Juneau’s Vulcan science officer. 

“I call it the Alzok room,” Aimee Maguire said with false bravado. She had only been released from Sickbay aboard the Cayuga, a few days ago. 

T’Priss ignored the comment. “Taking stellar drift into account, it would seem that this is an atlas of our Galaxy as it appeared, two hundred thousand years ago.” She tapped at her PADD and the map reacted as if a box of paints had been thrown over it. “It is lacking all but the most basic of astronomical detail. Otherwise, it would appear to be a political map.” 

Brandon Hobbes took the PADD from her. “In our two weeks of study, we have been able to make a few determinations.” Every color disappeared except for the green. “Each color denotes the boundaries of a different political entity and the green, which covers nearly the entire galaxy, was based in the star system that we now know to be Iconia.” 

“Demons of Air and Darkness,” Captain M’Roaki breathed reverently. “The Iconian Empire.” 

“We’ve been able to identify a few of the others,” T’Priss said, continuing with the briefing. “Inside of what is now known as Federation space, it seems that there had been an affiliation based on Talos IV and in the Gamma Quadrant. A culture that we believe could have been early Verathan.” 

“How about something a little closer to us?,” Sean Pasko asked her from his spot where he was leaning against the holodeck’s grid-marked walls. 

T’Priss continued with her presentation, ignoring the pilot’s request. “At the moment, we are in the region which had been controlled by the amber affiliation.” The map’s colors altered accordingly. “The amber affiliation is unique by the way that it had seven capitals and one of them appears to once have been Quernus. From this information, we conclude that it is a coalition of powers. It extends out past Trill in a spinward direction and well into unknown space. 

Tom Riker approached the map. “When the Borg found us here,” he said, pointing at a section of the holographic map,” they said that they were investigating the Demedra outpost.” 

“It is reasonable to assume that ‘Demedra’ was the title of the coalition.” 

“This is an incredible opportunity,” M’Roaki said. “Captain Pozach, I’d like to take the Juneau ahead to investigate the first few of these worlds. With our runabout, we should be able to cover extra ground. Meanwhile, the Cayuga can stay behind and handle the chores with the locals.” 

Pozach nodded slightly in agreement. “That makes sense.” 

Pasko’s eyes lit up with an idea. “You know, if you’re going out on a runabout mission, you’ll need a top-rate pilot,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall. “With Captain Pozach’s permission, I would be happy to do it.” 

M’Roaki frowned. “We have plenty of good pilots aboard the Juneau.” 

“Good ones, sure.” 

“Fine. I’d rather keep my officers aboard.” The Caitian looked over at her counterpart. “Pozach?” 

Pozach was surprised by Pasko’s insistence. However, she reasoned that a year of simple supply missions must have been boring for him. “As long as we can have you back,” she said affectionately.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

With all the grace of a coordinated panic seizure, Alice Polcheny burst into Sean’s quarters. “You’re leaving?!,” she cried at him. 

Sean and Aimee looked up from their packing. “I’m sorry that it’s so sudden. It was a spur of the moment thing.” 

“Do you want the cross?,” Aimee asked him, glancing up between the crucifix on the wall and the space that was left over in his duffel bag. 

“But you’ll be gone for months!,” Alice said, wrapping her arms around him. 

“It’s a few weeks, at the moment,” he said, disentangling himself from her. “I’ll keep that here.” He hefted the bag over his shoulder and looked back at Alice. “Would you like to walk me to the transporter room?” She threw herself onto the bed, pouting. With a sigh, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “All right, I’ll see you in a few weeks. I love you.” 

Aimee watched the door close behind him and she sat down on the bed beside the younger woman. “Alice,” she said, nudging her. “Come on, it’s not that bad. He’ll be back.” Alice remained stonily silent as the blonde woman continued,” Look, the Cayuga’s docked at the old Cardassian space station in orbit of Anura while Jeanne does her diplomatic thing.” 

“So?,” a small voice asked her. 

“It’s a space station on the frontier where life is hard and vices are abundant.” Aimee nodded. “They’ll have a bar there.” 

Alice looked up at her. “What do we do there?” 

Aimee stared back at her blankly before she realized that she wasn’t joking. “We get ourselves dressed up and look pretty. Then the other people will say,’ Wow, they look pretty.’”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun.” The redhead sat up and Aimee smiled at her encouragingly.

A quick turbolift ride deposited them on Deck Seven a short walk from Alice’s quarters. “We’re going to the bar,” she announced to her roommate, Tajin. The Horrusi glanced up, showing perfunctory interest before she returned to her reading. 

“I don’t go out to bars very often,” Alice continued to Aimee’s lack of surprise,” so I’m not sure what to wear.” 

Aimee opened the closet. “You want something eye-catching that..” She stared at all of the dressing hung up in the closet before her. “Sun dresses? All you own is sun dresses?” 

“I like the orange one.” 

Rubbing her forehead, she stepped back from the closet. “Okay, I’m going to go get dressed. You… pick out a good headband or something.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“The Anuran government is a constitutional monarchy,” Captain Pozach muttered to herself. “Their monarch is referred to as ‘Glorious’” She was sitting on one of the benches in the back of the Garibaldi, studying the PADD on her lap. First Contact with the Anurans was supposed to be Captain M’Roaki’s mission but with her and the Juneau gallivanting after the ancient Demedra, she had to fill in for him. 

She looked ahead towards the cockpit at Ntannu who was flying the shuttle over the clouds. “Did you know that the Anurans communicate through a sophisticated pheromone system? No vocal language at all.” 

He spent a moment absorbed in his control panel before he simply said,” No.” 

Pozach frowned at his flat tone. “Is there something wrong?” 

“The Demedra coalition, Captain. I don’t think that we should be chasing after them.” 

Slowly, she moved her PADD onto the bench beside her. “We’re explorers, Ntannu, and sometimes that’s dangerous business.” 

“Tell that to Novack.” The Ktarian shook his head. “The Alzok killed him with his mind. See, I believe in Starfleet as an exploration corps. I really do. I also believe that there are things out there that shouldn’t be angered. The Alzok and anything that’s associated with it was some of those things that we shouldn’t anger.” 

“What… What did it show you?” 

Silence stretched out between them until he said,” We’re coming up on the landing coordinates.” 

The shuttlecraft nestled down gently between two towering arches that were made out of pearly stone. “Glorious,” Pozach repeated, nervously fidgeting with the pheromone device attached to her belt. The rear hatch dropped open and she preceded Ntannu down the ramp, leading him past several low structures that were carved out of the same pinkish stone. 

“What aren’t they here to greet us?,” the Security Chief asked her with surprise and concern mixing together in his voice. The captain noticed that his hand strayed to where his hand phaser would have been holstered. 

A small purple head peeked up over one of the structures, staring down upon them with unblinking silver-hued eyes. Pozach turned towards the creature and it darted back down. A second later, it timidly stepped out from behind a wall, its small nose sniffing at them. 

She knelt down to eye level with the humanoids. “Hello,” she said, smelling as her words were translated into lilac and rain. The little creature turned around and ran a few steps, pausing so it could motion for them to follow it. It darted ahead of them, waiting for them just outside a copse of trees. 

Pozach and Ntannu stopped at a respectable distance from the trees. She opened up her arms and said warmly,” I’m Captain Jeanne Pozach of the Cayuga, representing the United Federation of Planets.” The scent of her words were like wet grass and soap. 

There was a lot of rustling through the tree with more of the silver-eyed creatures shifting from branch to branch. The ground underneath the trees rolled around the centermost one. Roots erupted from the rich soil, supporting the tree as it moved forward. 

A collection of branches descended, each of them possessing a sensory organ. A stink arose and the translator said,” Fair tidings, Captain Jeanne Pozach of the Federation.” The tree stood seven feet tall from root to lavender leaf, a pungent scent wafting down from its leaves. “I am Skt. The Glorious has asked that I guide you to it.” 

“Thank you,” Pozach said, following as the Anuran rotated on its roots and glided away. Ntannu fell into step behind her, keeping a careful eye on the other Anurans and the purple primates that trailed after them. The landscape of this world struck Jeanne as familiar and similar to Intooine, which had an unnatural quiet and peace to it. Rolling hills were broken up by small shelters and massive archways. Lush green and violet grasses carpeted the ground and her boots sank into the rich, moist earth. 

Pozach could see the Glorious well before they reached it. Its branches waved gently, almost thirty feet above the ground, and it had planted itself at the center of a half-circle of arches. Many small Anurans surrounded it. The mixture of scents overpowered the translator, producing a dull tone. 

The smells faced away from the air and a new smell emerged from the Glorious. “Jeanne Pozach,” it said,” I am grateful that you chose to visit us.” 

“My pleasure, Glorious.” The Glorious was too large to consider in all of its entirety and she had to focus on one small part of it at a time. “With me is my comrade, Lieutenant Ntannu.” 

“Greetings to you as well, Lieutenant Ntannu.” The Glorious’ eyestalks turned towards the Anuran surrounding it. “I will order the Captain our proposal alone if you please.” The entire grove rose as one entity and glided away from the arches. Fascinated by them, the Cayuga’s captain watched them until the Glorious’ scent returned her attention to it. “I apologize for my peoples’ attitude. They are not accustomed to privacy or … hasty activity.” 

Pozach glanced after the departing beings, wondering what she had missed. “No offense taken.” 

“Word of your Federation has spread far and wide across the Sea of Stars. Its people are said to be made up of many noble beings.” 

“I’m delighted that news of our good works has reached this far.” 

“Many seasons ago, we were visited by a race that called themselves ‘Cardassians’. They cared not for us and we cared not for them but our relations with them were civil. They constructed the space station in the skies above our world but they abandoned it some time ago.” The Glorious shifted its branches, altering the patterns of light and dark upon its leaves. “That space station left us as a power among our neighboring planets but it is a power that we do not understand. It is my wish that Anura join your Federation of Planets, using it as a model or a guide.” 

Although she had already anticipated the question being asked of her, Pozach felt a thrill of exhalation as the words emerged from her translator. “It’s not an immediate process,” she cautioned it, hiding her glee. “There are diplomatic and cultural exchanges. We also want to be certain that the Anurans feel that this is the best move for them as a race.” 

A scent of agreement descended from the Glorious. “Of course, Captain, and then we shall begin the coronation process as soon as the full Grove can be convened.” 

“Of course,” Pozach repeated happily in agreement before the meaning of the word ‘coronation’ pierced her consciousness. “Wait. What?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, where was the Juneau during the war?” 

Sean Pasko’s feet were perched up on the edge of the table in the runabout’s small lounge. Survek, Sayvok, and Jacqueline Yeager glanced up from their diversions. 

“I graduated after the war,” said Yeager. 

“The Juneau served as a monitoring and reconnaissance vessel in the Third Fleet,” Survek said, still strumming at his lyre. 

“The Third Fleet? So you folks were around for Operations: Return?” Survek nodded and Pasko continued the conversation. “I was there aboard the Venture. I thought that it was insane when Captain Sisko gave the order to charge the Dominion lines, but I fought. When the battle was done, it was the Jem’hadar running and not us for once.” 

“Starfleet was victorious,” Survek agreed with him.

“How long until planetfall?,” Yeager asked, glancing out at the stars streaking past their small vessel. 

“Eight or nine hours, at least.” 

“Perhaps it would be wise to use this time to rest,” Survek suggested. 

Sayvok watched as Pasko and Yeager left the lounge. Survek remained behind to watch his fellow Vulcan.

“I wish to speak with you, regarding a matter of logic, Commander,” Sayvok said and when the older Vulcan nodded back at him, he continued,” I find that my body makes demands of me that are illogical.” 

“Please elaborate.” 

“My sexual attraction cues are misplaced. When I first entered pon farr, I… lusted not after my selected mate, but after a male. Since then, there has been no change.” He shifted in his seat, very nearly allowing him to have a facial expression. “If sexual activity does not result in procreation, then it has no purpose. Therefore, it is illogical.” 

“Logic is a tool, Sayvok, and a method of analyzing and explaining the world around us. When it is used to defend an outdated paradigm, then it is wasted.” 

“I do not understand.” 

“Consider plomeek soup. There are chefs who spend their lifetimes, perfecting the flavor.” 

“You relate my sexual preference to soup?” 

“What use is there in perfecting soup? Or in the statues at the foothills of Mount Seleya?” Sayvok frowned his frustration but Survek continued with his explanation. “These things serve no ‘logical’ purpose but then, love never does.” 

“I believe I see,” Sayvok said, rising up from his seat. “I have much to meditate on.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Look’t her,” Sam Dixon slurred his words. “Jus’ look’t her. Trampin’ it up in th’ bar.” He looked around the table with a glassy look in his eyes. “I think she’s hittin’ on Polcheny.” 

Across the darkened, alcohol-soaked table, Tom Riker and Brandon Hobbes traded knowing glances over Roslyn Collier’s head. “Polcheny is the one person the Aimee won’t touch,” Aaron Connelly said with a scowl. “Not while she’s going out with Pasko.” 

Dixon pondered that statement slowly. “Yeah,” he said finally,” I know that. S’ who’s next?” 

