Jeremie wanted to scream “Stop calling me a child!” but held her tongue. She took the news of the alien in stride bit she knew she’d endangered the mission by allowing Xiang and Fisher into the airlock. She also knew that now that she did know about Aycharaych, she was more sure of one thing.
“So what do we do now, Gul? I believe someone on board the Franklin may be working for an opposing faction. I cannot put you back in the pod. And I won’t destroy the Stellar Vengance. No inncocent lives, not even Cardassian ones.”
“My dear, you have no choice. Somehow we have to get me to my original destination”
“Most importantly, you must convince your Captain to trust me, that she may remain ignorant of Aycharaych and you and I may complete the mission.”
The door to the Cardassian escape pod hissed open again, and Capt. Xiang stepped through. Collins saw Cmdr. John Ross and several Security officers arrayed behind her, hand phasers drawn.
“Some things never change, Sheket,” she said quietly. “You think violence will solve any problem, and you talk far too much. I was listening in through Lt. Cmdr. Collins’s combadge, which we activated remotely. This Aycharaych - or do you mean ‘HRH,’ perhaps? - won’t die, if I have anything to do with it. And our mission to the Pelleri system is going to succeed, no matter what you had in mind.”
“But, Captain…” Collins said.
Xiang shook her head. “I’ve heard more than enough already. You’re relieved of duty, Collins, and under arrest.”
“On what charge?” the young officer flared.
“Suspicion of conspiracy and treason. Lt. T’Parel is now acting Chief of Security. Mr. Ross, please see that Collins and Sheket are thoroughly searched and scanned, and then put them in the Brig. Separate cells, out of line of sight and earshot of each other. Restrict computer access and disable all communications links to each. Then do a top-to-bottom search and scan of her cabin, and of this escape pod.” She looked around thoughtfully. “There’s a deeper game going on here, and this pod is part of it.”
“Aye, Captain,” the First Officer said. He gestured with his phaser. “This way, Mr. Collins, Gul Sheket.”
The two looked at one another for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, Sheket carefully put the broken bottle of kanar down. They both stepped out of the lifepod, and a Security ensign raised his tricorder to scan them.
Gul Sheket smirked or smiled, it was difficult to tell. "Does this mean, Captain that dinner is off? I was so looking forward to the…‘Red Eye Gravy’. "
The throwing knife felt unusually heavy against his back, just below his neck. If the human with the tricorder asked him to give it to him when he found it, as he would in a few seconds, he was confident he could kill the human with the weapon, and then the tricorder maven. However, Collins would surely not co operate in killing them, indeed, would probably come to their aid. And there would be no help from Xiang if he began killing her crew.
What was that English swear word she had taught him aboard the Akron? Tuck, buck, truck. Truck. “Well, this is just trucking great!” she would say.
There would be some gathering of some sort on Pilliri, a dinner party, or drinks, or even a business meeting of the concerned parties. Aycharaych probably already knew what the Pilliri had, and what it was worth to them. After that meeting, he would know what the Earthers, the Romulans, the Cardassians and the Feneghi would do to their mothers to get it. And very, very soon after that, the power he worked for would know. Section 31 thought he worked for the Romulans. The Obsidian Order thought he worked for an unknown species, from somehwere outside the quadrant. A species even more cunning than the Cardassians, to acquire territory while they were still unknown. That was frightning to the Order, so frightning that the death of the crew of the Stellar Vengeance was nothing compared to placing an agent unknown to anyone near Aycharaych.
He could kill the one with the weapon, then Collins, then the tricorder.
No, he wouldn’t kill the human female. She trusted him, and one must draw the line somewhere. Besides, Xiang would not be pleased.
He relaxed, and prepared to surrender the weapon. Of course, he could still break the oaf’s arm, just to keep in practice…
At that moment, several young officers were gathered in the Franklin’s Ten Forward lounge.
“It was the battle,” said Ens. Brendan Aldrich.
“No, the scientist,” said Lt. JG Elizabeth Babb.
“The explorer,” insisted Ens. Gennadi Somov.
Lt. T’Parel, the assistant Chief of Security, joined them at their table, a steaming mug of redleaf tea in her hand. She raised an elegantly tapered eyebrow. “What is the subject of the dispute this time, may I ask?” Aldrich, Babb and Somov were notorious for arguing about anything under the suns.
