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…