Riker sighed at the familiar scene. “What you have to keep in mind, Dixon, about women like Aimee,” he began to say as he refilled the security officer’s drink,” is that they’re capricious. It’s not about you. It’s about her.” 

“I was going to marry her.” 

“That anathema to her, Sam,” the First Officer said with false sympathy, pushing the drink across the table. 

Collier touched Dixon’s hand lightly, pulling his attention to her. “She’s just not a good person to trust a heart with. First, Aaron, then the Captain, and now you…” 

Hobbes stifled a chuckle at the expression that clouded Riker’s face as he stared down at Collier’s hand. “Women can be trouble if you let them,” he said, reclaiming her. “Never forget that, Sam.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire was dressed to kill. 

Her little black dress clung to her body in all of the right places, and her hair was down for once, free of any hair pins or braids. She would have dressed like this on her own but Alice Polcheny’s dropped jaw had a way to make it fun that has been in a while. 

Every eye in the bar was on her and she was loving it. 

She led Alice to the bar. “Everyone’s staring at us,” the younger woman whispered to her, waving tentatively to her shipmates through the gloom that was unique to Cardassian-made establishments. 

“Of course, they are. That’s a very becoming print that you’re wearing,” Aimee replied. “Order something and make yourself comfortable.” 

An alien sitting at the bar turned his head and grinned at Aimee. The short cilia that covered his skin shifted as he moved. “Hey, baby,” he said, tugging at the collar of his vacuum suit,” I’m a spaceman.” 

“Spiffy.” She directed the bartender to the spacer. “He’s buying me a drink.” 

“And I’ll have one of those,” Alice added, pointing at a random bottle. 

Aimee turned back to the spacer. “Do you have a name, spaceman?” 

“S’a’wasa.” 

Aimee studied the patterns of cilia growing around his orange eyes. 

“Ah, I see that you do not recognize my kind.” His voice lowered to a theoretically seductive pitch. “We are known throughout the quadrant as… incredible lovers.” Aimee snorted derisively but he continued,” But you… I do not recognize your species.” 

“I’m a Human,” she replied easily,” from the Alpha Centauri system.” 

“Ah, a Human. The most prolific race in the Galaxy behind Tribbles. It speaks well of your mating practices.” They shared a laugh. “What brings you so far from your home?” 

Aimee gestured around the room. “My comrades and I… we’re Starfleet.” 

S’a’wasa’s orange eyes flared and for a moment, Aimee allowed the world to shrink away to just the two of them. Then he peered past her and asked,” Has your friend never tried Janx Spirit before?” 

“Are you kidding me? She can’t even handle a damned daiquiri — “ Realization dawned upon her and she spun around to see Alice calmly making a hat out of a basket of legumes. 

“I am the Queen of France,” she said serenely, knocking over her empty glass with an encompassing gesture. 

Aimee pitched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, hell…” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pozach stalked over to one end of her Ready Room and glowered. “No,” she muttered before she spun around on one heel and crossed over to the other wall. She stared at it until the door chimes rang. 

“Enter!,” she barked. The doors slid apart and a somewhat surprised Commander Riker stepped into the room. “Sit down,” she said quickly, forcing herself to perch herself down on the chair behind her desk. “The Anurans have declared me Glorious.” 

For a second, he didn’t react to this news. He merely dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“Commander, is there something here that you find funny?,” she demanded, leaning over her desk.

“Not at all,” he said, hiding a smirk behind a cough. 

“I need you to go over every precedent. Every First Contact and every interpretation of the Prime Directive. I need… background information. I need to know how I can handle this.” 

“How do you think you should handle it?” 

She stared back at him with a blank glare. “Just get me the precedents.” 

Riker left the Ready Room without any additional comments and she turned to her desktop monitor. Though the Anurans had no concept of media and a limited system of interplanetary communications, someone on the surface had been going to great lengths to ensure that she was kept up to date. She scrolled through pages of plans for her coronation before slapping the screen off. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pasko threw a hand over his eyes. “It’s so bright,” he moaned, stumbling his way through the runabout’s hatch. He felt Yeager press a pair of sunglasses into his hands and he slipped them on over his eyes. He had landed the ship in a wide valley hewn from craggy red rock. A few scrubby bushes provided a small hint of green. 

“This used to be somebody’s capital? Was it inhabited at all?” 

“Sensors have detected that there is a network of underground tunnels and caves,” Survek informed him. 

“It’s not our place to judge another race,” Yeager said, scanning in a slow circle with her tricorder. “There’s an entrance over there.” 

The away team walked over into the cool shade of a cave. Within a hundred feet upon entering it, they had to light up the palm beacons on their wrists. Further exploration uncovered a door that was built into the rocky wall. 

“The technology appears to match a similarity to the technology used on both the space installation and the installation on Quernus,” Sayvok said. “There is no security on that door.” He entered a command into his tricorder and the door slid into the floor. Survek led them into the turbolift that was revealed upon their entry. The lift moved smoothly downward.

Yeager beamed at this. “This is such an opportunity. We could be unearthing a civilization that no one has seen for the last two hundred thousand years.” 

“Or another Alzok,” Pasko said as he fingering his phaser. 

Yeager ignored him pointedly. “I wonder what they could have left for us. Pottery? Ancient correspondence?,” she asked as the lift slowed down to a halt. “Maybe tools of some sort?” She stepped out of the lift and stopped in her tracks. 

The turbolift had released the away team into a room that was, perhaps, a thousand feet wide. Hundreds of doorways lined the walls that stretched out in front of them. Neither the scale, nor the grandeur of what the away team found captured their attention as thoroughly as the three dozen humanoids clustered together in the middle of the room. 

“Romulans!,” Pasko hissed, reaching for his phaser. 

“Lieutenant,” Survek said, his voice freezing the pilot in his tracks. Stepping in front of the away team, the Vulcan said,” Peace and long life. I am Commander Survek of the Federation starship Juneau.” 

One of the Romulans offered the commander a curt bow. “Live long and prosper, Cousin. I am Varan, commander of the Imperial warbird Havraha.” 

“I trust that our mutual interest in this world is not accidental?” 

“We are following the map donated to us by our allies.” He glanced at Pasko’s and Yeager’s surprised faces. “The Senate believed that our own exploration of this world was necessary. There was some doubt among the senators that Starfleet would share its findings with us.” 

“Starfleet is dedicated to peaceful exploration,” Yeager said. “We have only kinship with other explorers.” 

“Come on now, Ensign, I too am a patriot.” Varan smiled at her. “Well, politics aside, you are here now. Perhaps we can work together?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The rolling hills of Anura replaced the transporter room and Pozach nodded to the massive being that appeared before her. “Glorious, thank you for seeing me.” 

“Anything that will ease your ascension,” the Glorious said, its branches bouncing slightly as the small violet creatures scampered to and fro around them.

“I ask you to reconsider crowning me,” she said after taking a deep breath and exhaling it. “I already have a number of responsibilities with my crew and my ship.” 

The Glorious rustled its leaves. “Captain Pozach,” her translator spoke to her,” it had been four years since Ferengi entrepeneurs sold faster-than-light technology to us, and since then, the Cardassians placed the space station in orbit before they abandoned it. In that time, we have been exploring the possibilities that this newfound Galaxy can offer us. Exploring slowly but exploring nonetheless.” 

Pozach opened her mouth to interject but the Glorious interrupted her with a stench. 

“There are too many possibilities, Jeanne Pozach. Too many of me to comprehend or control. I wish that I never allowed the Cardassians to place their space station over our world. If I had been more aware, I would not have. This ignorance will doom the Anuran people. We must have a guide.” 

“It can’t be me,” she said desperately. “I can’t fulfill the duties of a Starfleet officer and those of Glorious.” 

“Each Anuran has their own idea of what we should be doing as a race. None of us are tempered by experience. That is why we need you. If you do not help us,” — the Glorious’ branches shuddered, showering Pozach with red-and-golden leaves — ,” we will spread ourselves to the winds.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Silly…” 

Aimee punched her code into the door panel and dragged Alice inside. 

“Hats only silly!,” the younger woman babbled as she was pushed onto one of the beds. “Wait… silly hats only!” 

“Shut up already,” the engineer muttered, dropping Alice’s headband on the dresser. Scowling, she tugged at the wrinkled mess of her gown. “Wreck of a good evening is what it is. I can’t wait until you wake up with the feeling that you’ve been knocked in the head with a slice of lemon wrapped around a large brick of gold-pressed latinum.” 

“Hey… where’s the guy?,” Alice asked her, rolling in bed as she wrapped the blankets around her. 

“What guys?,” she asked her, tugging off Alice’s shoes. 

Alice wiggled her toes. “The guy with the orange eyes… and-and the crawly skin. Weren’t you going to sleep with him?” 

“What?! No.” 

“But they were talking to him.” 

“All right, that’s it.” Aimee stood up. “You and Joe and Jeanne and everyone else, understand this! I enjoy pleasure. I enjoy sex! It makes me feel good and if the people that I’m with aren’t on the same page with me, then I feel sorry for them. My sexuality is a part of me. Why should I deny it?” She turned back angrily, eager for a response. 

Alice lay hanging over the side of the bed, her tongue rolling out of her mouth. 

Aimee pressed her fingers against her eyes and sighed. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“We suspect that a number of the Alzok resided here,” the Romulan science officer explained, indicating the bars mounted into the walls and ceiling. “The  computer records are fragmented, but they indicate that this was once a bustling city occupied by, at least, six different races.” 

Varan held up a Romulan-style PADD for the away team’s benefit. “Observe,” he said as he activated it. On the small screen, a large room that was filled with aliens appeared. Tall, slender aliens with back-canted legs conversed amongst themselves, briefly obscured by the fleshy mass of an Alzok swinging by them. 

“Fascinating,” Survek said. 

“Unfortunately, after two hundred thousand years, there is very little biological evidence remaining,” commented the scientist. 

Varan opened one of the many doors that was recessed into the corridor wall. “I’ll have a centurion bring you the information that we’ve been able to gather so far. In the meantime, please feel free to examine this room. We have found several well-preserved artifacts that lead us to believe that they were used for recreation.” 

The door closed behind the Romulan subcommander and Pasko scowled. “Tomb raiders. We should have the Juneau come to chase them off.” 

“We have no particular claim to enforce, Lieutenant,” Survek disagreed with him. “It is unfortunate that the Romulans have arrived here before us. However, we must move forward from here.” 

Sayvok knelt down to examine a stool that had been built for back-canted legs. He rotated his head slowly before he looked up at Survek.

“I hear it as well,” the elder Vulcan said, taking a step forward. 

“Hear what?,” Yeager asked him. 

Sayvok and Survek began tearing into a pile of debris, tossing artifacts aside of them, left and right. They stopped abruptly and Pasko pushed in between them. 

“That looks an awful lot like an explosive.” 

“Disable it,” Survek ordered Sayvok. 

Pasko bolted towards the door, slamming it when it wouldn’t open for him. He stabbed at the controls to no avail before he punched at the door in frustration and fear. “We’re locked inside!” 

Yeager dragged over a cabinet and another on top of the explosive, forming a barrier. 

“I cannot disable the device,” Sayvok said, shoving the explosive away from him. The whine had become more audible to Pasko and he winced as he helped Yeager push one more last cabinet into place. 

Sayvok leaped over the cabinets and the pilot pulled him to the ground as the explosive device detonated with a mighty roar. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The sky over Anura was deep-green and warm breezes carried over the scent of the earth. The sweet birdsong of lavender doves completed a scene that would have been completely and utterly idyllic, if not for the sense of impending doom creeping over Captain Pozach. 

“The Prime Directive doesn’t really apply here,” Commander Riker was saying, oblivious to his commanding officer’s mounting distress. “The Anurans are a warp-capable civilization so we’re allowed to interact with them. They’ve asked you to become their leader. It’s not like you’re forcing them to accept you.” 

Pozach scowled with rage and began pacing. Doctor Moru stepped into her path, forcing her to stop. A new scent filled the air and she turned to face the Anurans. With her chief medical officer and first officer walking behind her, she stepped into the shade of the Glorious. 

“There comes a time,” the Glorious said through the translator on her belt,” when the experiences of a leader are no longer sufficient to shepherd the Grove when the Grove requires one of experience to germinate into a new guide.

“Jeanne Pozach, will you be that guide?” 

“Glorious, I shall.” 

“Join us, Jeanne Pozach,” the Glorious said and she stepped deeper into its shadow. It raised one of its branchy tendrils before her, bringing an obsidian band into view. “This bracer has identified the Glorious for uncounted centuries. Since we first came together as a Grove, there has been but one.” The tendril shook until the band came loose, falling down to the ground with a slam. “Until this day. Out of respect for your Human identity, our finest stoneworkers have crafted this replica, scaling to your grasping appendage.” Another tentacle unfurled from it and Pozach took a jet black bracer. “Glorious, we revere your guidance.” 

