Behold, A Pale Horse
Posted on Thu Oct 12th, 2023 @ 7:27pm by Lieutenant JG Ryland Dedeker & Lieutenant Commander Finley Chu & Lieutenant Sophie Xiong & Lieutenant Calderon Jarsdel & Lieutenant Commander Leonora Wolf MD
4,933 words; about a 25 minute read
Mission:
Season 1 Interlude II (E5.5)
Location: Epsilon-Ceti Outpost
Timeline: ID 6
The Phantom docked at the Epsilon-Ceti Outpost under a new fake registry marking it as the USS Ilium, a salvaged Defiant that sat out most of the Dominion War after the First Battle of Chin'toka. Ryland had scarcely let the engines die down before he was off helm and at the airlock.
"Let's go!" he hollered at the others.
Leah was out next, weapon in hand, cure secured in a case in her backpack. She glanced over at Fin with a grin, "it's been a while since we did a rescue op together." She whispered to the dark haired woman.
"And yet it never seems to get more fun, now does it." Fin said with a shrug. Her own phaser was in her holster. Instead her hands had a tricorder in it, set on a wide sensor sweep looking for life signs.
Moving swiftly with the group, but keeping the rear guard, Cal followed suit. He had to have Ryland's voice in his ears, but his main focus needed to be on protecting the team and reconnaissance across all his available bandwidths. So Cal watched with his eyes and listened with his mind, surveying sentience as meticulously as he was able. He set up a mental shield with the intention of protecting himself, guarding against deliberate or random mental or aural attacks and he paid close attention to the world around him and their team.
A few minutes in, and a few twists and turns around the station later. Fin's tricorder flashed red, a silent alarm alerting her. She grabbed Ryland's shoulder, halting their pilot mid step. She glanced meaningfully at Leah, raising three fingers on her free hand while holstering her tricorder. That hand then went to her phaser while her glance switched to Cal. "At least three. Seem to be humans."
"Stay where you are," called out a strong voice which sounded accustomed to giving orders. A two-pip LT in a gold-tinged Starfleet uniform stepped out from around the corner, apparently leaving his team behind. "Outpost Security. You are an unscheduled arrival. How did you dock and board without clearance?"
Cal scoured the man's mind for an in, seeking out anything he could use that wouldn't entirely come out of left field. Right now, with at least two others out of sight and armed, it was best to infiltrate quietly, if they had that option. He pulled the man's name from his mind and addressed him by it, then added. "You told me to stop by next time I was in the sector," Cal said, sounding calm and confident. "You set me up a clearance. Did you forget or is this just a bad time?" Succeed or fail, at the very least it gave Wolf and Chu a chance to move into position, potentially take the LT's buddies out of the equation.
The LT cocked his head at Cal with mixed emotions that quickly turned from skepticism to fear. "Oh." After taking a step back and leaning around the corner, the LT dismissed the rest of his team. "Seemed strange that the buyer traveled light. Didn't even have any help to carry the package out, Nausicaan or no." Staring at Cal with eyes that squinted open and closed like he expected to wake up, the LT said, "Strange, though, that he didn't mention anyone else coming..." But then he shrugged. "Not that he said much at all either. Anyway, get down to the maintenance level before they get twitchy. Won't be another security sweep for half an hour."
Leah noted the timeframe in her head as pulled her long, wavy blonde mane out of her ponytail and spread it above her shoulders and opened up the zipper of her jacket a bit, revealing cleavage. She put a sway into her hips as she sauntered over by Cal's side, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning on her tippy toes, giving him a wet smack on the cheek. "Ae thought de guy set yoo up wit' everythink, Bozhe moj." She affected a slavic accent, "ar yoo shuur dis is it?"
"Yeah, darlin', I'm sure." Was the telepath's external response. While internally he was multi-tasking external mind reading and internal vocalisation.
Perfect, realised Cal, as he relaxed into Leah's play-acting while simultaneously paying close underlying attention to Two-Pip. This guy was obviously shady as fuck, which was an unexpected bonus. "Half an hour," Cal said, simply. "Yup, plenty of time." He sighed as if he'd expected more from his inside-man and verbally nudged while taking the same information from the man's mind. "And maintenance is which way, exactly?" He asked, given his 'recently acquired clearance' attested to this being his first time here.