“We’re debating who the Franklin is named after,” Babb said. The communications specialist, clad in the mustard-yellow tunic of Operations, was a willowy young Englishwoman with a warm smile. “These two deluded fellows think Starfleet had someone, or something, else in mind. Obviously it was Ben Franklin, the inventor and scientist. Quite an impressive Earth historical figure.”
“It was the battle,” Aldrich, a Security officer and military-history buff. “The American Civil War, Franklin, Tennessee, December 1864. Sometimes called the ‘Gettysburg of the West,’ and the last fight of Gen. Patrick Cleburne.” The Rigel IV native took a sip of synthehol.
Somov, a Conn officer fresh out of the Academy, scoffed as he raised his glass of Dorwinion merlot. “It had to have been Sir John Franklin, the Arctic explorer. Who else?”
“I’d have to agree with Mr. Babb,” T’Parel said. “Although there was also a warship during Earth’s World War II of that name, if memory serves.”
“See!” Babb said.
“Hmmm. Care to make it interesting?” Aldrich asked with a speculative smile. “Ten credits? Fifty? Or payment in kind?”
“If you’re thinking of what I think you’re thinking, you Rigellian sicko, not a chance,” Babb said with a laugh. “I could go for ten credits, though.”
“Da, I’m in, too,” Somov agreed.
“Done,” said Aldrich. “How about you, Lt. T’Parel?”
The Vulcan woman shook her head as she took a deep drink of her tea.
“As you wish.” Aldrich tapped his combadge. “Computer!” His combadge chirped. “Search Starfleet records. Who or what was the starship Franklin named after?”
After a few seconds, the ship’s computer said, “Starfleet archives and the Federation Council appropriation for its construction indicate the Franklin was named after the American diplomat, scientist and inventor Benjamin Franklin.”
Babb crossed her arms and grinned. “Told you. I’ll expect your payments in my account by the end of the day, gentlement.”
Somov and Aldrich looked at each other. “Let’s go double or nothing,” Aldrich said. “What would you say to…”
T’Parel’s combadge sounded. It was the Captain: “Lt. T’Parel, report to the Brig on the double.”
She put down her tea and tapped her combadge. “Acknowledged. On my way…”
When the airlock cycled and the pod awoke, the transfer began. No one seriously expected that pod to go unscanned or unopened. No one even expected the pod to be ejected into Stellar Vengeance’s debris field, though Gul Sheket had a plan prepared in case he could arrange it. No, such an enigma as the pod was there to find the people clever enough to scan it without thinking they’d been caught scanning it.
Collins had reported “Mr. Wolfe” to Admiral Rostow but was told to simply follow orders. So she did, and wasn’t naive either. She found the modifications made to her personal security algorithms that Section 31 had made. But all it did was record any energy readings or access into the airlock which is what she wanted to monitor anyway. It would just try to send the data over any open com channel disguised as noise, and that part she deactivated. What she didn’t expect was the overreaction and being placed in the brig. She hoped Admiral Rostow would get wind of this and tell the Captain that she wasn’t conspiring with Section 31.
Meanwhile the innocent repair program that was placed by the spy (well, one of them) was running. That little patch fixed certain communication programs that were supposed to communicate but were broken. A handy background program to have running, but one a little too zealous at the moment. And so Collin’s program was “fixed” and the ship’s record of scans into the airlock were transmitted. And the pod’s record of scans to itself were sent right along too. Section 31 was monitoring of course and picked up these little nuggets of information. All in the pursuit of people who thought they were too clever to be found. Section 31 needed people who could remain hidden and still collect information. Fisher’s nova-fisted scans were ignored, but the subtle ones correlated with the pod’s records and pointed to devious minds lurking elsewhere. Minds lured from Starbase 165 onto Franklin and whisked into a mission they didn’t yet suspect.
Cmdr. Ross marched back to discuss the duty roster with the Captain and confirm the change in the schedule for the 43 new personnel assigned at Starbase 165 - only a mere few of which were not who they claimed to be.