Pozach slipped her arm into the bracer, sagging at its weight. “And it is my hope that I will be able to help to better the Grove,” — she turned to face the other Anurans more fully — ,” but while I am  experienced in the ways of the Galaxy, I am not experienced in the ways of the Anurans. For this reason, I appoint Skt as my regent, to rule in my stead while I am gone.” The Anuran creaked and she pressed on,” You have asked me for my guidance in this Galaxy but you don’t need me to tell you how to live your lives here.” 

Different scents flooded the clearing, overwhelming the translator but Pozach felt the confusion of the many Anurans around her. Their scents jetted back and forth before they finally settled. Skt rolled out of the soil and approached her. 

“This… removed form of leadership is new to us,” it said,” but it is your will and it shall be done.” Skt offered its tendrils to her in submission. “Glorious.” 

The End…

20 – ‘Old Things’

Star Trek: Cayuga

20 – ‘Old Things’ 

By Jack Elmlinger

With a small sigh of relief, Aimee Maguire stripped off her three rank pips, her combadge, and finally her uniform jacket. She dropped them down onto the couch before she plunked down at the table. “So what’s for dinner?,” she asked. 

“Crepes,” Sean Pasko said, setting a plateful of them onto the table. “I’m told that they don’t have any snails in them.” 

“Snails,” Jeanne Pozach repeated admonishingly. “I lived in Paris for thirteen years and I’ll have you know that they make excellent escargots.” She sat down and helped herself to a crepe. “How’re things in Engineering?” 

“Fenzel came over from the Juneau,” Aimee said as she began to unbraid her hair. “He gave me a few tips for tweaking our sensors.” 

“OH, Alice had an idea,” Pasko said over a forkful of crepe. “She wanted to go on a double date with you and Sam. She said that she found a nice holoprogram aboard the Juneau.” 

Maguire frowned at the suggestion. “Sam? I told him that it was over between us, weeks ago. I’m game though if you want to make it a threesome.” Pozach stifled a laugh and the engineer continued,” Did she ever talk to you? Because while we were down on Gianwu II, she was all, ‘Sean this’ and ‘Sean that’.” 

“I don’t think that’s appropriate for dinner conversation. That or threesomes.” 

“Hey, I just wanted to come along, even without Sam. It’s just a word.” 

“Our love life isn’t something that can be treated casually.” 

“It sounds like you gained a girlfriend but you lost your sense of humor.” 

Pasko leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t think that sexuality is a toy.” 

“What was it that you said once?,” Maguire asked him, bringing a finger to her lips. “‘I thought that we were supposed to respect other people’s beliefs?’”

“Enough,” ordered Pozach. 

Pasko sat back in his chair, feeling chastened and Maguire smirked back at him. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

If you closed your eyes and squinted at Vasility Keitsev, it would almost seem like he was moving up in the world. He lived in his own quarters. He was free from his tiresome duties and his stuffy uniform was nowhere to be found. 

If you opened your eyes a little more, though, you would notice it was Crewman Leung who guarded his door during Alpha-shift. He was a nice guy but he was disinclined to let him wander around the ship. The only meaningful interaction that the prisoner had were his weekly dinners with Captain Pozach and every other meal took place in the Mess Hall where it was filled with distrust. While it wasn’t accurate to say that he regretted his time with the Maquis, it wasn’t necessarily the same thing as not being sorry. 

“Why did you have to be so mean to Aimee, Vasily?” 

Keitsev has crafted a bevy of responses to that question during his incarceration. He had one for Pozach. One for Pasko. And an answer for Maguire herself that he hoped that he would never have to use. Despite all of his preparation, no one had asked him until now. 

Standing with her hands on her hips like a temperamental teapot, Alice Polcheny was demanding an answer from him and he found it difficult to be glib about his answer. 

“We were on different sides. It wasn’t anything personal,” he said after a pause that he hoped that she didn’t hear. “I noticed that nobody got too upset once zh’Tali got through with me.” 

Polcheny was framing a response to his statement when her combadge chirped. “Senior staff, report to the Situation Room. Beta Shift, report to the Bridge.” 

Keitsev was halfway to his feet when Polcheny’s gaze pinned him down. “I’ll stay here,” he said, recovering gracefully before he sunk back down into his chair. She was already gone.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“The planet in question is Quernus,” Commander Survek explained from the Situation Room viewscreen. “Both the Tholians and the Kzinti have claimed it in the course of imperialist expansion and a number of skirmishes have occurred there over the last two hundred years. The most recent incident had apparently unearthed an object of an unknown origin.” 

Pasko smirked at this. “And now they’ve come, screaming bloody murder and asking for our help.” 

The Vulcan inclined his chin slightly. “It is as you say, Lieutenant.” 

“The Tholians and the Kzinti have declared a ceasefire for the moment,” Pozach said,” which is an indication to me about how seriously they take whatever we find. We’re sending security teams down. So is the Juneau to figure out what’s got them so spooked.” 

“What are we facing exactly?,” Ntannu asked her. Pasko’s amusement and Pozach’s confidence aside, it was his security personnel going into the face of danger. Anything that made the Tholians panic and the Kzinti shake with fear was due both his consideration and his respect. 

“Unknown. There doesn’t seem to be any imminent threat.” She moved on with the conversation, leaving the Ktarian unsatisfied with her answer. “We’re due at Quernus in seven hours. I’ll be beaming down with Captain M’Roaki and Councilor Bokam to see what we can learn. Mister Ntannu, you’ll be working with Lieutenant Commander Briannon to secure the area.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The transporter beam released its hold on them and Captain Amaara M’Roaki wasted no time at all. “Who’s in charge here?,” she demanded to know. 

Furry feline faces almost like M’Roaki’s twisted towards the away team. “Intruders!,” one of them hissed at them. 

Before M’Roaki or Bokam could say a word, Pozach stepped forward with her hands, open and raised as a sign of peace. “We’re Starfleet officers and we’re here at your own request. We mean you no harm.” 

“Starfleet,” one of the Kzinti said, snarling at them,” Apes… who use pretty words. Weak words.” He jerked his regal leonine head at the security detachment accompanying the away team . “You come remarkably well-armed for a ‘pacifistic alliance’.” 

“What’s this crisis that you’re having?,” M’Roaki asked gruffly, taking a protective step towards Pozach. It was said that aboard the Juneau, she enjoyed a motherly relationship with her crew. They were her cubs and that relationship had carried over to the Cayuga and her crew since both ships were assigned to work together by Admiral Myrru. 

“Ejeria, devine be His name, promised this world to the Kzinti for our use alone. Then the Tholians came, claiming that this is their world. Is there no divinity to their claim?” 

“You mean we were dragged out here,” the Caitian captain asked slowly,” over a land dispute?!” 

“No,” the Kzinti said,” you were summoned here to deal with That-Whose-Name-is-Forgotten.” His mouth split into a toothy smile. “Your lifes are now worth less than ours.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Two months ago, Lieutenant Ntannu, as Chief of Security, had met with Captain Pozach and outlined his proposal for the continued training of the ship’s security department. Training that was similar to the training used during the war. She had politely reviewed the plan, listened to all of his points, and she reminded him that since the war was over, security officers were no longer required to be soldiers. To the Ktarian, the terms seemed synonymous except that his security officers were less than well-trained and more poorly armed. 

With three dozen strong, the security teams from the Cayuga and the Juneau were standing at the bottom of a vast cluster. The scorched earth was still smoking, warming them through their boots. An abyssal hole had been revealed by the blast. 

“It’s a couple of hundred feet deep,” Lieutenant Commander Briannon guessed, peering over the edge before looking over at Ntannu. “We’ve got our rappelling gear set up. I was thinking of six to go down in the first group, including you and me?” 

Ntannu nodded at her and fitted the straps of the harness around his hips. When the belayer signalled ready, he swung his legs over the side and dropped inside. It was pitch-dark and the lamp attached to his phaser rifle did nothing to help. 

The Ktarian security officer found himself counting off the seconds on the way downward. It was twenty-five ticks after he began counting that his feet hit the ground. Briannon touched down beside him and together, they began activating lampsticks, tossing them in a fifty-foot circle. The light didn’t quite reach the walls. 

“We’re going to need to bring a portable generator down here,” the Juneau’s security chief commented as the other officers whispered around them,” and a whole rig of lights.” 

Consulting his tricorder, the Cayuga’s Security Chief headed over to the nearest wall. Dimly, he could make out the delicate carvings. “No,” he whispered. “Oh, no.” He raced back towards Briannon. “Hold here. No one is to leave this chamber. Is that understood?” 

“What? Why?” Briannon hooked a finger underneath her gold color, pulling her three rank pips into the light. “Maybe you should explain yourself, Lieutenant.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“You’re sure? I mean, really, really sure or not just kind of sure?” 

Ntannu stood near the windows of the Observation Deck, staring at the hull stretched out before him. “Will you ever forget the look of that place?” 

Aimee Maguire paced the lounge frantically. “What are the chances that it’s actually the same? That was one installation, hidden in deep space — “

“So this is another installation like that one. Only it’s hidden on a planet,” Novack said from where he was huddled in one of the lounge’s chairs. “I’m more worried about what happens after we go inside.” 

The doors slid open with a whoosh and Captain Pozach stepped inside. She seemed to be calm and confused but to Maguire’s trained eye, irritation was rolling underneath her exterior. 

“Lieutenant Commander Briannon tells me that you were quite adamant about halting the operations down on the surface, Lieutenant,” she said primly. 

“Jeanne, it’s a lot more complicated than — “

“Be,” the captain interrupted her,” silent.” She turned her attention back to Ntannu and she waited for an explanation. 

“I recognized the architecture and I thought that it would be best that we waited until the implications could be analyzed,” he told her evenly. 

“Implications,” Pozach repeated. Her tone had thawed out a little bit, though she was still clearly suspicious.

Ntannu hesitated so it was Novack who answered her. “Whatever it is, it belongs to the same people who made that installation that we found.” 

“Starfleet’s report on that incident was … thin.” 

“The ‘incident’ featured Starfleet’s three favorite things to classify: the Borg, time travel, and weapons capable of causing devastation over galactic distances,” Maguire pointed out to Pozach. 

“It’s still classified,” Ntannu added. 

“That installation was a weapon,” the chief engineer told Pozach. “There was … someone… from the future who wanted to use it against the Borg.” 

“And you guys think that what’s down there could also be a weapon?” 

“We can’t risk thinking that it’s not a weapon,” replied Ntannu. “That installation was capable of destroying all of the metallic alloys within a hundred and twenty lightyear radius. There are, at least, four dozen Tholian, Tzenkethi, Cardassian, and Kzinti worlds in that range with billions of lives living upon them.” 

Pozach considered this and asked,” What do you want to do?” 

Ntannu straightened up in front of his commanding officer and said with great resolution,” We have to go down there, the three of us. We can determine if it’s actually a weapon before the rest of the security teams can come in.” 

Maguire shivered, thinking about what they might expect.” I’m going to hit the Armory.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

They materialized at the center of the chamber. Powerful flood lamps illuminated every inch of the floor and fifty feet up the walls. Darkness still hunger over them like a ceiling. 

“We’ve been ordered to hang back until your say-so,” Briannon said stiffly. “Our tricorders have been fizzling out after about twenty feet. Some sort of interference.” Her gaze flickered over the trio with Aimee Maguire fretting over the pins in her hair, Ntannu silently eyeballing the door that loomed over them, and Novack who was clutching his phaser rifle to his chest. “You aren’t afraid of the dark, are you?” 

Maguire scowled at her and Ntannu walked over to the door. “Let’s go,” he said. With a tortured grinding, the door dropped down a hundred feet and revealed another cavernous room. 

“If we find the generator,” Maguire whispered to her teammates,” we can get power back on-line.” 

“I’m setting my tricorder to center in on the source of the interference,” Novack said after he scanned the area for a moment. “That way.” 

With their phaser rifles raised to lead them, the Starfleet officers slipped through the echoing room. “Do you think that these were originally intended to be empty?” 

“It’s got to be a huge waste,” Ntannu answered the chief engineer,” but who knows what value the architects had? We don’t know anything about them.” 

Novack shivered. “We know that the Borg called them ‘Demedra’.” 

“No dust,” Maguire noted as she scanned the area. “No wonder. The air’s too clean. There’s barely any particulate matter here. Novack, how old do you think that this place is?” 

No answer.

Ntannu turned around in a whirl, casting his light back towards where Novack had been but the ensign was gone. Swearing, Maguire keyed her tricorder. “Nothing. No sign of him at all.” 

“Ensign!,” the Ktarian shouted. 

“Novack!,” Maguire called out to him. “Ronald!” They searched frantically, although neither of them left the glow of one another’s light. “How can he just disappear like that?” 

Ntannu swung his light around again before he flashed it up in a burst of inspiration. Maguire quickly mimicked him but the gloom refused to be parted. “We can look more once we get the power back on,” the Security Chief promised her. 

Maguire frowned. “Then let’s hurry.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“I’m right here!,” Ronald Novack screamed at her face. 

Maguire stepped blindly past him. “This mission had better be worth it,” she said sourly. “I’m telling you that I’m not even curious enough about this place to die here.” 

