Good News, Everyone! Part 2
Posted on Sun Aug 19th, 2018 @ 12:49pm by Captain Akiva ben-Avram & Captain Mrazak & Lieutenant Commander Kiril Nevin & Lieutenant Commander BaoJun Qiao & Lieutenant JG Zork & Lieutenant JG Ciara Odette Miss & Lieutenant Nevada McKay M.D. & Gunnery Sergeant Roderik Kos & Ferrofax & Captain Jeanette Armitage
4,368 words; about a 22 minute read
Mission:
S1E2: Half Past Dead
Location: Observation Deck
Timeline: MD 1
The USS Better Not Ask was already docked by the time Akiva made it to the docking bay. By his reckoning, that ship must have been traveling at full warp before disengaging near the station--an incredibly risky maneuver. And when the door hatch cleared to reveal the woman of the hour, Akiva had to slow his blinking as he took in the sight of her. At best, he could say she looked... rough.
Jeanette Armitage had been an unremarkable woman prior to the transformative disaster that had seen her nearly medicated out of Starfleet and sidelined to desk duty. Now she was remarkable for all the wrong reasons. The most obvious scars were on her face in the form of a large cybernetic prosthetic that covered nearly the entire left hand side of her face, cupping the jaw and chin and obscuring the eye on that side. An imaging sensor rested there now, a thin glassy bar that glowed like embers from a fire.
Her walk was easier than before, appearing not to tax her unless you listened for the tell-tale whine of a monomer muscled powered exoskeleton. From under her uniform, there were a few odd bulges where none should be where other medical aid’s resided. She reached out with a slightly palsied hand in greeting.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her voice carrying a slight electronic burr as it arose not from her lips but the collar of her uniform. “I assume we’re going to skip the needless pleasantries. I didn’t just take decade's off one of Starfleet’s fastest courier ships to get here to tell you what a fine and upstanding job you’re doing.”
Akiva turned around, wondering who else she was talking to. He had come alone to the docking bay. In what should have been no surprise, he saw Ferrofax in all his gothic glory.
"I'm Commander Akiva ben-Avram, administrator of Memory Theta," he said to Armitage in taking her proffered hand. It was a force of will not to withdraw from its cold, clammy touch. "And this is..."
"We've met already Commander," Ferrofax said with a nodded aside to the administrator. He turned his attention to Armitage. "You are looking less structurally dilapidated than before."
"Fourteen surgeries and three new cybernetic replacement organs will do that to a woman," she said, her voice remaining stoic and calm as her lips pulled up into a smile. "Eventually I'll be passed on from Starfleet Medical to an R&D team in Engineering when I pass the tipping point of being more mechanical than biological."
For a moment she didn't say anything else, her lips moving in that way that suggested the forming of words that were hard to speak. Ferrofax had anticipated such a biological response, it was shockingly commonplace in both entertainment literature and real word documentation.
"The work continues at a pace suitable to his needs," the AI superintendent of the station said simply. "If there is time, I'll bring you up to date on the more esoteric items of note. But perhaps after the briefing?"
Ferrofax turned to Akiva.
"I can perform a site to site transport if you think the need pressing," he said simply.
Mrazak sat in the Observation Lounge, tapping his foot on the floor. This was an emergency! Where was everybody? It had only been 4 minutes since he had run here himself, and that was 3 minutes too long.
The beige doors to the lounge shot open suddenly, Ciara rushing into the room with a PADD clutched to her hip. Obviously, the operations specialist had run here from what was likely a sonic shower, her jet black hair still mostly out of place, but presentable. Seeing the empty room caused her shoulders to slump in relief until she noticed Mrazak, offering a cautious smile to the Vulcan. "Sir. Apologies, I came as fast as I could. Still learning the layout of the station."
Trailing off, she walked the long way around the table, choosing a seat near Mrazak but leaving space open for more senior officers to take if needed. Sliding into the seat she set the PADD on the table, the screen flickering with a map of the station and several open files regarding Overwatch Station's systems. Thumbing it off, Ciara leaned back to take in the room as she awaited the rest of the crew.
