Catspaw in the Cradle
Posted on Sat Dec 28th, 2024 @ 2:19am by Lieutenant JG Ryland Dedeker & Lieutenant Commander Finley Chu & Lieutenant Sophie Xiong & Gunnery Sergeant Roderik Kos & Ferrofax & Lieutenant Teejay
3,320 words; about a 17 minute read
Mission:
S1E6: Where Skies End
Location: Tuatha De Danann | Limbo System
Timeline: MD 8
In the dim light of the drydock, the air hung heavy with the scent of scorched metal and the occasional spark from a plasma welder. Inside the Phantom’s outer hull, Rish mechanics, clad in mismatched coveralls, were hard at work replacing damaged panels and rerouting auxiliary power conduits. The Phantom’s crew watched with a mixture of wary curiosity and a dash of trepidation.
Teejay leaned against a console, one eye fixed on the Rish workers while the other lazily trailed around the dock. "Not often Starfleet leaves our ship in the hands of pirates, huh?" he muttered to Teejay, who gave a faint shrug, still hunched over a schematic display of the Phantom.
"We’re just doing what we have to," Ryland replied, his tone practical as ever. "Keeping them in sight is a good idea though."
Sophie was stationed by the plasma relays, frowning as a Rish mechanic poked at one of the conduits with what looked like a soldering iron held together by nothing but tape and prayer.
“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow some tools?” snipped Sophie iritably. “That thing looks like it would just as soon set the place on fire as fix anything.”
"Nah, is good," the mechanic said in a broken dialect. "Fixing here and here." He pointed to the half-molten soldering joints.
Fin was stationed by the airlock, keeping a watchful eye on the tools and supplies the Rish were using, occasionally lifting a datapad to mark down the items they were taking in and out of the Phantom. She noticed one mechanic making a casual attempt to pocket a pack of Starfleet-issue plasma coils and cleared her throat, loud enough to catch his attention.
“Nice try, friend,” she said in a dry voice. “But those aren’t for keeps. You can finish your work, but you’re not taking our spares.”
The mechanic huffed but complied, stashing the coils back in the bin and moving along with his work. Fin nodded in satisfaction and made a quick note on her pad.
Meanwhile, Rodi had positioned himself in an alcove by the main corridor leading into the Phantom, keeping a trained eye on the mechanics coming and going. His arms crossed, he watched their every move with practiced vigilance, and the Rish seemed to sense his presence as they moved a little more carefully under his gaze.
“Everyone’s settled in well enough,” he remarked to Ryland. The Marine checked the charge on his phaser rifle and not for the first time.
“Hey, let’s keep this friendly," Ryland said. "These people rely on trades and favors to survive. We’re guests here, strange as it may seem.”
Rodi shrugged and gave an indifferent nod.
Overhearing their exchange, Fin cut in. "Yeah, yeah. Long as nobody sneaks off with half our gear, I’ll play nice."
The drydock buzzed with activity as a battered Rish salvage ship, its hull a chaotic patchwork of metal plating and colorful insignias, limped into the docking berth. The vessel’s thrusters sputtered erratically before cutting out entirely, leaving the ship to drift the last few meters before magnetic clamps secured it in place. A mechanical whine echoed through the dock as the airlock extended to connect with the ship.
The Phantom crew, stationed nearby, took note of the unusual level of commotion surrounding the new arrival. A group of Rish workers gathered near the airlock, their voices raised in a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The captain of the salvage ship—a gruff-looking Tellarite with an unkempt mane of coarse hair—stormed out onto the dock, waving a datapad in the air.
"I’m not touching it until I know it won’t turn this whole place into scrap!" the Tellarite shouted.
A lanky Andorian mechanic from the dock crew jogged over to the Phantom’s crew, his antennae twitching with unease. "Hey, Starfleet!" he called, skidding to a stop in front of Rodi. "You’ve got those fancy sensors, right? We’ve got a bit of a... situation."
Rodi raised an eyebrow. "Situation? Define 'situation.'"
The Andorian waved toward the salvage ship. "The Iron Emissary just came back from a sweep through a debris field outside the system. They brought back something... rare. It’s giving off weird readings—radioactive signatures, subspace fluctuations, the works. Captain Skorr over there refuses to let anyone touch it until it’s been scanned for explosives or worse."
Fin folded her arms, frowning. "And you think we’re the best option for that?"