Vice Adm. Ellington figured that nobody would think twice about a new bartender and, for the most part, he was right. The first thing one would notice about Samantha Wilson was her ice-blue eyes; patrons occasionally got lost in them. She’s a bit shorter than average, 27, with raven hair. Sam, having overheard T’Parel’s communication from the captain, approached the acting security chief. “Pardon me, Lieutanant, mind if I tag along?”
“This is a security matter.”
“I’m aware of that. You are familiar with the notion of comfort food, yes? I think the Lt. Comm. could use some comfort about now.”
“I do not presume”, T’Parel stated, “but were I to do so, I would presume that I have been summoned not to offer social amenities to Commander Collins, but to see to the veracity of Gul Sheket’s statements. Neither prisoner is to be permitted visitors by order of Captain Xiang. Perhaps you should make a request through First Officer Ross.”
“Understood. Some other time, then.” Sam paused. “I was also hoping to scare up a game of chess–the only true place for a pawn.”
T’Parel cocked an eyebrow at “pawn” as she headed for the door.
Humans, reflected T’Parel, the most illogical of creatures. She entered the brig. “Captain. T’Parel, reporting.”
Capt. Xiang looked tired. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Things are moving rather quickly here. I’ve relieved Mr. Collins of duty and placed her under arrest. A Cardassian officer, concealed aboard the Franklin at Starbase 165, is also in custody. You’re now acting Chief of Security, pending approval from Starfleet Command. The First Officer is seeing to the search and scan of Gul Sheket’s lifepod, which had been installed in Airlock 4, and of Collins’s quarters. Familiarize yourself with the audio record of her and Sheket’s conversation, please, and then I want you to interrogate both separately. Or together, if you think it would be useful. You have some interrogation experience, as I recall?”
“Yes, sir. I was attached to Starfleet Intelligence for a year, and often debriefed Cardassian prisoners of war aboard the Budapest.”
“Good. Follow standard Starfleet interrogation protocols; respect their rights but get to the bottom of this.”
T’Parel, an unflappable Vulcan to the core, nodded coolly, as if this sort of thing happened every day. “Of course. What did you wish me to learn from them?”
Xiang ticked off her fingers. “What’s Sheket doing here, what’s his connection to Vice Adm. Rostow, who or what is this ‘HRH’ he spoke of, and how does Collins fit into the puzzle? And how, if at all, were they going to interfere with our mission to the Pelleri? We’re just two days from arriving in-system, and I need answers as soon as possible.”
“Understood, Captain.”
HRH, HRH…His Royal Highness? Her? Collins was really a Pelleri princess? “Aycharaych”! Aych ar aych! And Sheket had thought it some secret message. He laughed despite his situation. In one of the spy novels his Third Wife was so addicted to, it would have been. He remembered her, climbing from a pool. She had swum into a Eurayle ferox, an Earth water plant imported to Cardassia as an ornamental. A water lily that held it’s blooms beneath the water, leaves and stems covered with rose sized thorns. There were petals in her hair, and she had pricked her face. He brushed the petals from her hair, kissed the drop of blood away; she was shivering, and he rubbed her shoulders to warm her. He could cover the beautiful, tiny ridges from shoulder to neck with one hand…His laughter ceased as suddenly as it began. Oh, to be in the Steam Caves if Cardassia Prime…and in one of her novels he would have some miniature communication device, to call his cloaked ship, and beam to the rescue of a maiden with comely, ivory ridges…He began to laugh again, deep Cardassian laughter from far down in his gut. He doubled over, and when he looked up, a characteristically slim Vulcan woman in the uniform of Starfleet Security was staring at him.
She glanced from the bleak, gray starboard wall to the bleak, gray port wall and the equally bleak, gray stern wall of his cell. “I am pleased that you find your stay amusing. I am Lieutenant T’Parel, head of Security. I will ask you some questions concerning your presence here.”
Sheket abruptly quit laughing. “And I hope that I may amuse you, Lieutenant.”
“What is the purpose of your presence on the Franklin?”
“I am working on a combined intelligence effort of Cardassia and the Federation to stop a true telepath from disrupting the Pelleri process, and gaining knowledge from the attendants thereof. You, by the way, have just joined the group of beings who must on no account be within visual range of Aycharaych.”
“And why is that?” inquired T’Parel.