The LT narrowed his brow, his natural suspicion rising up against the telepathic subversion. "Maybe I'd better show you..."
"Sank yoo." Leah nodded, smiling at the Lieutenant, her arm still around Cal's waist. She noticed the subtle micro-expressions in the man's face, hoping that Cal was onto it too.
Hopefully, Fin and Ryland would follow close enough to get the drop on the LT and his friend.
"Out of my way, fuckstick." Ryland pushed past the LT and stomped toward the nearest turbolift. "Don't need a chaperone."
Where Wolf had adopted a more powerful persona, Fin instead chose to turn herself into a meek shadow. She scurried after Ryland, head bowed, eyes hidden behind her hair.
Rather than be offended or put out, the shady LT was set at his ease. "All right, then. Get in and then get out. No screwing around." And then he left them to their unsavory business.
"Ya'll just gonna' stand there?" Ryland asked just as the turbolift doors opened.
"Wot blek hell did you krawled out of your ass?" Leah clipped back as she stepped in behind him, pretending to drag Cal along, "come on, darlink!"
"Let's just get this done," said Cal, making a point of waiting until the turbolift doors were firmly closed and they were moving. He looked to Ryland and sent telepathically ~She's still alive. We can get her out of here if we work together.~
"I don't like it," Ryland said out loud, not caring who heard. "That motherfucker back there smells like trouble. Starfleet officers can break bad by themselves but they don't run side gigs alone. That boy has friends. We can't be dickin' around in here or we'll end up in an accident report."
Fin had positioned herself just next to the door, and out of sight of the local. Her tricorder had already found her way back into her hand and she adjusted several things on it. "They wouldn't even need to do much to this lift for us to die in it."
"We have a big advantage on them," Cal said simply, his patience holding out externally while he silently cursed Ryland's need for speed over sensible. Covert here would get them Sophie's location, running in would likely just end with injuries all around. But, hey, at worst, said the practical side of the telepath's mind, Ryland's saviour complex and impatience would make a good distraction.
~He's going to end up in an accident report one way or another~ Cal's mind told Fin's directly. ~I vote pincer movement. Distraction, diversion, extraction.~
You go one way, I'll go the other.
The muffled sounds of the station were even harder to track than the periodic start and stop of the container Sophie had been stuffed inside. At some point, she woke up from being knocked out while folded into a fetal position. Louder voices surrounded her now. They were her only warning for the top of the container to be lifted.
"See?" said Jaglikar the lead Pakled. "A lying Starfleet officer. She pretends to be Vulcan and lies about it, so watch out."
“Wha-?” slurred a very confused Sophie. “Starfleet? Wha… wha’s Starfleet?” She couldn’t make her eyes focus and everything was too loud.
"The Acquisitioner will not be amused," said a disgruntled voice.
"Don't fall for her tricks!" said Jaglikar. "She is Starfleet. Scan her and see!"
“Who are you?” Sophie demanded. “Where is my mom? You’re all going to be in big trouble when she finds us!”
The gigantic Nausicaan snorted in contempt through his monstrous face. "Is this some kind of joke? My employer will not be amused."
"No!" insisted Jaglikar. "This is one of her tricks. Don't be fooled!"
Stepping forward, the Nausicaan grabbed Sophie by her hair and yarded her up to her feet. Even so, she was still half a meter shorter than the burly giant who easily rag-dolled her by the scalp. "Is that true, human?" His husky voice made his tone difficult to read. Perhaps he was annoyed. Perhaps he was sarcastic. "Are you playing a trick?"
A squeak of surprise and pain escaped Sophie’s lips. “I don’t know what you mean!” she squealed, trying to wriggle free. “Let go of me!”
"It's broken," said the Nausicaan as he dropped Sophie back inside the crate. "What is my employer supposed to do with this?"
"What do we care?" Jaglikar said. "Pay up so we can get out of here before Starfleet catches us!"
The Nausicaan bellowed a coarse, rumbling chuckle. "That won't be a problem. I could kill you all right now and walk out without any trouble." And by his disposition, that option had been put on the table.
“No!” said Sophie desperately. “No! Wait! I’m not broken! I can… do calculus and stuff! Don’t kill me!”