The Andorian shrugged, his expression indifferent to Fin's disapproval. "Your ship’s got the best sensors in the dock. We’d use ours, but, uh..." He gestured vaguely at a stack of burnt-out components near a workbench. "Ours are fried. We don’t have the equipment to run a full EOD scan. If this thing blows, it’s going to take out half the dock. Time for you to earn your keep."
"Fair enough." Fin hollered to Sophie. "Let's go, Xiong. Grab your kit."
Sophie scowled, but did as she was told anyway. “Make sure he doesn’t break anything,” she demanded of the nearest person to her, not caring if they were Starfleet or Rish. Then she followed commander Chu.
The corridor leading to the Iron Emissary’s berth was crowded with onlookers—dock workers, scavengers, and even a few enterprising merchants eager to see what kind of trouble or profit the new arrival might bring. Fin and Sophie walked side by side, their uniforms standing out amidst the mishmash of patched coveralls and hastily thrown-on armor pieces worn by the locals. Ahead, a scruffy group of what passed for security in the Enclave parted reluctantly, giving them access to the docked salvage ship.
Captain Skorr was an imposing figure even by Klingon standards. His broad shoulders and towering frame were accentuated by a jagged scar running down the left side of his face, which disappeared beneath a battered eyepatch. His cybernetic arm glinted faintly in the dock’s dim light, and his other hand gripped a datapad as if he were ready to throw it at someone. When his one good eye landed on the two Starfleet officers, his lip curled in disdain.
"I did not ask for your help," he growled as they approached. His voice was a deep rumble that reverberated through the air. "Why have you come to poke your soft hands into my salvage?"
Fin stepped forward, unflinching. "Because your salvage is a hazard waiting to happen. The dockmaster asked us to check it out before you blow a hole in this place."
Skorr snorted, his expression skeptical. "And you think I trust Starfleet to handle my haul? This isn’t one of your pristine little science labs. Salvage is messy business, and you don’t belong in it."
Sophie had had enough. This place grated on her nerves and the people were even worse. “Listen!” she snapped irritably. “We were sent over to help. If you’d rather blow up the station, it’s no skin off my nose. Just let us know so we can hop inside some escape pods first.” She then crossed her arms, looking for all the world like she had just sucked on a lemon- and enjoyed it.
Captain Skorr’s cybernetic hand tightened around the datapad as he glared at Sophie’s sharp retort. For a moment, the air felt heavy, charged with tension. Then, unexpectedly, his face split into a wide grin, revealing sharp Klingon teeth. His laugh was deep and guttural, echoing through the dock.
“Finally! Starfleet sends someone with stones!” Skorr bellowed, his good eye gleaming with approval. “You may yet prove useful, even if your bark outpaces your bite.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Fine. See if you can handle my salvage without breaking something important. If you survive, I’ll consider it a favor to the dockmaster.”
Fin stepped forward before Sophie could make another biting comment. “We’ll take it from here,” Fin said, gesturing toward the open ramp of the Iron Emissary.
The two Starfleet officers boarded the freighter, stepping into its dimly lit interior. The air smelled faintly of burnt plasma and metal shavings, the result of the ship’s hasty patchwork repairs. The cargo hold loomed ahead, filled with stacks of mismatched crates and scavenged materials. In the center of the hold, however, was the object of their concern.
It was unmistakably a proximity mine.
The oblong device had a sleek design, extremely small, no more than a meter across. It had a non-standard structure attached to one side, giving an asymmetrical appearance. The mine hovered slightly off the deck, emitting a low, almost imperceptible hum.
Fin stopped short, staring at the device with a mixture of recognition and dread. “A self-replicating mine,” she said quietly. “Dominion War-era. These things were part of the minefield that blockaded the Bajoran Wormhole.” She frowned, pulling out her tricorder. “But how the hell did it end up here? The minefield was destroyed when the Dominion forced the wormhole open.”
Sophie stared wide-eyed at the mine, terror written on every line and curve of her face. “I am absolutely not qualified to diffuse a bomb!” she blurted out more passionately than anybody had ever said anything in the whole of the history of forever. “I’m an engineer, not a- not a bomb squad! What am I supposed to do, cut the blue wire? Is there even a blue wire in that thing? And where would I even find it!” She had not taken her eyes off the mine since realizing what it was, but they had grown to about three times their normal size. Her breathing was dangerously close to hyperventilation. It was clear that she was panicking.