“He is the only member know of an avian species, a true telepath. He need not touch his subject, as in a mind meld. Nor does he sense generalities as a Betazoid. Upon sight of any being, he can read every thought, as though it were a PADD. My government believes him to be employed by a species from outside the quadrant."
T’Parel did not pause. “What do you know of Vice Admiral Rostow?”
“Not a trucking thing.”
T’Parel frowned. “I do not understand the reference to Terran transportation.”
Sheket smirked. “It is an English curse, taught to me by your Captain when I was her guest.”
“You were a prisoner of the Captain.”
“We shared an interest in foreign cuisine.”
“Have you a family, Gul?”
Would you like to see them again? would be the next question, Sheket thought. “I have no family. Cardassian parents kill the weaker siblings and feed them to the stronger.” Dead panned Sheket.
T’Parel stared at him.
“My Deity, your species truly has no sense of humor!” exclaimed Sheket.
never mind
T’Parel stared at him.
“My Deity, your species truly has no sense of humor!” exclaimed Sheket.
Cmdr T’Parel concluded she would make better progress talking to the Human in the other cell. When she approached Collins’ cell, the former Chief of Security was lying on her cot, facing the wall. “Commander,” T’Parel began in typical Vulcan monotone
Jeremie rolled over to face her visitor. Oh great, just peachy, she thought. I trained you, you sunuvabitch! “Commander” Jeremie returned the greeting in the same monotone
T’Parel glanced at her PADD and the looked directly into Collins’ eyes. “You are accused of insubordination”
“I was under orders from Section 31! That supercedes any orders that may or may not have come from the Captain”
Chief Collins said, “I was under orders from Section 31! That supercedes any orders that may or may not have come from the Captain” The absurdity hit her as she said those words aloud. Vice Admiral Rostow gave her valid orders, but the Captain was where ones duty truly lies. “Lies”, thought Collins. Lieing to herself that the fast-track was in playing in the big leagues instead of doing ones job. Mother warned her that her Irish temper and arrogance would betray her. Blinded by a new assignment she forgot where her duty lies.
“And what are those orders?” asked T’Parel.
“Admiral Rostow gave clearance and directions to meet a Mr. Nero Wolfe, to follow sealed orders, and to install some cargo in the airlock. The sealed orders were to be opened two days before reaching the Pelleri system. Mr. Wolfe directed me to be sure the ship stayed on course at all costs and not to scan or allow anyone else to scan the cargo. When the time came I found the orders held a transmitter, codes, and instructions to destroy the Cardassian ship Stellar Vengeance. I follow orders, even Section 31’s when directed by an Admiral, but not an obviously twisted scheme by some Section 31 nutjob.” Collins slumped and let out a sigh. “Either the Admiral’s been duped or I almost was.” She straightened a bit. “But I’m a Federation Officer. A bit overzealous at times, but loyal to the Federationa and my Captain.”
T’Parel checked her PADD and found that sensors registered Collins telling the truth. The emotions expressed were genuine and T’Parel knew they meant a great deal to those who express them.
“There is no section 31,” said T’Parel calmly.
“Oh, you’re not that naive!” flared Collins. T’Parel glanced at her PADD and confirmed the emotional outburst. That was a test to be sure that Collins wasn’t faking any of the previous emotions.
Aycharaych tried to smile. It was difficult to mimic the humanoid gesture, given that his species had an avian ancestor. Will he did not have a bill, his lips could best be described as “comprised of bony ridges”. The Federation report further described his arms as “vestigial wings, the hands comprised of long bones averaging 30 centimeters”, “sparsely covered with feathers”, and “Scaly legs, the knees hinged in the opposite manner of humanoids”.
Disgusting, hairy creatures, humanoids, with those obscene looking fleshy knobs of nose.
The Mayor of New Pelleri was mouthing something about city improvements, while thinking of comparisons of Aycharaych with the creature his family had avidly devoured last night. Aycharaych acted attentive. Soon the other humanoids would arrive, to buy what these sly creatures were selling, and he would learn much for his employers.
Including, from Captain Xiang, the self destruct codes for the USS Franklin. He was compiling quite a list of Federation starships that wouldn’t last long in the coming fight.
He smiled. The pay was excellent, if the company almost unbearable.
“I have to talk to the Captain” Collins was visbily agitated.