"Right! Not broken! She can salvaged!" Jaglikar had his hands up, not ready to lose the sales or his life. "Just a bump on the head. Made her a stupid tricky Starfleet! With some medicine she'll be good as new!"
"Then get her some," the Nausicaan seethed. "I am not taking possession of damaged merchandise."
Well, that created a conundrum. "Unglan," said Jaglikar. "Make her better!"
The named Pakled looked confused. "I'm a mechanic, not a doctor."
"Shut up and fix her!" Jaglikar ordered.
“I’m not a robot!” exclaimed Sophie, attempting to back away from the Pakleds. “A mechanic can’t help me!”
And that's when it went to hell.
"Get your damn dirty hands off of her!"
Ryland came running out from behind cover in a deadman's charge, his phaser lighting up every target he could see. The Nausicaan was a hard target to miss and took two blasts, one to the chest and another to the shoulder, before toppling. Before he could turn his phaser for any competent shots on the others, one of the Pakleds managed to clip Ryland in the hip which sent him face first onto the deck. Several followup shots passed through the air where his torso had been. "DAMMIT!" He rolled to the side out of the line of fire.
Not only did the Pakleds lay down suppressive fire to cover Jaglikar's retreat with Sophie sophie's crate on an anti-grav sled, but klaxons began sounding off to indicate a Security alert. The station's automated systems detected weapon's fire.
Even though Sophie wasn’t convinced it would do any good, she was sick enough of being shoved into small spaces to really care about any consequences, so she screamed as loud as she could and thrashed as hard as she could inside the trunk. If nobody cares to stop this baffoon, maybe her thrashing would throw the antigrav sled off balance. She doubted it, but she had to try.
Leah quickly dove for Ryland. "How bad?" She asked as she took cover next to him.
"It's the fuckin' tits," Ryland spat as he hauled himself up against the far wall. "Where's Sophie?"
Leah took out her non-descript tricorder and gave a quick scan. "That trunk, she must be conscious, it's thrashing. Can you shoot the grav support while I patch you up?" The norwegian didn't wait for confirmation, instead she hit him with coagulant and started patching up his wound as best she could while staying in cover herself.
"Don't worry about me!" Ryland shouted at Leah. "I'll patch myself. Go get Sophie!"
"Cal and Fin have got her. Now be still for a second and I'm done!" Leah replied as she pumped him with the cure as well as antibiotics and a dermal patch.
It took two shots from Fin's type 2 phaser to hit the crate. It would've been one if a Padlek's weapon didn't tear a clean half-circle in Fin's pony tail. Some of these assholes could actually aim. The second coherent beam connected with the crate. The sparks from the grav supports were quite spectacular, shorting out instantly and thudding the more-than-a-person's-weight box to the ground. Fin thought she could hear an undignified squeak coming from it, but she wasn't entirely sure about that.
"Hold it right there!" Three Starfleet Security teams, numbering a dozen total, flanked everyone from all sides. Phaser rifles with optical sights painted each person with a holographic dot. A stone-faced human woman with a shaved head and LCDR pips called out another order. "Drop your weapons and submit to processing!"
There was always another way around, and when you had the mental keys to the local population, finding an alternate route was easier than guessing. Cal could hear the noise of Ryland's heroic idiocy somewhere in the distance as he tracked the noisy minds of both Sophie and her captors. He winced when she started screaming, but hey, an extra audio distraction wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Certainly no one would hear him drop down into the corridor ahead of the Pakleds and their trophy. He grabbed the mind of the main man - Jaglikar - and twisted it into uncomfortable knots while latching onto anyone else guarding the sled with a blanket mental yell that wrapped about their cerebral cortex and pulled them into a shared nightmare, ghosting their worst fears all round them as if they were little kids trapped in that dark, forbidden cupboard.
Fortunately, the atypical Pakled cortex was amplified by fight-or-flight reflexes into heightened intellectual acumen. It was the basis for their reputation for appearing dumb and helpless until they had a superior adversary right what they wanted. Jaglikar let out a fiendish chuckle as his plan came into full bloom. He turned tail and ran back the way they'd come and left a jury-rigged flashbang between him and Cal.