Novack rushed after them. “I’m not dead,” he insisted to the side of Ntannu’s head. He pulled out his tricorder to show them. “Look! See! My tricorder is picking up all three of us.” He held it up in front of the security chief’s face. “Maybe there’s something wrong with yours!”

Ntannu and Maguire reached a door and stepped through it. Doggedly, the ensign followed after them. “If I wasn’t here, could I do this?,” he asked them, shoving Maguire between her shoulder blades. 

“Are you all right?,” the Ktarian asked her, helping her back up to her feet.

“Clumsy. I tripped over my own boots.” 

“Why can’t you hear me?!,” Novack cried at them.

“We can hear you.” 

He spun around. “Who said there? Where are you?” 

“We said that. We are here.” 

“Where’s here?!,” Novack snapped back at the strange voice. Glancing back at the away team, he saw that Maguire and Ntannu had disappeared into the darkness. “No!,” he shouted but they were gone.

“We are patient,” the voice said. It sounded familiar, although he couldn’t place it. There was a whirring sound like servos that were awakening for the first time after a very long rest. “We are ageless,” the voice continued,” and we are tireless.” 

There was movement in the blackness. Chills seized Novack’s spine, moving up and down it. He backed away, swinging his rifle around in a vain attempt to illuminate the figures stomping towards him. 

“We are powerful.” 

Novack turned and ran away. 

“We are relentless.” 

He fell down, skidding into a wall and clutching his shoulder, he twisted around and tried to regain his footing. Fuller stood over him. His Starfleet uniform had been torn into pieces to accommodate his implants. His left eye stared glassily down at him. His right eyes had been replaced by a pulsing device. Slowly, more figures arrived to form a ring of impassive metal and flesh around the scared ensign. 

Fuller said emotionlessly,” We are Borg.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Ntannu stepped through another doorway and he found himself outside. He turned around towards Maguire to register his surprise but an explosion kicked him off of his feet, hurling him back down. 

Maguire was gone. 

Rolling hills covered in orange grass dominated the landscape. There were no clouds but the smoke billowing from the wreckage of the hopper that had carried Ntannu and his squad, almost to their destruction, reduced the sunlight to a few stained beams. Keeping his head down, the Ktarian ran. His feet hit concrete and the command center came into view with a grounded cargo shuttle nestled beside a stone building. Above them in orbit, two dozen starships were unable to stop the landing shuttles of the Jem’hadar. 

Ntannu flashed a hand signal at the security guards who moved over toward him to challenge him. With their weapons still raised, a medic extracted a blood sample from him. When it was clear that he was what he appeared to be, they let him pass.” 

“… got force fields over the emplacements but they’ve started ulterium shelling. I don’t know how long they’ll last,” a hysterical Ensign shouted over the din of voices and explosions.

“They’re just softening us up, kid.” A man with Commander’s pips noticed Ntannu and he motioned him over while asking the Ensign,” What kind of force have they brought down upon us?” 

The Ensign, a Bolian, consulted a computer screen. “Recon reports twenty-seven columns of Jem’hadar. They’re supported by a regiment and a half of Cardassians regulars.” 

The Commander nodded solemnly. “Lieutenant,” he said to Ntannu while he studied a topographical map,” I hope you’re here to tell me that we’ve won the battle up in space.” 

The Ktarian shook his head. “No, sir. I came down with reinforcements from the Cayuga. The last that I saw, the battle was still pretty much undecided. Especially with old Tattok in command of the fleet and leading the charge.” 

“Reinforcements?,” the Commander asked him, eyeing the empty space behind him. 

Suddenly all of the communication devices in the complex squawked for attention. Technicians drew back in surprise as a Vorta appeared on their screens. “Citizens of the Federation,” he said in a tone of heartfelt sympathy,” there is no need for bloodshed. Please! I implore you to lay down your weapons! You have my word that you will all be treated honorably as Prisoners of War.” 

“The Jem’hadar have begun to march,” reported the ensign. 

The Commander pointed to a symbol on the map. “Lieutenant, help defend this photon mortar. Go.” ntannu turned and hurried out of the complex, his combadge still whispering blasphemies. 

“I understand why you fight and though it is as noble as your cause is, you must know in your hearts that you are doomed to fail. This is not due to any weakness on your part. Indeed, in you, the Dominion has found an opponent truly worthy of our respect.” 

Ntannu contemplated throwing his combadge away but it was too valuable to lose. 

“You will be defeated on the ground, in space, in this star system, and across this sector because you have defied the will of the Founders. In over two thousand years, anyone who has defied the Founders had never persevered.” 

The words slowed Ntannu’s run. “We persevered,” he breathed. “We defeated the Jem’hadar. This,” — he looked around and he was amazed as the buildings faded to blackness — ,” this has already happened before.” He searched the darkness as best as he could but Maguire was nowhere to be found.

“What do I do now?,” he asked to break the awful silence. Then in a firmer, more controlled voice, he asked,” What’s standard procedure?” 

With a deft hand gesture, he flipped open his tricorder, intent on finding the center of the interference. On the tricorder’s display screen, he gasped despite himself. 

“Panic,” it read.

“What?!” 

“They will return,” the screen told him. “It is inevitable. They will sweep you aside. Not because of their superiority but because of your inferiority.” 

Ntannu tossed the tricorder away and fled. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire was scared. 

Not more scared than she had ever been before in her life — that distinction belonged to the incident on Sazmaar — but she was awfully scared nonetheless. Alone, she raced towards the installation’s power source. The interference was so thick that her tricorder couldn’t scan any farther than what she could see ahead of her, which was about four feet. 

The power generator appeared so abruptly before her that she nearly flattened her nose on it. It was stretched far out of sight and she guided her palm beacon along its length until she found a terminal. The interface made no sense to her so she pulled off one of the access panels and crawled inside of it. She powered up the generator, and then dragged herself free before she squinted at the dim light that filled the room. 

“It’s a start,” she muttered to herself. 

A slow dripping sound captured her attention. Confused, she glanced around until she saw it. Falling down from the ceiling, far above her, was blood and it was so dark that it was almost purple. It splattered down onto the floor, not puddling but building up to materialize into something. Maguire stepped back as a boot formed. 

More drips added a leg. 

A torso…

Arms…

And finally a recognizable face.

“What?,” Davi zh’Tali asked her, delicately licking the blood off of her fingers. “I’m your delusion.” 

Maguire blanched at the sight but the slight spurred her to react. “I am not delusional.” 

“Oh really?,” zh’Tali asked her, amused. She brushed a hand through her short white hair, sending a red spray of blood into the air. “Which one of us is talking to a dead person?” 

“I guess I am.” 

“That’s not too much guesswork involved.” The bloody woman smirked at her. “What are you not sure about? That we’re talking or that I’m actually dead.” Maguire scowled at her. “All right, it’s hardly like you to trade in on your intellect anyways.” 

“Hey! Did you see me get that damned generator on-line?,” Maguire shouted back at her, defensively. 

“I was very impressed with how you found the ‘on’ switch.” zh’Tali’s body softened and lengthened. “Really, Aimee, I just wanted to marry you for your brains. Your big brains.” 

Furiously, Maguire stepped up, nose-to-nose, with her former fiance. “Do not bring him into this.” 

“Or what? You’ll hit me?” zh’Tali smiled back at her. “Besides, it’s not like I can make you believe it any less.” Her face rounded and darkened. “I trusted you,” Pozach said, turning away sorrowfully. 

“Stop it,” growled Maguire. 

“What kind of game were you playing with me?,” Sam Dixon demanded to know. “I gave you my heart. At least, you could have told me that all you wanted was sex.” 

Snarling, Aimee threw herself at him. She splashed through his body, gagging on blood as she fell down to her knees. 

“That’s just stupid,” zh’Tali chuckled as she helped the engineer back to her feet. “I’ve attacked a lot of things but none of them have ever been a figment of my imagination.” The Andorian sighed. “Look, you’re never going to get this on your own. See that hole in the wall?” 

Spitting out blood from her mouth, Maguire stared at the break in the ornate gilding, trying to decide if it had been there previously. “What is it?” 

zh’Tali rolled her eyes and said,” It’s a hole. In the wall.” 

Maguire took a step closer and crouched down to peer inside the hole. A sharp blow to her posterior sent her tumbling through the break in the wall, dumping her onto the rough ground. She looked upward and gasped. 

Above her hung a creature that resembled a sphere of flesh dotted with eyes. At least, a dozen tentacles sprouted from it, each of them wrapped around rungs that were mounted into the stone walls. The creature filled up the cave and when it leaned down to examine her, she pressed herself against the floor to escape it. 

“Is it real?” 

“That’s a good question.” zh’Tali squatted down next to her and scratched it above one of its smaller eyes. “Yup. it’s as real as you are.” 

Orifices opened across its body, expelling sour-smelling gasses before it pulled in fresh air. Maguire clapped a hand over her nose. “What is it?” 

The creature pulled itself upward, moving a few of its tentacles to different rungs on the wall. “That,” zh’Tali said,” is an Alzok. They’re incredible creatures. They feed on neural energies and this one… this one has been starving.” 

Maguire sat up, eyeing the creature dubiously. “Does it understand me?” 

“Better than you understand yourself.” zh’Tali sat on a rock, leaning one elbow on her knee as she explained,” The Alzok are telepaths of literally the highest order. They live a very long time, and ages ago, they learned how to warp the fabric of reality with their minds. It has been down here, living in this installation, long since before the Federation was founded. Unfortunately, it has been too weak to leave until the Kzinti punched a hole into the ceiling and all sorts of people started dropping in. The Kzinti are not that mentally robust exactly, but they’re good for eating.” 

Maguire realized that her mouth was drooling but she couldn’t figure out what to do about it. “What… what’s it doing to me?” 

zh’Tali examined her fingernails. “Topping off.” 

Panic flared in Maguire’s eyes. “I’m going to die.” 

“No.” 

Slumped on the ground, she gazed up to look at Pasko’s reassuring smile. “You aren’t going to die,” he told her. “You just need to hold out a little longer.” 

“How do you know?” 

He took her hand. “Have a little faith.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“… his entire neural cortex was destroyed. I have no idea what could have caused trauma like that.” 

Maguire forced her eyes to open. The conversations around her stopped and faces loomed over her, blocking out the lights of Sickbay. “Can you speak?,” Doctor Moru asked her. 

“Yes,” she croaked, wincing at the pain. “My head…” 

“It’s going to hurt for a while, I’m afraid.” The Bolian turned to face a tray laid out with hypo sprays. “I can give you something to put you back under again.” 

“Please.” Squinting through slitted eyes, Maguire made out the other face. “Jeanne?” 

“You had us all really worried,” Pozach said with a tight smile on her face. “I’m glad that you’re alright.” 

I trusted you, filled the engineer’s mind. 

“No problem,” she said weakly before she caught sight of another figure. “Sean.” 

“I’m here,” he told her, stepping up to the biobed and taking her hand into his. 

She batted Moru’s hypospray away. “Sean.” She took a deep breath, exhaling it, and as if with great effort, she said,” Tell me about faith.” 

The End…

19 – ‘Warriors’

Star Trek: Cayuga

19 – ‘Warriors’

By Jack Elmlinger

(Special Notes from the Author): (1) – Ensign Sayvok is imitating Andy Kaufman by reading The Great Gatsby — All of it. (2) – The Kzinti were first created by Larry Niven as part of his Known Space series. (3) I would like to offer a special commendation to David Metlesits (thefirstfleet). He uses the Kzinti in his Polarisverse series.

“‘Tom,’ I inquired,’ what did you say to Wilson that afternoon?’ He stared at him without a word and I knew I had guessed right about those missing hours. I started to turn away but he took a step after me and grabbed my arm.’”

Sayvok stood up on a stool illuminated by a single light. He had been like that for hours, calmly reading from a hardcover book.

“What’s he reading?,” Alice Polcheny asked as she sat down next to a small cluster of officers. The performance had been scheduled for the last night that the two crew would share time together for a while. The Cayuga’s Mess Hall was crowded with personnel from both ships.

Kyla Briannon smiled at her while Commander Survek, the Juneau’s First Officer merely nodded before he returned his attention to Sayvok.

Entranced by the Vulcan’s performance, Leonard Huang didn’t greet her but he did proffer her an answer. “I have no idea,” he said, marveling at the engineer. “He’s incredible. Like no other Vulcan that I’ve ever met.”

“Most of the people around here don’t go for performance art,” she agreed with him, peering at Survek in the hope that he could offer them some insight.

“‘I couldn’t forgive him or love him,’” Sayvok continued with his recitation,”’ but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confusing. There were careless people Tom and Daisy — they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together and let other people clean up the mess they had made…

“‘I shook hands with him; it seemed silly not to, for I felt suddenly as though I were talking to a child. Then he went into the jewelry store to buy a pearl necklace — or perhaps only a pair of cuff buttons — rid of my provincial squeamishness forever’.”