T’Parel raised one eyebrow “That is not going to happen, Commander”
“Look, you and I go way back. Altho we’ve never been close, we’ve known each other for years, and I’ve watched you zoom up through the ranks. I know you’re smart enough to know that I would never jeopardize anyone’s life. So when I say I need to talk to Captain Ziang, trust that I am trying to save lives here”
“I’d listen to her,” Sheket called from his cell “She’s very intuitive”
Trinaj returned to her quarters after her shift in Sickbay. Though her roommates were still on shift she took her PADD into the bathroom for added privacy. It’s odd, she reflected for the millionth time, how so many species go to such lengths to keep waste elimination private.
She stretched comfortably backwards, started her yoga, and accessed her mail. In a message from her brother was a new game program. She played it briefly, just long enough to see that it was about a water sprite searching for a lost prince. Then she opened one of the attached level files with the encryption program. The data indicated that a very subtle attempt to access sensor data in the airlock had been made through a series of relays from a storage room on deck ten. She accessed the personnel locator logs with the security codes provided and identified who had been in that storage room when the data was retrieved.
She closed her PADD and finished her exercises in the main quarters. A few minutes later her comm sounded. “Come in please,” she said. The door hissed open and Samantha Wilson stood in the doorway. “I’m the ship’s bartender, unofficial hostess, and welcoming committee. I just wanted to welcome you aboard.” Samantha held out a drink in a colorful glass. “Again, please come in,” Trinaj said and gestured toward a chair.
Captain’s Log, Stardate 43133.1. We’re now less than six hours from arrival in the Pelleri system. Lt. T’Parel has had an earful from both prisoners, but is convinced that they’re both holding something back on her. I tend to agree…
Xiang and Ross sat in the Captain’s Ready Room.
“A complete search and scan of Sheket’s lifepod told us little we didn’t know already,” the First Officer said. “Likewise Collins’s quarters. She had a tricorder hidden behind an access panel, however. Lt. T’Parel tells me it has seven large files under an encryption program that she hasn’t been able to break yet.”
“What does Collins say the files are?”
“She denies that it’s even her tricorder. Says someone concealed it in her quarters.”
Xiang grunted. “The way things are going, I wouldn’t be terribly surprised.”
Ross nodded. “Not exactly a milk run, is it?”
“Well, it’s not Raisa. Was there anything else, John?”
He looked down at his PADD. “Two things. Lt. Nkembe received a supplemental report from the Yosemite about the subspace anomaly we encountered. He thought you might like to see it.”
“Thanks. Our Science Officer is admirably thorough. And?”
“Chief Engineer Fisher reports an intermittent, two-percent field variance in the port nacelle.”
“The warp coils again?”
“Yes. Just like before. Coils 1, 2, 4 and 7.”
Xiang groaned a little, shaking her head. “We were supposed to have those replaced at Cirdan. I should have insisted on it. Hell, I should have insisted on a complete refit. We were overdue, damn it.”
“We’ll probably be fine,” the First Officer said half-heartedly. “Just have to keep an eye on them.”
“We both know better than that, John. I don’t like going on a mission of this importance without my ship being perfectly squared away. We’ll have enough going on without having to wonder how reliable the warp drive is.”
“Even if we have to shut down the port nacelle, we can still make Warp 4.”
She sighed. “I know. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. All right. Tell Lt. Cmdr. Fisher…”
Her combadge sounded. “Captain to the Bridge.”
“On my way.”
She and Ross walked through the door to the Franklin’s Bridge. Lt. Jacob Scheitz rose from the center chair.
“Report,” the Captain said as she took her seat.
“Sensors have picked up a small, alien ship dead ahead, ma’am,” Scheitz, the duty Ops officer, said. “It’s just sitting there. Sensors show a crew of six, with minimal weapons and shielding. Its drive is like nothing we’ve ever seen. In fact, we have no record of this type of ship.”
“Pelleri?” Ross asked, sitting down next to the Captain.
“Possibly, sir. Not Romulan, in any event. We’re analyzing its drive residue trail now, to see if we can figure out where it came from.”
The Captain thought for a moment. “Slow to impulse.”
“They’re hailing us,” Ens. Aldrich said from the Tactical console.
“Onscreen,” Xiang said, rising to her feet.