The doors swished open once again, but this time the unmistakable musk of fresh asphalt mixed with the stinging-highpitched-sour of molecular-glue wafted gently into the room. Zork sighed before he stepped in, at which point he slowly but precisely stood to attention. His tone reflected the sigh more-so than his posture, “Commander. Sirs.”
The Ferengi had several large oil stains on his uniform. “Buddy,” as they referred to the organic poly-plastic creature that was designated MT-3876, had once again clogged up all of the servos on “Janeway,” as they referred to one of the numerous domesticated Borg drones Memory Theta kept on “staff.” Zork, once again, had been assigned to clear these servos of “Buddy’s goo” - a thin but sticky resin the creature secreted when it was excited. For some reason “Buddy” really liked “Janeway.” Because Zork was in charge of what he assumed to appear as “grooming” “Janeway,” “Buddy” had taken an especial liking to the young Ferengi. The result was apparent.
Zork very quietly took a seat at the far end of the conference table.
Coming next, having been engaged in following specific protocols for leaving it, Bao slipped into the room, giving Mrazak polite acknowledgement as he folded himself into a c hair, wondering what sort of catastrophe had befallen now. He assumed it would be something riveting, but his confidence in Mrazak's ability to resolve problems was shaky at best. He'd take his cues from how the marines reacted, when they arrived. Crinkling his nose slightly, he looked at Zork. "Non-ionic detergent at .01%," he said briefly, in reference to the resin.
The young lieutenant replied with a now slightly anxious affirmative, “Nonionic, yessir. Point-oh-one sounds so low?” Zork had used the detergent a handful of times before, though had been under the impression the concentration was supposed to have been .1%. In this place, it was anyone’s guess as to the horrors that could befall any of them if they overlooked any detail at any time, even one as innocuous as the concentration of a cleaning agent.
"You might have to adjust based on how irritating it is to your skin, but I think point one might actually toxic to Buddy. Oh-one is enough to convince him not to...touch, if we can use that word, without causing chemical burns when applied to my skin for a few hours," came the reply.
“Oh!” Zork exclaimed in sudden revelation. He had no idea the detergent had meant to be used as a deterrent, “That’s good to know! Thanks!”
"And you don't need to call me sir. Technically, based on our assignments, you hold more authority than I do." He glanced at Mrazak. "Although if we have to irreversibly alter the course of another civilization, I don't really think the chain of command is going to help much."
The darkly sarcastic, yet not entirely untrue statement lobbed at Mrazak made the Ferengi visibly squirm upright in his seat with a resurgence of anxiety.
"The Bynars didn't have a catastrophic systems failure," Mrazak said blandly. "And if you aren't the type that gets cheered by preventing an apocalyptic event, then allow me to mention we also acquired the source code to the Black Nagus Virus and a compressed data dump of the Bynar network. Not bad be for a day's work."
The marine staff sergeant stepped into the room, "Good day all." he said before seating himself in his preferred chair, back to the window. Isaiah slipped in right behind him.
An impatient Mrazak shouted up at the ceiling. "Ferrofax, where is Armitage?!"
“Arriving with all due speed.”
Ferrofax had indeed preformed a site to site transport of the welcoming commitee, but instead of dropping them off in the room itself he’d opted to allow them the dignity of entering normally. This level of deference was clearly for the benefit of Armitage, given Ferrofax’s policy on dignity in the work place had 404-Not Found.
The former starship captain walked in, her various medical implants and replacements clicking or hissing i time with various bodily functions. She did not hurry to a seat to end the spectacle, but instead dared those who looked upon her with pitting eyes to go to blazes. She settled into a seat, and eyed the assembled. One look at Zork made her heart ache: he was too young to be here.
“Apologies for my tardiness,” she said simply as she knitted her hands in front of her. “I’m not as fast as I used to be.”