"Help! Help! We're being attacked!" Jaglikar shouted as he ran back toward the maintenance depot with the Starfleet Security teams. "They killed my partner!" He pointed at the distant Nausicaan who laid where he fell after Ryland's suicide charge.
The shady LT from before spoke up to the Lieutenant Commander who had given the previous order. "The Pakleds already clear," he said. "Checked them on my last rounds."
Though she looked skeptical, the Security Chief didn't like the spread of targets being so broad. "Fine. Escort them to their ship but lock them down. No one leaves until I say so."
"Yes, ma'am," said the dirty LT. He gave a nod toward the Pakleds. "You heard the woman. Let's go."
Jaglikar shot the rescue team a smarmy, cocksure grin before he scurried away with the dirty LT and Sophie's crate in tow.
And that was the point where Sophie opted to shout as loud as she could- and it was pretty damned loud- “I WILL MURDER EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU AND THATS A PROMISE!” followed by a shriek that could wake the dead.
Jaglikar gave the crate a swift kick that made the anti-grav sled skid sideways. "We must hurry!" he said to the LT.
"No shit," the LT said as he picked up the pace back to the Pakled shuttle. "And I want fucking double."
"Get me out of here and I'll give you whatever you want!" Jaglikar said as he hopped onto the anti-grav sled and rounded the corner in a drifting slide.
“YOU’RE FIRST, YOU-“ and there followed a string on obscenities that would make a sailor blush, during which Sophie thrashed and kicked and punched any surface she could reach.
As the Security teams relieved the rescue team from their weapons, the bald woman spoke in an imperative tone. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Olanksy, Chief of Outpost Security. You are formally detained pending our investigation into suspected homicide, attempted homicide, armed robbery, and any and all related charges which arise from said investigation. We are collecting biometric data from your persons to confirm your identities in our investigation and do not require consent; this notice is a courtesy. You have the right to a legal advocate if you are not currently represented by one. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to send a subspace transmission once you have been processed. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?"
"Oh, we do." Fin said, not impressed by the way she was spoken to. "Your scans won't return any identification. Only an order for immediate cooperation from the highest levels." An unusual note sounded as the first of the biometric scans returned the requested data. "We're Starfleet, on a recovery operation so far out of your jurisdiction that you'd need a telescope to even realise it exists." An impatient note had entered Fin's voice as the scans of her own biometrics showed the same order for immediate cooperation. "No, you can't ask any further questions. No you don't have any authority over us. Either do what we need you to do, or ruin the career of everyone you have working for you and watch yourself disappear into the darkest hole I can find."
Several of the junior officers flinched, but Olanksy was unimpressed. "Uh-huh. And I'm the Grand Nagus. Save it for the arbiter."
"Chief?" The chief's terse dismissal of Fin's threat did not carry through the rest of the unit though. Not all of them were resigned to career hell like the LCDR apparently was. Another LT, a lanky Andorian, was reviewing the scans on a PADD. "Should we check with somebody first?"
"One more word out of you, sh'Vrat, and you'll have guard duty with the geriatric nudist cult in Section 9-B." Olansky stared down her LT. "Am I clear?"
"Right, you're the thick-headed kind." Fin sighed with frustration. "Lieutenant sh'Vrat, you've just been issued new orders." Fin had turned her eyes on the nervous Andorian. Her voice took on particular note of authority, the one some leaders find that cuts through any mental haze or confusion. That note that cuts to the bone of the service member. "You are no longer under Commander Olanksy's command, but under mine. I am ordering you to relieve the commander of her weapon and combadge. Then lock down the facilities so that that Padleks can't leave. Do it now."
The PADDs began chirping with the reshuffling of authorizations and jurisdictions. "Who is... Lieutenant Commander Finley Chu?" asked sh'Vrat with a furrowed brow and twiddling antennae.
Leah stood up from where she had patched Ryland up. She fought a grin off of her face at Fin's action. "That's my girl." A twang of pride surged through the norwegian.
"You should hurry, Lieutenant sh'Vrat if you wish to salvage what is left of your career." She offered up a second distraction. "Or should we add obstruction of justice to your docket along with all the other charges piling up against you so far?" To the Commander she said, "stand down, Olansksy. Last warning." Leah added ice to her tone.
Olansky glared at Fin and Leah as well as the junior grade LT whose knees were practically knocking with fear. "Fuck it. Lock us down."