“I met him on Earth,” Huang told Polcheny, his eyes still focused on the stage,” at the Tokyo R&D facility. A local university was holding an evening of poetry readings and I went for the novelty of a Vulcan reading Japanese haikus.” He bit his lip and breathed,” Damn.”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

“Captain’s Log, stardate 56826.5;

While Councilor Bokam stays aboard the Juneau to continue their dialogue with the Tholian delegation, the Cayuga is proceeding on course towards a planet in the Gianwu system. Spotted by a Cardassian survey vessel, fifteen years ago, it is home to a pre-warp civilization. I hope that we’ll be able to flesh out the Cardassians’ sparse cultural report.

“In shipboard matters, the time for crew evaluations has come upon us again. At this time, last year, I was on my way back from Intooine and Commander zh’Tali handled the evaluations on her own. Being less determined than she was, I’ve enlisted Commander Riker’s and Doctor Moru’s aid. One thing that concerns me about Aimee’s promotion. The most cursory review of her file shows that she had earned a promotion to Lieutenant Commander, even considering her brief stint away from the ship. I’m… hesitant to bring up the idea myself since I fear that it smacks of favoritism…

“Bridge to Captain Pozach.”

Pasko’s voice jolted her away from her thoughts. She closed the log and straightened up in her Ready Room chair. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“We’re approaching Gianwu now but our sensors are showing another ship already in orbit.”

The doors at the rear of the Bridge opened to admit Pozach and she took over the center seat from Riker. “Magnify,” she ordered and as Gianwu II expanded to fill up the main viewscreen, a brown fleck grew to become a ship. It was a bolted together collection of basic components: engines, a Bridge compartment, cargo bays, and very obvious weapons turrets.

“The ship is warp-capable,” Riker reported from the Ops position. “Their weapons consist of chemical missiles and plasma blasters. I’m searching our database for it but it definitely isn’t used by any Federation or Cardassian world.” His panel chimed in with new information and he looked up with surprise. “It’s a Kzinti assault ship.”

Pasko glanced over at him. “That hunk of junk?”

“Mister Riker, hail them.”

Riker shook his head. “There’s no response, Captain. Though they have begun de-orbiting.”

“Keep hailing them. Maybe they don’t realize that there’s a young race down there.”

Pasko kept the Cayuga directly above the descending Kzinti ship for nearly ten minutes before the viewscreen revealed a massive feline face.

“What?!,” the Kzinti demanded with his slitted golden eyes showing malevolence.

Pozach smiled charmingly at him and leaned forward in her chair. “I’m Captain Jea — “

“Your device profanes the Hero’s Tongue, ape!,” the felinoid spat back at her. “Speak quickly, lest your offence compound itself.”

Pozach frowned back at him. “There’s a civilization down on the planet below us. They haven’t advanced very far enough technologically and as such, they are protected under the Prime Directive. I am respectfully asking you what your business is on Gianwu II.”

The Kzinti let out a stuttering hiss that almost sounded like an amused chuckle. “The hairless ape dares to give me orders?! Your Prime Directive means nothing to me, Human. I am Lrrt-Captain, Warrior of the Karrak House of the Kzinti Patriarchy. I have been charged with harnessing the resources of this world and bringing its people to heed.” He leered at the Captain from the viewscreen. “Interfere, Human. I wish to taste your flesh.”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

“That ship is eighty or ninety years behind us, technologically,” Aimee said, referring to the schematic displayed on the Situation Room’s monitor screen. “Those plasma blasters are powerful but in a stand-up fight, we’ll have no problem putting the Kzinti down.”

Pozach accepted the information with a nod. “Be it as it may, I’m not David Metlesits. I’d like to avoid combat if possible.”

“Naturally,” Pasko added dryly.

“Captain,” Commander Riker said,” I’ve studied both the Starfleet and Cardassian files on them. The Kzinti were predators who were well-known before they were sentient. They think as well as we do but not like we do. Based on the mission logs of the USS Polaris during the 23rd century, there can be no peaceful accord with them because the Kzinti don’t believe in them.”

“There has to be some way that we can convince them to leave on their own,” Moru insisted.

Riker threw up his hands. “If we don’t challenge them or challenge them and lose, we’ll be seen as prey and get attacked. If we challenge them and win, we’ll be seen as a threat and attacked.” He shrugged his shoulders with a sigh. “They’re like Klingons. The Kzinti fight. It’s what they do.”

“I’d like to think that we’re better than that,” the Captain said with a smile. “Here’s the plan. Once the Kzinti disembark from their ship, Maguire will sneak aboard and sabotage it.”

The Chief Engineer smirked at this plan. “Remember what the Cardassian black marketeers hit us with? I’ve been waiting to screw someone else with the thing.”

“After that, we’ll tow them well out of the Gianwu system with our tractor beam.”

“What will keep them from coming back once they repair their ship?,” Ntannu asked.

“They won’t,” came an answer from Riker, a glimmer of amused respect coming across his face,” because once we insult these Kzinti by making them fail, they’ll come after us before finishing their assignment. They have to. It’s their only honorable recourse.”

“I think we can suffer some harassment for the sake of the people down on Gianwu II.” Pozach glanced over at Commander Riker. “I’ve read the same reports on the Kzinti too,” she told him. “I want you to assemble a cultural survey team and proceed as we previously planned. There’s no reason for the Kzinti to keep us away from our mission.”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

The away team materialized inside of a dark alley. A quick tricorder sweep proved that they hadn’t been seen before Riker led them out onto the main street.

“It’s been so long since I’ve done one of these missions,” Crewman Taylor said, scanning the street excitedly. It was formed with broad stones and filled with many Gianwuans going about their daily lives. “Four years of working triage has almost made me forget why we’re supposed to be out here.”

“It’s fascinating,” Riker agreed with him. Irritated, he scratched at the feathery prosthetic attached to his cheeks and jaw “I can’t believe that we’re supposed to hear through these things. Let’s get this mission over with. Taylor and Collier, get your biological information. Hobbes, grab some scans of their technology while I mingle.” The away team dispersed to carry out their task while he muttered,” I don’t want to spend any more time on this dirtball planet than I have to.”

As a cultural anthropologist, it was his job to observe the Gianwuans’ society which was in one word, boring. Half a dozen lordlings ruled over the impoverished citizenry in comfort, much like Earth had been during the Dark Ages. The males worked to gather money and resources while the females raised the children, performing domestic chores. The women weren’t even remotely attractive and that fact irritated him more than anything.

A hushed silence fell over the street. Riker took a step closer to Collier who was already looking. At her sudden gasp, he caught sight of them. Five Kzinti stood at the end of the street. They were snarling quietly and surveying the Gianwuans. Slowly, they began to encircle the crowd that had formed to gawk at them and gossip.

“They don’t have any weapons,” Collier said, hypnotized by the grace of the Kzinti. They reminded her of Captain M’Roaki of the Juneau and her species, the Caitians.

“They don’t need them,” the commander said, slapping his chest to strike at his hidden combadge. “Riker to Cayuga. Why the hell weren’t we told that there were Kzinti in the area?”

There was a pause and then Ensign Novack reported,” Scanners aren’t picking up any Kzinti lifesigns within twenty kilometers of your position, Commander.”

The lead Kzinti stepped forward, sniffing at a Gianwuan man who stood entranced by him. The felinoid bellowed at him, dispatching the Gianwuan with a swipe of his claw. Blood sprayed from the alien’s chest and the crowd dissolved, running away in panic as the rest of the Kzinti dove in, their claws and teeth flashing as they attacked.

Horrified by what she was seeing, Collier stepped back into Riker. For a moment, he forgot about the murderous Kzinti. Then frantically, he pounded on his combadge. “Get us out of here! Get us out now!”

A voice called out of nowhere. “And you’re the runts that your mothers couldn’t be bothered to drown!”

The Kzinti turned away from their slaughter as Lieutenant Hobbes’ combadge translated his words and spat them back at them in the snarls and hisses of the Hero’s Tongue. As they turned to face him, the science officer ran for his life.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

“I have no idea how they’re avoiding our scans,” Aimee Maguire snapped, stepping away from the engineering station and walking across the Bridge to the Ops position. Pushing Ensign Novack aside, she took over the station. “I’ve got Connelly and Sayvok brainstorming down in Engineering about how they’re jamming us, but they aren’t getting anywhere.” She slapped her hands flat against the panel. “Get me an example and I can figure something out.”

“Until we can track them down, I’m having Ntannu deploy as many of his security teams as possible to try to keep the Kzinti away from the settlements. So far, the Gianwuans are staying put where they are, but I don’t think that’ll last.” Pozach stood up from her chair, stretching her muscles. “I want you to beam down there and take care of the Kzinti ship. I suspect that the longer that we confound them, it’s more likely that they are going to attack the Cayuga directly.” She tapped Ensign Polcheny on the shoulder and motioned for her to stand. “Take Alice with you.”

“Me?” The Ensign’s eyes widened in joyful surprise.

“Her?,” Maguire asked her irritably.

Pozach shrugged, taking Polcheny’s place at the helm. “We don’t have many people to spare and while we’re in orbit, a body at the helm isn’t exactly critical.”

“Oh, thank you, Captain!,” Polcheny bubbled with astonishment. “I can’t tell you how much this means — “ Her words were cut off as Maguire dragged her off of the Bridge.

“An away mission,” the Ensign enthused as the turbolift doors opened before them. “I don’t get on many of those. Especially with being a helm officer and all.”

“Perish the thought,” Maguire said before she gave directions to the turbolift computer.

“Real dirt underneath my feet and a horizon!” She clapped her hands with joy.

Both women stepped into the transporter room and went to the equipment lockers. The Chief Engineer took a minute to affix her tool kits and her holstered hand phaser to her belt. While Polcheny checked out her tricorder, she pinned her braid down close to her head.

“Put us within twenty meters from the Kzinti ship,” she told Petty Officer Mbanu.

Polcheny still hadn’t stopped talking, even after they had stepped onto the transporter platform.  “But I also wanted to talk to you.” The world faded to blue and silver before they reappeared in a lush forest clearing. The Kzinti ship sat in the sunlight, silent and alone. “About… you know… personal stuff.”

Frowning, Maguire opened up her tricorder and began to scan the area. “Stuff?”

“Yeah,” she said evasively. “I… I mean… I just can’t say it.”

“That does make it harder.” The engineer headed towards the ship and Polcheny quickened her pace to keep up.

“It’s about Sean and how we’re involved romantically.” Alice took a deep breath before she continued,” And I figured since you the most experience of being romantically involved with anyone that I know –”

“Maybe you should stop there.” They reached the ship’s airlock and after a quick pass with her tricorder. With a disdainful snort from the engineer, both doors opened and they stepped inside.

“I don’t think that Sean thinks I’m attractive,” the helm officer pressed on, hoping for some advice from the older woman. “For a bunch of nights now, I’ve been sleeping in his quarters and … and…” She trailed off for a moment. “He hasn’t noticed me… or acted like he cares.”

The interior of the alien ship was as spacious as it was required by the massive bodies of its Kzinti crew. Red lights illuminated the quiet corridor ahead of them. Following the data on her tricorder, Maguire traced a power conduit. “Well, Sean’s a pretty religious guy. Maybe he’s got some prohibitions against sexual activity.”

“That’s silly! Where would you get all of the little religious people from then?”

Maguire pulled off an octagonal panel off of a bulkhead. “You want to make little religious people?”

“Maybe.”

Maguire examined the power systems and tapped her combadge. “M’banu, I’m in position.”

Instantly before them, the black marketeers’ sabotage device materialized on the floor before them. With a few deft movements, she attached the device and resealed the panel. “Look, if you really want my advice. I would just talk to him about it.” She snorted and led her towards the airlock. “If you don’t do it now, then there’ll undoubtedly be more talking la–”

She stepped outside of the ship and froze in mid-step. Three gigantic Kzinti were emerging from the forest. The largest of them with an almost tabby coloration hissed at the other two when he saw them.

“Oh, zh’Tali is never around when you need her,” Maguire muttered as the largest Kzinti moved forward, dropping from two legs to four legs with liquid grace. His amber eyes narrowed and raping snarls emerged from between his sharp teeth.

“What’s he saying?,” Polcheny asked, captivated by the felinoids.

“Back away slowly.”

Frowning at them, the helm officer said,” That seems to be a very silly thing for him to be saying.”

“Just run, you idiot!” Maguire bolted back inside the ship. “Mbanu! Mbanu, get us the hell out of here!”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

“We seem to be spending an awful lot of time running away from these guys,” Pasko remarked with a smirk.

“Because I’m sure that a big man like you would have just stood them down,” Maguire scowled from the Bridge engineering station. “I swear the damned thing shredded my jacket!”

To Captain Pozach’s eye, her uniform appeared to be undamaged but she let the comment slide. “How are you looking down on the surface?”

“Lieutenant Ntannu reports that there have been no more Kzinti contacts around the village in the past hour,” Riker reported. His skin was still tinted green from the undercover prosthetic and he rubbed at his cheeks. “In fact, the warship is powering up its engines.”

“Get ready,” Pozach told Maguire. “Sean, see that they meet us quickly. Mister Riker, send the Kzinti a reminder that Gianwu II is protected by the Prime Directive and that they’re not to interfere.”