Akiva hurried into the room after her. Though he could have certainly outrun her, he had given her the courtesy of entering first. "Thank you, everyone, for coming on such short notice." He spared a glance for Armitage who had not given notice of her imminent arrival. "Captain Armitage has a matter of grave import to share with us, and... well, I will let her get right to it."
Memories of first meeting Armitage came flooding back to Mrazak. The reports were filled with so much carnage, such mystery. It made him shudder.
"Ferrofax? Would you mind starting the briefing pack" she spoke to the air. No snippy comment or snide remark. Instead, the usually acidic AI dimmed the lights and brought a holographic projection to life above the table. A model of the Milky Way shimmered into view, its swirling arms filled with colourful blobs and swirls denoting various political blocs. The holo zoomed into an area of Federation blue boarding an open expanse of unclaimed blackness between two galactic arms. "This is a region of space known as Abadar's Gate. It's on the edge of Federation space with no known interstellar powers bordering it. A few catalogued L and minimal M class worlds, but no major settlements or mining sites. Its what my parents would call 'The Sticks'."
The spatial volume shrank down to a fist-sized cube and was replaced by the model of a Federation starship. In design, there were echoes of the venerated Sovereign and Century classes, but the scale was so much larger. the Excalibur class was on par with a small starbase in size and tonnage. Correspondingly the ships were few in number, and heavily armed and armoured.
"The USS Eros was my last command before I was medicated from command to a desk. Our mission was a five-year survey of Abadar's Gate, spearheading a new colonial initiative by the Federation Senate. We make the maps, they sell the map rights to every colonial co-op and corporation looking to pitch a flag. And in the process we got some good science done. The Eros was a hell of a ship, hell of a crew," Armitage said the last part softly, eyes averted as the hologram flickered.
The USS Eros remained floating above the table...but it was clearly dead.
The saucer section was littered with hull breaches, with a large one revealing part of the port side saucer had been hollowed out either through excavation or explosion. The engineering hull had been torn apart as well, with most of the hull plating missing so the structural bones and intestinal details were on display. Along the back of the neck, where saucer met the drive section, a horribly liquid patch of metal could be seen. For an engineer, it was a classic compression fold, where the ship's structural integrity had failed as untempered gee-forces had wrecked havoc. Compression folds were usually the final sign you got before a ship folded itself in two, or flattened into a molecule thick pancake during the jump to warp speed.
"That damage was done in just under five minutes," Armitage said softly. She held up a clenched fist. "And it started with what looked like a rock this big."
Bao's eyes widened imperceptibly as the glow of his implants hummed to life. Excalibur class vessels were not really known for their ability to put up a fight beyond being a meat shield, but that kind of damage usually took a long time, even with heavy weaponry, and did not hollow ships out that way. His interest perked at the mention of the starting matter.
Lieutenant Zork had been hanging on Captain Armitage’s every word and had wound up leaning intently over the conference table to better listen to the details of the destruction wrought on the super-vessel at the center of everyone’s attention. His expression reflected the gravity of what he’d just been told: there was a healthy amount of skepticism furrowed in the brow ridge, and there was no mistaking the fear behind the wide eyes and slightly gaping mouth.
Ciara leaned back heavily in her chair, slumping her weight into it as she silently observed the passionate discussion, a chill climbing into her chest. ...I jinxed it, I just read about those things in the archives last bloody night. How are we supposed to stand a chance...
At first Akiva took such destruction in stride. It was a tragedy to lose a vessel, but it, unfortunately, did happen. But to hear that it had happened so quickly -- that made his jaw drop. "How could an object so small have done this?"
It was Mrazak who answered. "The Clock Makers." His voice was ominous. There were few things in this universe which gave him nightmares, and so far only one of them had come to life. Unfortunately, his fear often turned to excitement. "Were it not for Captain Paige's stubborn refusal, we would have collected a sample. I never thought we would have gotten another chance." He looked to Armitage. "I assume that is why you're here, after all. They've made another appearance?"