"Yes, ma'am..." The Andorian sh'Vrat heaved a sigh of relief and began the process.
Sticking a finger in Fin's face, Olansky said, "I am going to release a Security probe so far up your ass that if you so much as used a hypospray in a manner other than directed, I'll know about it, and I'll have you put away." Her brow twitched beneath her shaved head. "Believe that."
Fin just shook her head. "I'm half tempted to authorise you to see the actual files."
"You should, Commander. Wouldn't expect anything less from a proper officer." Leah said as she turned to look over at Ryland and noticed both Cal and Ryland gone.
"Um... Commander?" The tone of voice for sh'Vrat sounded fretful. "It looks like a ship managed to launch before the lockdown went into effect. Some kind of bogus registry that couldn't possibly be real."
"Still couldn't have disengaged without authorization from someone," Olanksy barked at the timid Andorian. "Who in the hell authorized the departure?"
"Lieutenant Poe," said sh'Vrat.
"Fucking Pakleds..." Olanksy spat. "Someone find Poe and get his stupid ass in front of me. Don't make me order twice, people!"
Leah looked over at Fin, "hopefully at least one of them managed to get in pursuit before lockdown.
"With how Dedeker is feeling, I expect he's currently chewing through the locks on that crate." Fin said. Then she turned her attention back to Olasky, "Get us to your command center. We have some coordination to do to unfuck what you fucked."
=^="Team Charlie to Olanksy."=^=
Olansky tapped her combadge. "Go ahead."
=^="We found Lieutenant Poe by the lower dock. He had a partially collapsed windpipe. Chief Xyan just trached him like a pro."=^=
"Copy that. Get him to the infirmary. Olanksy out." After cutting the channel short, she looked at the others. "Well, he won't be talking anytime soon. The command center is this way."
Leah nodded and followed after Olanksy.
Once back aboard the barely spaceworthy shuttle, Jaglikar ripped the top off the crate and pointed his weapon at Sophie. "We're down some crewmembers thanks to your friends, so you're going to make up the difference. Now climb out of there and get ready to reboot the primary power system."
"Boss!" called out the pilot. "There is a ship disengaging from the outpost. Do you want I should blow the charge?"
Jaglikar puffed his cheeks out in frustration. "Do it! We might not get another chance!"
In the vacuum of space, the Pakled's shuttle emitted a burst of energy whose shockwave passed over every ship in the immediate vicinity. Even the outpost itself was struck, but its shielding held up. All other vessels, though, were not so lucky. Even the Phantom went momentarily dark before its automated systems began rebooting.
"Success!" shouted the Pakled pilot. "That won't stop them for long though."
"No, but we don't need long to reach the edge of the system," Jaglikar said. "The real buyer will meet us there."
It hadn’t taken the Pakleds long to put Sophie back to work. Either they hadn’t believed her ruse or they forgot that someone with no memory couldn’t exactly make repairs, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t getting out of this alive, it seemed. So she decided to take the Pakleds out with her. She began fiddling with the power systems, pretending to be fixing things, but really creating a feedback loop that would cause the systems to overload and the shuttle to eventually explode. “Sorry, Dedeker,” she muttered to herself. “I tried.” There was a pang in her heart that she quickly brushed away. There was no time for that.
"Boss! Sensors show something on approach!"
Jaglikar marched up to the bridge and left the only remaining member of his crew to watch Sophie.
"What is it?" Jaglikar asked. "Nothing should be back up and running so quickly! We're still only adrift ourselves until the wannabe Vulcan gets us back to full power!"
"I dunno what it is," the pilot said.
"On screen!"
Zooming in as close as possible, the viewscreen showed a workbee hurtling toward them at top speed. That wasn't very fast, but with the shuttle coasting along on raw momentum alone it would still overtake them eventually.
"Uh... boss... we're being hailed."
"Open the channel," the Pakled said.
Ryland's face filled the screen as the Pakleds had not adjusted the maximum magnification. "Hey, fuckheads! I'm going to make this real simple for you. Turn over the girl or I will ram this workbee into your shuttle so hard they won't be able to identify the wreckage."
"Try it, Starfleet!" Jaglikar shouted. He suspected Ryland was bluffing. Starfleet wouldn't do that.