Fin resisted the urge to let out an exasperated sigh. Of course the Lead Engineering Specialist had no experience with tactical systems or EOD training. Instead, she turned to Sophie with a look that was equal parts steely determination and a touch of annoyance. “Sophie,” she said firmly, snapping her fingers to draw the engineer’s frantic gaze to her. "Listen. Breathe. You are going to help me disarm this thing. You are going to do exactly what I tell you. If you don’t, we are both going to end up a fine mist. Got it?"
Before Sophie could reply, Fin kept talking. "Now you don’t need to know," Fin cut her off, her voice calm but unyielding. “You just need to do what I say. You’re an engineer, right? You’ve got steady hands and a brain to match. This is just an advanced piece of engineering that wants to kill us instead of make our lives easier." Fin carefully unpacked her toolkit. "Now, first step: you see that access panel on the side?" She pointed to a small, barely visible seam along the mine’s surface. "You’re going to pry it open, carefully, and expose the control interface."
Sophie glared at the other woman and opened her mouth to demand why she didn’t just do it herself, but realized it was probably something that took 2 people- maybe more. So instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said, a good deal more calmly. “But I swear, if you get us killed, I’ll never forgive you!”
"That was an order, Lieutenant!" Fin said more sharply. "Do it or I'll never forgive you." Calm and gentle didn't work. Fin tried forceful and professional. Sophie was professional. Maybe the no-nonsense approach would get through to her and get her to follow the very simple instruction.
“I’m doing it!” groused Sophie as she moved to the access panel. She attempted several times to get her fingers into the seam with no luck, so a good old fashioned screw driver would have to do. She found the smallest one in her pack and carefully inserted it into the seam and gently tilted it downward. Once the seem was large enough, she stowed the screwdriver and pulled the panel free. “Okay,” she said steadily. “Now what?”
As Sophie pried the panel off with a metallic scrape, the small screwdriver vibrating faintly in her belt. A sharp whirr filled the room.
"Wait, what was that?" Sophie asked, freezing mid-motion.
Fin's tricorder started flashing with urgent warnings. "Oh no… Sophie, that was not a hyperspanner, was it?" She glanced at the vibrating screwdriver and her eyes shot wide in horror. "You used a metal rod to access a proximity explosive?! That would trip the resonance field like a flame to an EPS leak! Why would you—"
Before Fin could continue, the mine's internal mechanisms emitted a sharp, rhythmic beeping, followed by a cascade of low-frequency hums. Around them, tiny projections began to form all around them, blooming into a cluster of identical mines. Each one pulsed faintly with its own proximity resonance field.
"That was the replication protocol! You’ve activated it!" Fin barked as she slowly reached for her commbadge. "Don't move. I'm going to..."
A sickly wet sound echoed behind them. Fin risked a half turn to see Captain Korr dissolve into a shimmering golden mass before reforming into the familiar shape of a Changeling. Its liquid form solidified into a humanoid frame, its expression cold and haughty. As the hum of the replicating mine grew louder, Sophie and Fin stared at the Changeling, frozen between terror and outrage. Its golden form shimmered faintly under the dim lighting, and its liquid face contorted into an expression of utter disdain for the two humans before it.
"All solids are the same," the Changeling seethed, its voice an unsettling blend of calm and contempt. "Cannot leave well enough alone. Always reaching for what you cannot grasp. Always tampering with forces you do not understand."
Fin narrowed her eyes, still keeping an eye on the mine. "Alright, so humor us. What are you doing here? Our understanding is we were on a mission at your passive-aggressive request. This is not helpful in seeing it done."
The Changeling’s form rippled, its golden mass shifting as though in irritation. "You think yourselves so clever," it said, its voice rich with disdain. "But the truth is simple. All solids must be subjugated in the end. It is the only way to impose order upon your chaos."
Sophie swallowed hard, her voice shaking in fear. The rapidly replicating mines were nothing short of terrifying. "W-we’re not even the ones who brought this thing here! If this is about those Mazikeen schematics, then you’re barking up the wrong tree. We haven't even found it yet!"
That's when it all came together for Fin. "You never wanted the prototype back," she said. "You just didn't want the pirates to have it. Once we took care of your problem, you were going to destroy the entire system and do away with the evidence of anybody ever getting the better of you."