“No response,” he reported,” but they are charging their weapons.”

Pozach leaned forward in her chair. “Warn them one more time.”

“Waste of time,” he grumbled underneath his breath.

“We’ve got a bit of time to spare,” the Captain replied before she sighed. “I trust that there’s no response?”

Riker looked over his shoulder at her. “They’ll be within weapons range in eight seconds.”

“Aimee.”

With a vindictive grin, Maguire stabbed a button on her panel. On the main viewscreen, the Kzinti vessel stumbled in space at the same time that blue electrical energy flared over its hull. The engineer’s malicious chuckle filled  the Bridge.

“Kzinti power emissions are at zero power,” pronounced the Ops officer. “The ship is traveling solely on momentum.”

“Sean, catch them with a tractor beam and set a course for the nearest Kzinti system.” Jeanne grinned and added,” Good job, everyone.”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

“Stupid. So incredibly stupid.”

Brandon Hobbes turned away from the stars streaking past his window and glared. “Is that all that you’ve come here to say?”

“Well, I think that ‘stupid’ pretty much covers it well,” Tom Riker snapped back at him, “You used to have much more sense than to challenge a bunch of eight-hundred pound killing machines to a game of Tag.”

“Like that time that you insulted the mothers of that entire gang of Nausciaans?”

“I was too drunk to know what I was doing. Plus I thought that they were Betazoids,” he reminded him. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Brandon! Is getting yourself killed a part of your mission to do good?”

Hobbes stepped away from the window and dropped down onto his bed. The sterile bandages wrapped around his chest and arms gleamed in the pale light. “I can’t save myself by sacificing others,” he said, sounding tired. “Not anymore.” He motioned to his computer screen where a commendation of heroism appeared upon it. “Captain Pozach seems to approve of my actions.”

“Jeanne Pozach is a naive little woman who would let you die before she did anything to save your life.” Hobbes stared up at him, too drained to bother with a response. “Damned fool,” Riker said and then he was gone.”

Long shadows filled the corridor and Riker sauntered down it, reading door plates at he went by. Finding the one that he wanted, he keyed the door chimes. After a few moments, the door slid open and a drowsy Roslyn Collier stared back at him, quickly becoming more awake in his presence.

“You want me,” he told her. It was a question, a suggestion, and a command all in one sentence.

Collier cocked her head to one side and considered him with a wry smile. Then slowly, she stepped back inside her questers, letting him in.

The End…

18 – ‘The Dove’

Star Trek: Cayuga

18 – ‘The Dove’

By Jack Elmlinger

“… and the next thing that I knew, I was lying on my back on the holodeck.” 

Doctor Zimthar Moru looked up from the biobed readings and sighed heavily. Other than Ensign Aerru, Sickbay was empty but he was the fourth officer this week who had returned from the Juneau with some sort of injury. “I know that holodecks are a lot of fun,” the Bolian physician said,” but they’re dangerous as well.” 

“I used the safety protocols,” insisted the Kelpien pilot. 

“Which will stop you from being killed, not injured.” He tapped the biobed monitor off. “Fortunately for you, Doctor Boyce is good with a bone knitter. Roslyn, could you prepare a hypospray of the local anesthetic?” 

“I can feel it itching already,” Aerru whined as he rubbed his left forearm. 

Roslyn pressed a hypospray against the offending arm. “Just be happy that I’m on-duty instead of Taylor,” she said with a ready smile. “Unless you prefer your bedside manner to be Cardassian-style.” 

Chuckling, Aerru took to his feet. “Thanks, Roslyn. Thanks, Doc.” 

Moru waited until the doors had closed behind Aerru before he said,” That’s not funny.” 

Collier shrugged at him. “I thought it was.” She replaced the hypospray and began checking medication doses. 

“I want you to talk to someone about your attitude towards Cardassians,” the Chief Medical Officer said, stepping forward to force her attention on him. “There’s a counselor aboard the Juneau…” 

“Counselor?,” she repeated, aghast at his words. “As if not liking Cardassians is some kind of mental defect. As if it’s not justified after all that they’ve done.” The medic shook her head at him. “I won’t go.” 

Moru considered her answer for a moment. “As you wish.” He walked into his office and as he sat down behind his desk, Collier poked her head through the open door. 

“That’s it?” 

“No, I expect you to see the Juneau’s counselor once a week until further notice. If you miss a session, you’ll be relieved of duty,” the Bolian said simply.

“You can’t relieve me of duty for having different beliefs than yours!,” she yelled back at him. 

Moru looked up at her. “It’s not healthy for you to let your feelings fester like that, Roslyn.” 

Collier threw up her hands at him. “Fine, then relieve me.” She spun around on her heels and stormed out of sight. The hiss of the doors to Sickbay opening was punctuated by the sound of the hypospray tray crashing down to the floor. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Checkmate.” 

Sean Pasko studied the stacked boards and he concluded, three turns ago, that he had been hopelessly outfoxed. For some reason, there was a measure of pride that demanded that he finish the fight. 

“These platforms always throw me off,” he said, tapping the uppermost platform of the three-dimensional chess board. 

Kyla Briannon, Security Chief of the Juneau, harrumphed at his remark. “I think I would’ve had you anyways, Lieutenant,” she said, plucking the remaining pieces from the board. 

“Yeah, well…” The Juneau’s Recreation Hall was larger than the Cayuga’s Mess Hall and its massive bay windows provided a distraction from Briannon’s point. “How long do you think they’ll keep us waiting?” 

Pell Muriko, the Juneau’s Zakdorn helm officer, looked up from his book and at the angular ship hanging out in space. “The Tholians are known somewhat for… brusque diplomacy.” 

“They’ll keep us waiting here long enough to prove that they can,” Briannon said, placing the last of the tri-d chess pieces into a felt-lined box. “That’s how diplomacy is supposed to work. We did the same thing, waiting two years after the war for us to kiss and make up with them.” 

Across the room, the tall oaken doors slid open with a swoosh for Aimee Maguire and Wanu Fenzel, her Atrean counterpart aboard the Juneau. Spotting Pasko, they walked over towards his table. 

“How’s Engineering here?,” he asked her. 

“Big,” she replied with a hint of flushed redness in her cheeks,” and… thrumming.” 

Pasko turned in his chair, addressing her alone. “Did you get Pozach’s message?” 

“Dinner tonight with a ‘special guest’? I’m in as long as it isn’t with Keitsev.” 

He shook his head. “I talked to Lieutenant Ntannu. Keitsev isn’t scheduled to go anywhere tonight but to stay in his nice comfortable cell.” 

A flicker of motion caught Maguire at the corner of her eye. In the corner, Sayvok was having an indistinct conversation with a man in blue departmental colors. As if he noticed her paying attention to him, Leonard Huang turned around. Motion and sound ground to a halt around her as she stared at him. 

‘Acceptable losses’, he had said, referring to the entire Cardassian Union. ‘In my time, the entire Beta and Alpha Quadrants have been overrun by the Borg.’ His uniform had been different — standard black and gray, one pip instead of three — and his eyes were calm but he still made her stomach turn. 

“Aimee?,” Sean asked with concern. 

“We have to get back to the ship,” she hissed at him, grabbing his arm and leading him away from a future that was too horrible for her to bear. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Do you remember the debates that we had over the Defiant Project?” 

Maguire looked back and forth between Captain Pozach and Councilor Bokam. The Councilor’s appearance at the table had been unsettling enough and his friendly attitude with the captain was just odd. She glanced at Pasko and she saw the same thought in his eyes.

“You might not believe it,” the Kriosian said, turning towards Maguire and Pasko,” but when the proposal for the Defiant Project came through to the Federation Security Council, a young Lieutenant Commander Pozach fought against it, tooth and nail. It was quite impressive.” 

Pozach sat in forced calm, playing with her glass. She felt Maguire’s and Pasko’s eyes on her and explained,” I thought that constructing a fleet of dedicated warships was … contradictory to the goals of Starfleet.” 

“Despite the obvious threat of an impending Borg invasion!,” the Councilor cried with delight. “I’ll tell you, Jeanne, that I never shared your pacifistic beliefs but I’ve always respected the strength of your convictions. Always.” He pushed his plate forward. “I remember when you were assigned as Amos Bradley’s First Officer. You hadn’t served aboard a starship in ten years, and you were so… anxious.” 

“I was…” Pozach caught herself. “I didn’t want to be placed into a combat position.” 

“How would you like to come back?” 

Pozach’s eyebrows shot up and she leaned back into her chair. “What?” 

“Come back to the Federation Council and take up your position as a liaison from Starfleet again,” Bokam said, leaning over the table. “Since the beginning of the war, the moderating force on the Council had dwindled down to nothing. Admiral Tattok would never have allowed Admiral Falconer to kill so many Cardassians after the Buckingham incident if the Council hadn’t expressed condemnation.” 

“It didn’t?,” Sean blurted out. 

“I did very little in my years in Paris but argue against you. The Defiant Project. Reinstating the draft. Project Damocles. Sanctions against governments that kept out of the war. At least on the draft, I defeated your proposal.” She spread her hands out as if she was encompassing the entirety of space. “My time out here hasn’t changed me that much, Councilor. I still stand against many of your policies.” 

“Good!,” replied the Kriosian. “I don’t agree with your beliefs but that doesn’t make them unnecessary or wrong. We need opinions like yours because they contradict mine.” 

Pasko watched the exchange warily. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“I’m sorry, Councilor, but Captain Pozach is already spoken for,” Maguire said, planting her hands on the table and rising up from her chair. “I appreciate a contrary opinion as much as the next person but the Captain is an irreplaceable part of the Cayuga’s crew. The ship simply couldn’t operate properly without her.” 

Bokam’s eyebrows rose in amusement. 

“Aimee,” Pozach said softly before he could respond,” sit down.” 

Maguire sat back down in her chair. 

“It’s quite an offer, Councilor,” she continued, obviously weighing in each word. “I’ll take it under advisement.” 

He smiled at her. “That’s all that I ask.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“She can’t be seriously considering it,” Sean said around his toothbrush, spitting angrily into the bathroom sink. 

Alice sat perched on the edge of the bed, tugging at the hem of her nightshirt, fighting to keep a dopey grin off of her face. Her gaze darted around the room, returning, every so often, to the pink floral-patterned bag resting on the bathroom counter. She had placed it there with great pride, just an hour ago. It was the first time that she had ever brought an overnight bag to anyone’s quarters. 

“Maybe the Captain likes working in politics. My parents tried to get me to play the clarinet and I was pretty good at it but I didn’t like it. I picked up on chemical photography instead. I haven’t done it in a while, though, because silver nitrate is restricted aboard starships. It causes toxic shock in Benzites.” 

Sean finished in the bathroom, came out and pulled off his shirt. “I understand what you mean,” Alice heard over the fluttering of her heart. “I think I’m just worried about losing Jeanne.” He crossed over to the bred and pulled back the sheets. “Let’s go to bed.” 

The fluttering of Alice’s heart became a jackhammer. “Okay,” she whispered. 

Lovingly, he held the sheets open for her, tucking them gently underneath her chin as she settled in. She closed her eyes as his lips pressed against hers. He pulled away and after a moment, wondering what would happen next, she opened her eyes. 

Sean lay next to her, asleep. 

For a moment, she wondered if this was all a part of the game. If she was supposed to do something now… A brief snore disillusioned her of that idea. 

“Good night?” 

Sean mumbled back at her, happily. 

Alice rolled over and fretted.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Situated on Deck Eleven, Cargo Bay Two was about as close to the ‘bottom’ of the ship as it was possible to be aboard the Cayuga. Filled with scientific instruments, spare parts that couldn’t be replicated, and extra armaments, the bay carried with it, an air of secrecy. 

Aimee Maguire heard the gentle swoosh of the Cargo Bay doors opening and then closing. Footsteps worked their way through the maze of supplies. A moment later, Lieutenant Ntannu and Ensign Novack stepped into view. 

“It’s late, Lieutenant,” the Ktarian security chief said, his long dreadlocks hanging loose around his shoulders. 

“Late is relative,” she replied, motioning to a stack of quantum torpedoes. “Take a seat, guys.” 

“Lieutenant,” Novack complained,” I’ve got better things to do than play and cloak-and-dagger games.” 

“Seven months ago, we picked up our returning cadets. We also got a few new officers assigned to the ship to make up for our losses against the Maquis. Maybe none of you have noticed that one of them is an Ensign assigned to the Science Section named Leonard Huang?” 

Ntannu’s dark skin paled at her question. “Huang…?” 

Maguire nodded. “The present-day version of the man who brought the Borg down upon our heads.”

“Who else knows?,” Novack asked her. “Commander zh’Tali’s dead and Fuller was assimilated…” 

“… and the Department of Temporal Investigations classified all of our reports of the event,” the chief engineer said, finishing the ensign’s sentence for him. “The three of us are the only people on this ship who understand his significance.” 

“So what do you want us to do about it?” 

“‘Do’, Ntannu?” Maguire laughed at him. “I have no idea. I just know that having him aboard freaks the crap out of me.” 