"I'm already doing it, numb-nuts!" Ryland retorted. "Give me Sophie or I will see you in hell!"
At that moment, an alarm sounded and Sophie knew she’d done it. Without waiting for any response or for the Pakleds to react, she left into the airlock. “Catch me!” she called over her shoulder as she hit the control for the inner doors to close. She then peered out the back to see the work bee coming closer. She’d have to wait a moment longer. Quickly, she disabled the doors so the Pakleds couldn’t reopen them. “Come on,” she muttered. “Just a little closer.” She then began preparing by taking several gulps of air in rapid succession, then a quick in-out-in-out followed by several more gulps. Preparing to dive, she thought.
"What did she do?" Jaglikar shouted.
The Pakled who was supposed to be guarding her while making other repairs just shrugged.
"The power systems are overloading!" reported the pilot from the cockpit. "She borked us!"
That would have to be close enough. She took one last gulp of air- as much as her lungs could hold- and hit the control for the outer doors.
"Damn Vulcans!" Jaglikar shouted as Sophie jumped out into the cold night of space.
Ryland was on approach with the workbee accelerating as fast as its mini thrusters could go. If the venting atmosphere from the shuttle's airlock was hard to see, Sophie's body silhouetted against the sun's reflection off the shuttle was hard to miss.
"Sophie!"
Hitting the inertial dampeners--the closest thing to brakes in a spacecraft--Ryland pitched the workbee sideways into a drifting arc. He double-checked the trajectory twice before he pivoted around to the rear of the workbee. There wasn't much room inside, maybe enough for a crew of four at most. That would be enough. He grabbed the emergency EV helmets from the rear compartment, activated one that inflated around his head, and then hit the release on the rear hatch. Warning alarms sounded off.
"Warning: decompression imminent. Atmosphere is at 80% and lowering."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ryland said as he tied a tether around himself.
"Warning: decompression imminent. Atmosphere is at 40% and lowering."
"Shut up!" Ryland yelled at the computer. He could see Sophie clearly now. Just a few more meters...
"Warning: decompression is complete. Atmosphere is at zero percent."
Ryland dove toward Sophie with all the might he could muster. The tether about him wasn't restrictive at all. He sailed through empty space with naught but a flimsy transparent helmet around his head. In a few seconds, he collided with Sophie and managed to slip the sleeve of the EV helmet over her head before he pressed the inflation mechanism. It popped into a flimsy transparent helmet identical to his own. "Gotcha!" he shouted.
Sophie’s lungs had been burning even though it had only been a few seconds and once the EV helmet sealed and and inflated with air, she gasped for breath. She still felt as if he body was being pulled apart in every direction, but even that sensation was subsiding. Perhaps a good deal of it had been psychosomatic.
The recoil mechanism was a little on the slow side since it was pulling the both of them back into the workbee. With the continuing arc of the little spacecraft, they were being dragged along before the tether finally pulled them inside. Ryland pounded the hatch control to the closed position.
"Repressurization commencing. Atmosphere is at 10% and rising."
"Don't take it off yet," Ryland said.
“I know that,” answered Sophie, her usual snappish tone quite a lot softer than usual. Also, that shuttle is about to-“
The rocking of the workbee told her that the shuttle had done just as she had wanted it to do. “We’d better get out of here,” she warned.
"Yeah, nice to see you too..." Ryland scoffed and shook his head. What did he expect? He'd only saved her frigid ass from the bitter cold of outer fucking space. "Let me ping the Phantom and see if we can get a direct pickup. Probably best if I not step foot back on the outpost for awhile..."
Sophie frowned, but nodded. She’d have to get her revenge on that crooked Lieutenant another time. “Thanks, by the way,” she said awkwardly. She didn’t know why; she’d thanked people enough times in her life, so she didn’t see how this could be all that different. “We… we should probably get checked out by medical, just in case. I don’t think we were out there longer than a minute, but even so.”
"Yep..." Ryland gave her a nod in return. "You're welcome." Maybe she had a point. Maybe once they got thawed out and checked over by a doctor, things might be different. "Looks like the Phantom's got us." Giving her a look, Ryland said, "Sophie, I—"
They were beamed out before he could finish.
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