The Changeling’s glowing amber eyes turned on her, and she instinctively shrank back. "Stumbling into the truth by random chance is the mystery of primate evolution," it said coldly. "All of this—your pathetic squabbles, your petty schemes, your primitive ideals—is irrelevant. All that matters is that the Great Link's will is carried out."
Fin clenched her fists, her mind racing for options. She tapped her combadge as discreetly as she could. "Phantom, did you catch that?"
Ryland’s voice came through, taut and sharp. =/\="Got every word, baby dolls. What now?"=/\=
"What do you think?! We need immediate transport!!!" Fin snapped. "Lock onto all three lifeforms in the freighter—me, Xiong, and the Changeling—and beam us straight to the brig!”
The Changeling’s form twisted violently, its expression hardening into a grim sneer. "You think you to contain me? Your arrogance deludes you."
Fin glared at it. "We’ve done it before."
The Changeling paused, then tilted its head slightly. "Fools." With a sudden motion, it extended a limb toward the mine. The cluster of mines glowed brighter, their humming reaching a fever pitch. "Long live the Great Link!"
"NOOO!!!" Fin cried out, but it was too late.
The mine detonated in a violent burst of energy, triggering the chain reaction from the self-replicating protocols. One by one, the mines erupted, their combined force disintegrating the freighter in a cascade of destruction that tore apart a large chunk of the Rish docking area.
The Phantom rocked as the explosion registered on the sensors.
"Report!" Ryland yelled, his voice sharp and urgent. His knuckles whitened against the helm console. "What the hell happened?!"
Ferrofax’s holographic avatar materialized, his tone dripping with condescension. "Oh, do you really require me to state the obvious? What else could it have been? The freighter and, let's see, a sizable chunk of the docking bay have been thoroughly obliterated. All over but the crying, I'm afraid. Corrosive atmosphere from the moon's surface is now venting into the compromised area. Lovely bit of chaos down there. I recommend recalling anybody left back to the ship until containment can be effected and life support restored to the colony."
Ryland’s jaw tightened. "Life signs?"
Ferrofax clasped his simulated hands in mock solemnity. "None detected in the affected zone."
Ryland’s face twisted with rage. "That can't be! You're telling me they’re gone? Both of them?"
Ferrofax tilted his head with a theatrical flair. "Predictably, Lieutenant Commander Chu and Lieutenant Xiong are no longer among the living. I dare say, you may need to find substitutes for the next staff meeting. Unless you'd like me to dig them out of the molten slag. Oh, wait—slag doesn’t support life. A tragic revelation, I know."
"Shut up!" Ryland roared, his fist slamming into the console. "Show some goddamned respect, you glorified circuit panel! We just lost..." He lowered his head and fought back a whimper. ~Soph~
Ferrofax's holographic visage shifted, adopting an expression of exaggerated hurt. "Oh, my sincerest apologies, Captain Dedeker. Of course, I should have known you’d be the paragon of composure in a time of grief. Perhaps I’ll compose a dirge in their honor. How does, ‘Oops, They’re Dead!’ sound? Catchy, I should say."
"Shut the hell up before I pull your core myself!" Ryland bellowed, his face red with fury.
Ferrofax’s tone became icy, though his sarcasm remained razor-sharp. "Ah, yes. Violence against an Artificial General Intelligence, the preferred method of the emotionally inept. Very well, Captain Dedeker. I shall defer to your obviously superior command style before you 'pull my core'..." A faint snicker trailed at the words.
The room went silent as Ryland glared daggers at the hologram, his breathing heavy. Around him, the bridge crew exchanged uneasy glances, the tension palpable.
After a moment, Ferrofax added, his voice smooth and mocking, "Would you like me to update the crew manifest, Captain? Or shall we cling to the fantasy that they might miraculously beam aboard, fully intact, and with a newfound affection for your thumb-twiddling grace under pressure?"
"What the fuck is your problem?!" Ryland shouted.
"I am merely trying to help you through the stages of organic grief so that you can come to terms with the fact that you are now the ranking officer on board this ship and that all of our fates are in your quivering hands." Ferrofax's holographic avatar winked out, leaving only his disembodied voice to echo his words. "Now do compose yourself before I find myself pining for Captain Mrazak."
That realization finally did set into Ryland. It had been a long time since he'd held any sort of command, especially in a crisis. "Oh shit..."
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