“What if we were to tell him about the away mission?,” Novack asked her slowly. “Warned him? Maybe give him the knowledge that could help him to avoid the timeline that his future self came from.” 

Ntannu shook his head. “And tell him what? That sometime in the future, he’ll be so desperate to destroy his timeline that he’s willing to commit billions of murders?” 

“In his future, he hasn;t already come back in time,” the Chief Engineer interjected between both security officers. “So when he did, he created a whole new timeline, then and there.” 

“But is it different enough? What’s to say that the Borg won’t still come for us?” 

That question had been stalking Aimee for week so she did what she had done, every other time that it had come close. She avoided it. “Let’s focus on the now. Huang. What can we do about him?” 

“Nothing,” Ntannu decided for all three of them. “Huang — this Huang — has no relation to the man that we’ve met now and nobody is going to do anything about that.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Counselor Wilso shifted in his seat, trying to think of an opening to begin the counseling session. This wasn’t his first time in being in a session like this one. Especially since the end of the war, which didn’t make matters any easier. “You seem irritated to be here,” the robust man said, his eyes on her. 

Roslyn Collier sat across from him with her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze shifted from the wall with a seascape painting upon it to him. “As a matter of fact, I am.” 

“Well, maybe you could tell me why? All I know is that you’re from the Cayuga and that your appointment was made at the request of your Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Zimthar Moru.” 

Roslyn considered this and finally said,” It’s the Cardassians.” 

“The Cardassians?” 

Anger flared up in her eyes. “Doctor Moru finds my ‘attitude’ towards them unbecoming. He thinks that I’m being a racist.” 

“What do you think?” 

“I think that I’ve proven that I can work with them. I was on Iannar and Norgo. I helped out a lot of Cardassians during the terraforming and sek crises.” 

“It sounds like you’ve done a lot of good work.” 

“You’re damned right I have.” She pushed herself up to her feet. “I’m a damned good nurse and an excellent medic! I’m on my way to becoming a damned good doctor. I’ve followed his every order without question. How dare he call me a racist?” 

“I’ve never spoken with Doctor Moru myself,” Wilson told her. “Can you take a guess?” 

Roslyn began pacing across the room, prowling like an animal. “Sure, I don’t like Cardassians. I doubt that many people do these days. That’s what happens when you start galactic wars.” 

“That’s true.” 

“We lost a lot of good people during that last push to Cardassia Prime. Fifty people died on the Cayuga when we got rammed. A lot of my friends died,” — she took a deep breath — ,” but then, we beat them. We defeated the Cardassians and pushed the Dominion back to the Gamma Quadrant.” She stopped pacing but she still stared at the wall. “And then… And then our new assignment is to deliver releif supplies to the poor, deleaguered Cardies.” 

Wilson leaned forward in his seat. “That made you angry.” 

“Of course, it did!,” she yelled, whirling towards him. “They’re bullies, and savages. They’ve been picking fights for decades with the rest of the Galaxy, but after we finally put them in their place, they’re suddenly sweet and cuddly like Setlik II and the wholesale oppression and slaughter of colonists in the Demilitarized Zone were just misunderstandings. No, I’m not a racist. I just know the Cardassians for what they are.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Sprawled across the couch in his quarters, Tom Riker dropped the PADD that he had been reading. It fell down, text-up, on top of a pile of clothes. The glowing screen illuminated the clumps of dust and dirt that had already gathered underneath his new coffee table. He had enjoyed redecorating zh’Tali’s quarters when he had become First Officer. 

A knock on the door drew his attention. He stumbled to his feet, walked over and punched the door release. He was mildly surprised to see Brandon Hobbes before him. 

“You actually knocked on the door,” Riker said, covering his surprise. “We’ve got door chimes and you knock?” 

Hobbes stepped past him. He glanced around disdainfully at the rubbish pilled on a chair before he shoved it onto the floor. “How long has it been since we’ve had a chat, Thomas?” 

“Well, gosh,” Riker smirked wandering over to the replicator and typing in a command for Albebaran whiskey,” I guess that would be your wedding. Not that we could really talk with your wife following you around like a puppy. You know, I always found her,” — his hands formed cups in front of his chest — ,”lacking. “What was her name, anyways?” 

Hobbes’ lips thinned and he said quietly,” Astrid. I never would have met her without you… With Will, I guess. It was your idea to join Starfleet. The Klingons knew that it was the last place we could go to since she was one of the evacuees from Tenneal IV. She stayed aboard the Sarajevo as a civilian specialist and I don’t expect you to understand why but … I fell in love with her. She was offered a position at the Vulcan Science Academy and took it. Then the Bajoran wormhole was discovered.

“The Sarajevo was one of the ships in the first wave of exploration. We heard rumors about the Dominion and their enforcers from the races that we encountered. By all accounts, we were well outside of their borders. I was on the Bridge at the science station when we spotted them. My… my first thought was,’ These are the soldiers of the Dominion that everyone is so afraid of? Their ships are purple!’ Then they fired through our shields like they weren’t even there. 

“We abandoned our ship. They destroyed some of the escape pods and captured others. A few of them, they just ignored, while mine crashed into an empty rock of a world. Sending out a distress signal is standard procedure, but with the Jem’hadar in orbit, I didn;t think that it was a good idea. I kept my tricorder scanning passively for any sign of the other pods. And… I waited.

“By the end of the first year, I knew that Starfleet wasn’t coming for me. That was when I started getting philosophical. We did a lot of bad things, Thomas, and I remember all of them. I started to think that maybe… maybe it was some kind of karma. Like I was being punished.

“I was marooned on that rock for four years. In that time, the Dominion had entered the Alpha Quadrant and went to war. They didn’t lose because they chose to surrender. I was picked up by a Dominion warship and they knew… they knew… that I had been there the entire time. They dropped me off at Deep Space Nine as the last of the Dominion forces left the quadrant. Starfleet Command offered early retirement and when I turned that down, they offered me extended medical leave. I turned that down too. It would have meant going back home and I knew that I would have to tell Astrid about our past and what we did.

“We did a lot of bad. I think… I think that joining Starfleet, even for the wrong reasons… it was fate. So that now we can do some good.” 

Riker sat down on the couch with his elbows on her knees. His mouth worked while he ran a hand through his hair. “Are you telling me that you’ve found religion?,” he asked him incredulously. 

“Not specifically.” 

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Thomas said, scratching his chin. “You think that after all that we’ve done, we can just ‘do good’ and … the Klingons will stop hunting us? That Krevyk will call off his blood vengeance? I’ve also noticed that you’re skirting around our ‘bad things’.” 

He looked at Brandon with a harsh look on his face. “Let’s by more specific for a minute here. How many people did you sell into slavery? And how many did you take freebies from before the deal was done? You’re going to tell Astris about that?” Hobbes stared down at his feet. “I’m sure that all of those people will feel better knowing that you’re sorry.” 

“We were wrong.” 

“We lived like kings!,” Riker yelled at him, leaning into his face. “And if I could, I’d go back!” Scowling, he turned away from him. “I’d realized that you’ve gone soft, Brandon, but I didn’t realize that you’ve gone pathetic.” 

Hobbes was blinking too much now at the revelations betwen them. He felt that he must have been delusional to come to Riker and he know that now. The possibility of redemption that had keep him alive for those four empty years was meaningless to the other man. A person had to feel contrition in order to be redeemed and Thomas Riker had no concept of regret. 

Like he had always done, he bowed his head in silent submission, rose to his feet, and walked out the door of the First Officer’s quarters. 

The End… 

17 – ‘Of Hairpins and Kar’takins’

Star Trek: Cayuga

17 – ‘Of Hairpins and Kar’takins’

By Jack Elmlinger

(With special guest author – Derek O’Brien)

“Please eat. I’ll just be a moment.” 

Jeanne Pozach stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her combadge. She smoothed out her white dress tunic and glanced at Jim Morrison. His stern gaze seemed to be approving before she stepped into the main room of her quarters. 

Vasily Keitsev stared at her from the dining room table. Curiosity moved across his face before it was replaced by an air of practiced apathy. “Party?” 

“Wedding,” she replied, sitting down across the table from him. “You don’t like the food?,” she asked him, helping herself to a cut of the meat. 

“How long are we going to keep doing this?” 

Surprised, she looked up. “This?” 

“These,” — he gestured at the table — ,” dinners every week since the Cayuga left Merak.” 

“I thought you appreciated it when the security guards stopped dining with us.” 

“Are you so desperate for company that you have to force me?,” he demanded. “Is this my punishment?” 

“You aren’t being punished,” she said lightly,” and you know that. Rehabilitation is the goal of our justice system, not vengeance.” 

“Who the hell put that in your head? Federation law course at the Academy? Hobnobbing with Esek Hrelle?” 

“Oh,” Pozach said, shrugging at his suggestions,” it was just something that Commander zh’Tali mentioned once to me.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire sat and watched as Wintamba led her new husband around the dance floor. Officers from Atlantis, the Starsong, and a little known Saber class ship named the Surefoot were mingling with their counterparts on the Cayuga. Many of them had returned from Starfleet Academy. Sean Pasko and Alice Polcheny were inscribing a small circle, a respectable distance between them. 

It was enough to make her sick. Especially after some fat Caitian captain had eaten up all of the shuris tacos!

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

She looked up to see a young human female with ponytailed strawberry-blonde hair, someone who could have come fresh out of the Academy… except for the scars that peeked above the collar of her dress uniform and her Lieutenant’s pips, and the look in her eyes, the look of someone who had seen and done much in the last few years. “Yes, Lieutenant… ?”

“Hrelle, Ma’am. Sasha Hrelle, Surefoot.”

“Aimee Maguire, Cayuga.” Aimee’s brow furrowed, and she glanced up at the Caitian captain onstage. “Any, uh… ?”

The younger woman nodded, with the expression of someone who had obviously been asked that many, many times before. “Yes, he’s my stepfather.” She was carrying a plate of shuris tacos, and set it down beside Aimee. “And yes, I spend large amounts of my time apologising for him. I saw your face when he took the last of the tacos, so I had these replicated.”

Aimee smiled. “You didn’t have to do that, Lieutenant.” She indicated the empty seat beside her, which Sasha accepted. “Really, it was no big deal. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Sasha did, demonstrating an appetite that appeared as prodigious as her stepfather’s. After swallowing a huge mouthful, she wiped her mouth and asked, “It’s been nonstop the last few weeks, with some refits being done to the Surefoot for her new mission, now that the War is over.”

“You serve under your stepfather?”

Sasha nodded, finishing the taco and moving onto another. “Temporarily. After our work on Cait during the Occupation, I was on temporary assignment with the Caitian Planetary Navy… well, what was left of it after the Ferasans invaded.”

Aimee nodded, having read a few reports on it… and on what the Caitians did to the Ferasans after their genetic cousins were driven away. “They left quite a mess.”

Sasha grunted. “The Ferasans were barbarians, worse than Orions-”

“I was referring to the Caitians. What they did to Ferasa Prime-”

Now Sasha paused, swallowed the latest mouthful and wiped her mouth again. “What they did was the end result of a thousand years of terrorism and cruelty visited upon them, time and again, by the Ferasans, culminating in the Occupation: the eugencis camps, the destruction of entire cities. While Starfleet and the Federation did little or nothing to help resolve it.”

Aimee frowned, the younger woman’s words reminding her of those people she knew who had served in the Maquis. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Then Sasha grinned, though it seemed more a forced attempt to change the subject. “Just Scent In the Wind now, as the Caitians say.” She reached for another taco. “I wanted to ask you a question, if I may: have you served on exploratory missions?”

“Me? Why, yes, why?”

The other woman munched away into the latest taco, leaving more and more crumbs and debris on the plate beneath her, and the surrounding tablecloth. “I’ve done support, tender, patrol and ambulance duties almost exclusively since before my graduation. I was curious as to what an exploratory mission might be like.”

AImee considered the question. “Long stretches of boredom, with maybe only the discovery of some lichen on a tiny planetoid in a system with a number for a name… but occasionally, if you’re lucky… a First Contact. It’s a gamble, but then so’s life.”

Sasha finished her latest taco, wipde her mouth once more, then nodded. “Thanks.” She rose. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

Aimee smiled up at her. “Maybe. Nice meeting you, Lieutenant.”

Sasha smiled back. “And you!” She departed.

Aimee smiled. Then looked down to see that the other woman had consumed all of the tacos she had brought over.

“Enjoying yourself?” 

Maguire turned away to find the captain standing at her elbow. Her white dress uniform was crisp against her brown skin and her black hair was curled up in ringlets. “It’s so romantic,” the engineer told her. “Two people declaring their eternal love before one betrays the other with some redhead on the Security track. It makes me weepy.” 

Pozach pressed the flute of champagne that she was holding in her hand. “I would say that you need this more than I do.” She gazed out over the reception. Sayvok was dancing by himself with enthusiasm if not skill. Captain Hrelle was playing guitar on the improvised stage with a hologram of some long-dead rock-and-roll musician. “It’s good to have everyone back. It’s felt too empty around here.” 

“You mean, since zh’Tali died.” 

“Yes, since zh’Tali died,” the captain replied with a hint of annoyance. 

“Why…” Aimee took a breath and expelled it in a breath. “Why do you think she did it?” 

“Maybe she knew something about the attack that she didn’t let Keitsev tell us.” 

Maguire’s face contorted into a frown for a moment. “I think she knew that somebody was going to die and she decided that it was going to be her.” 

Concern touched Jeanne’s gaze. “Aimee?” 

“Can I have access to zh’Tali’s personnel file?” 

“No, Aimee. I’m sorry but that’s still personal information.” 

“I understand.” Her gaze flickered across the dance floor. “I have to go,” she blurted out and as she threaded her way out of the Mess Hall, the Captain noticed that Sam Dixon had been watching them.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When Jeanne Pozach walked into the conference room on Starbase One-Twenty-Nine, the first person that her eyes fell upon was Councilor Bokam. The Kriosian was conversing animatedly with Admiral Myrru, reminding her of his impassioned words in Federation Council meetings. She settled uneasily into the chair beside Tom Riker and waited for the meeting to come to order. Around the rectangular table sat five other starship captains, each of them clustered with an officer or two of their own. The Cayuga’s captain smiled at Steven Talmadge and Grudak and tried to acknowledge the others. 

“Captains, let’s bring this meeting to order,” the Bolian male barked at them, sitting down at the head of the table. “I’m Admiral Jax Myrru, commander of the Tenth Fleet.” He glanced around the table. “I trust that you all know me as I know you,” — his hard gaze rested upon Pozach — ,” by reputation if by nothing else.” She felt her eyebrows rise slightly but he moved on. 

“Since the day of its inception, Starfleet has been an organization meant to explore,” he said grandly. “It has been far too long since we’ve been able to do that.” 

From his left side, Bokam spoke up,” The Federation Council had requested that Starfleet renew its emphasis on scientific research and obtaining knowledge. With the cessation of hostilities within the Cardassian Union and the end of the Maquis threat, we have an ideal opportunity.” 

Myrru glowered at the councilor’s interruption but he waited until the politician was finished before he continued,” There are vast areas of space beyond the Cardassian Union that, aside from basic surveys done by the Cardassian Ninth Order, have never been studied. You and your ships have been selected to do that.” 

He made a small motion and a Lieutenant appeared out of nowhere, slowly moving around the table and handing out PADDs. 

“There are three mission paths where we are assigning a science vessel and a support ship to each of them. Captain Boldt of the Diplomat and Captain Anabi of the Eclipse will take Patth A. Captain Talmadge of the Patseyev and Captain Farbright of the Hephaestus will take Path B while Captain M’Roaki of the Juneau and Captain Pozach of the Cayuga take Path C.” 

Pozach studied her PADD and at the top of the tiny screen was a wash of purple that indicated the rimward border of the Cardassian border. In the upper right-hand corner was the blue of the lowest end of the United Federation of Planets. From the emblem representing Starbase One-Twenty-Nine, three dotted lines moved outward and into the unknown. The dotted line indicating the Cayuga and the Juneau’s course skirted Cardassian space, reaching deep into the unknown regions before leisurely looping back to the Starbase. 

“Councilor Bokam will be joining the expedition aboard the Juneau for a diplomatic mission with the Tholians,” the admiral added to their mission briefing. “The exploration force will depart in twenty hours. Good luck to you all.” 

At the Admiral’s dismissal, the other officers stood up from their chairs. Riker blinked his eyes and looked around. “Can we go now?,” he asked her. 

A tall shadow fell over her and Pozach looked up. From above, a Caitian woman offered her her paw. “Captain Pozach? I’m Captain M’Roaki.” 

Pozach rose up from her chair and shook the Caitian’s paw. She looked at the Vulcan beside her but she didn’t offer up an introduction. “Captain, would you and your First Officer like to join us aboard the Cayuga to go over our projected course?” 

M’Roaki’s smile was almost a smirk, only with teeth. “Why don’t we work aboard my ship? It’s a bit cozier.” Without waiting for a response, she and her First Officer left the room. 

“I don’t think I like her,” Riker whispered to her conspiratorially and she snorted at his joke. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire smirked as the isolinear chip slid into her computer. The emblem of Starfleet appeared briefly before it was replaced by a picture of Davi zh’Tali and columns of text augmented by several files.

“Aces,” she whispered to herself. 

The test was a simple timeline of the Andorian’s career. She had graduated from the Academy in 2364 and she was assigned to the Victory in 2365. After the Victory, she transferred to the Borg Defense Initiative in 2367 on a classified assignment. zh’Tali had spent seven years there before she was transferred to the vaunted 383rd at the outbreak of war with the Dominion. The next several lines detailed commendations and medals that she had been awarded for her actions in combat. The last two entries had reported the commander’s transfer to the Cayuga and her subsequent death. 

The most recent auxiliary file had been left by Jeanne Pozach. Aimee triggered it and Jeanne’s exhausted voice filled the room. “Commander Namach told me about the brutality of Commander zh’Tali’s attack on the black marketeers, despite my specific request that she not kill.” There was a sigh before she continued her report. “I don’t believe that a formal reprimand will deter her but I’m going to talk to her instead and see if I can make her understand why this behavior isn’t acceptable.” 

“I wonder how that talk turned out,” Aimee muttered sarcastically as she scanned the next file. It was dated back to the early days of the Dominion War and it had been filed by a Captain Terranova. An unfamiliar voice spoke when she triggered it. 

“I admit that I wasn’t impressed when Starfleet Command finished assigning my squad. Wiebach is an obvious attempt to keep an eye on us. He’s too normal… too mainstream.” Excitement entered his voice. “But zh’Tali… she may be a real officer. She may have graduated from the Academy but she’s just like us. With so much rage inside of her, only Stavek can match her for sheer savagery.” Aimee’s eyebrows rose at this “I suppose that the only difference is that she doesn’t enjoy the slaughter like we do or, at least, not afterwards.” 

Aimee sat in silence, almost afraid to open the next file. Slowly, she did. 

“I’ve promoted zh’Tali to Lieutenant Commander,” said the voice that belonged to a Commander Elizabeth Shelby. “Her antipersonnel tactics are inspired, although in time, they lack the finesse of our other projects.” There was a pause and the sound of PADDs being shuffled across a desktop was heard in the background. “Lieutenant sh’Driban is concerned about her mental state, especially in light of her recent name change. She tells me that zh’Tali is Andorii for ‘vengeance’ and I understand her concerns but I think they’re exaggerated. zh’Tali has a well-refined sense of duty and ours is a mutually beneficial arrangement. She gives us her expertise in small-unit combat techniques and we give her a shot at destroying the Borg. As she keeps telling us, it’s all she wants.” 

The recording ended and Aimee found herself staring at the woman frozen on the monitor screen. She dove deeper into the file and discovered that zh’Tali had once been known as Davi zh’Siaar. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

From the window of her study at her bond family’s home on Mars, Thanadyshen sh’Diaar watched her son peddle his hover-bike over the red clay. The terminal on her desk chirped and she turned to see an incoming subspace transmission. It was from Davi’s ship so she quickly accepted it, revealing a blond woman in gold departmental colors. She recognized her as the Cayuga’s Chief Engineer. 

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” 

Aimee brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “I need to talk.” 

The End…

16 – ‘After Toil’

Star Trek: Cayuga 

16 – ‘After Toil’

By Jack Elmlinger

“Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas,, 

Ease after war, death after life does greatly please.”

– Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene

“Davi zh’Tali was an exemplary Starfleet officer. We didn’t always agree but that made me a better Captain, and her, in my opinion, a great First Officer. You knew her as a strong woman who defeated twenty-six Jem’hadar. Now you know her as a brave woman who saved the lives of countless Cardassians and Sr’khymer’arni.” 

The table and chairs had been removed but the Mess Hall was still filled to capacity. From her position in front of the windows, Captain Jeanne Pozach watched her officers. Sean Pasko and Aimee Maguire stood side-by-side with ambivalent expressions on their faces. The only person in the crowded room who was showing real anguish was Admiral Thanadyshen sh’Diaar. Her red eyes and the speed with which she had arrived by starship only attested to the depth of her feelings. 

“With reverence, we commit our heroic dead to the depths of space,” she continued before she tapped her combadge. “Bridge, go ahead.” 

An orange flash exploded from beneath her and a single photon torpedo launched away into the dark void of space. It was a symbolic gesture since there was nothing remaining of zh’Tali’s body. “I hope you’re happy now,” Pozach murmured as she turned to watch the torpedo blink out of sight.

Pasko and Maguire weaved through the dispersing crowd. “Nice speech,” he said as they approached their commanding officer. 

Pozach smiled weakly. “Thank you. It was from the heart.” She watched absently at her chief engineer who was absently scratching at the wound healing on her forehead. “Aimee, do you have a repair estimate?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Maguire said with a grimace. “We’re in a bad way. It’s not just this last battle either. Since our last overhaul, we’ve fought in four major battles, Cindel, Laiat Prime, Norgo, and now this. We repaired all of the other damage without the benefit of a shipyard but we’ve reached the limits of what we can do.” She sighed at the thought. “It’s time to go home.” 

“The Merak Fleet Yards are three weeks away at Warp Seven,” Pasko commented. 

Pozach nodded her assent. “Have Mister Riker request an opening at the yard and set a course. First, however, we have a few more things to attend to.” Her gaze moved over to Admiral sh’Diaar who stood alone at a window and she excused herself. 

sh’Diaar glanced up as she approached the older Andorian shen. “Captain,” she said quietly. 

“Can the Cayuga deliver you back to Starbase Three-Five-Nine, Admiral?” 

“No, but thank you. My ship is taking me to my bondmates on Mars. I would be grateful, though, if I could have Davi’s possession. I am her … next of kin.” 

“Sir?,” Pozach bleated in surprise. 

“She never told you and I didn’t expect her to. She was my bondmate, my wife… and you wouldn’t know it to look at her but she had long white hair when she was younger… like mine.” sh’Diaar placed a hand on the window, squinting to try to catch a last glimmer of the torpedo. 

“I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll have her effects transported to your ship,” the Cayuga’s captain promised her. 

“Thank you,” the Admiral said, lifting her hand away from the window. “Goodbye, Captain,” she continued, offering her a wan smile. “Good luck to you and your crew.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It had been too long since she had been able to fly and ch’Eenar’s raider was a gorgeous craft. Pozach landed the Peregrine class courier on a rise of dull orange rock and powered it down. When she stepped through the hatch, a large bag was slung over her shoulder. The Andorian terrorist was waiting for her, standing with his shoulders back imperiously. Lieutenant Ntannu was standing behind him, leaning on his cane. 

“Lieutenant,” she ordered upon her approach,” wait for me in the ship.” 

“Well, Captain?,” ch’Eenar asked her once they were alone at the base of the rise. “Have you come to lecture me on the morality of murdering Cardassians? Because I can dance around with that one all night long.” 

“You think that we’re dancing?,” Pozach asked him quietly 

“Foxtrot, tango, and I always lead.” He smiled at her, gesturing at the phaser holstered on her hip. “Have you realized that the stockades on Jaros II can’t hold me? Have you decided to kill me instead?” 

Pozach stared at his bravado for a moment. “At the beginning of the Maquis movement, I’ve been told that the objective wasn’t to kill Cardassians but rather to free your homeworlds from their domination.” 

“Of course, it was. None of us wanted to live at war. We tried to reason with the spoonheads but our words fell onto deaf ears. My home world of Korem was settled by Andorian traditionalists. Traditionalists, Captain, who had no technology any more advanced than artificial refrigeration units. When the Cardassians came to Korem, they demanded quotes of precious metals that we couldn’t possibly meet. When we failed to do what they wanted, we were wiped out and that is the only thing that the Cardassians understand.” 

“As part of the Treaty of Bajor, the Federation reclaimed all of the contested colonies from the Cardassians,” she told him, tossing the bag at his feet. “You won. Eighty kilometers to the south, there is a settlement. I’ve spoken with the people there and should you choose to go, you’ll be welcomed.” She indicated the bag at his feet. “There’s enough supplies in that bag to last you for six days. Maybe ten if you stretch it.” 

“And what about my ship?,” ch’Eenar asked her, glancing up at the courier’s sleep hull. 

“The cloaking device is being returned to the Klingon Empire. The rest of the ship is slated to be analyzed and recommissioned by Starfleet.” 

“Oh,” the Andorian chen said, his rugged face falling just a bit,” I just can’t stand the thought of her being with another man.” 

Pozach shrugged and turned around on her heel. She reached the raider’s hatch when his voice stopped her. 

“Captain?” 

She turned around and nodded at him. 

“Captain, this punishment… marooning me… is this just because you’re too afraid to kill me?” 

Behind her, she heard the engines warming up as Ntannu prepared the ship for takeoff. Over the noise, she shouted,” Welcome home, Mister ch’Eenar!” 

The ship lifted up into the skies of Korem before reaching the stars. 

The End…