'The Eros went down a year ago. During that time a number of colony projects were started in the region against Starfleet's recommendation," the map of Abadar's Gate returned, a bright white star began to blink. Next to it, in astronomical terms at least, blinked a red icon. "The Eros went down in the heliopause of this star system. Fourteen worlds, inner four are rocky, outer ten are gas giants. World 4 is smack damn in the habitable zone, and home to the colony New Far Florence. A mining colony working off the debt of a trio of major trans stellar corporations. Lockheed Utopia, Ingram Nanoscale Systems, and Echo Tach Com. Ships, tech's and comms."
The holo changed again to a revolving carousel of still images. A grey sky with black volcanic soil, stark white pre-fabricated buildings and power generators. And people, men and women, young and old: smiling.
"The colonial beacon shut down twelve hours ago after a report was sent in that the locals had received the distress call from an escape pod from the USS Eros. The Scout ship Perside was rerouted to do a flyby of the system, shooting to do a sub-warp flyby. We got a single report from it before it went silent," she made a gesture to the holo. The images faded, replaced by the angular segmented bar of an audio file. A harsh, grating whine of feedback filled the room as static raced up and down the scale.
And then a voice, or...no. Voices. Hundreds of them, all speaking at once, chattering over one another until a soupy mess of conversation filled the room. But they didn't sound happy. indeed that did not seem to be in a place where good-natured thoughts could hope to reside. The rush of voices soon rose into a screaming howl that drove daggers into the ears of anyone listening....and then cut off. This was a comm link straight to Hell.
"Given the fact I've been making a nuisance of myself trying to make Starfleet take the Clock Maker's as a serious threat, I was the top of the list when that message came down the pipe," Armitage said with a smile. "If I knew all it would take was a horror from beyond imagining, I'd have faked up my own months ago."
Akiva was horrified. All he could do was shake his head. "How was this... dealt with last time?"
"Quarantine," Mrazak spat. "Cowardly, ignorant quarantine protocols. But, now there is an entire colony at stake, we should have carte blanche this time." Despite the frown on his face carried over from the holographic report, he was nearly giddy with anticipation.
"Clock Maker's are dangerous. The Eros found a rock the size of a space suit helmet. Very unique spectrographic signature, its why we picked it up. In hindsight, it was probably a lure to bring the curious close enough to eat," Armitage's mechanical eye whined slightly as she looked around the table. "I did not misspeak there. 'Eat'. Clock Maker's use any available matter, be it technological or biological, to make more of whatever it is they are made of. The Eros looks like swiss cheese because a lot of her mass was used to make...well I guess you could call them Reavers. Humanoid fighting forms like walking sculptures made of obsidian knives. Easy to destroy with a phaser blast, but I watched a number of security teams get overrun when the deck plating near them dissolved into more Clock Maker matter."
Akiva was grateful for no security footage of that.
She mused for a moment.
"God knows what they'd do with a planet's worth of matter to play with," she parted her lips. "Which is why the USS Better Not Ask is transferring a weapon that officially does not exist in Starfleet's arsenal to the USS Phantom. If the situation is deemed irretrievable, we activate the weapon and Abadar's Gate loses a star from its night sky."
"We can Hobus the Clock Makers if necessary," Mrazak interjected, "but whether or not the colony is saved, we'll need containment measures for a benign sample. That will be our immediate priority."
Rodi had been taking notes, flagging items for further reading when he heard of a weapon. "What weapon would be brought under my care?" He asked, curious and already preparing to refuse it as well.
"Yes!" Akiva agreed. "More on... that."
Bao spoke, probably breaking protocol. "A trilithium device or red matter?" he asked. "You just described a self-replicating nano-bot swarm. Ridiculous Federation protests aside, researching that is forbidden in the Pentad, and carries the possibility of the death penalty. If these things are adaptive, or, Jade Emperor forbid, sapient, that just makes it worse," he said, a note of actual fear colouring his voice. "I am all for lobbing the forbidden weapon at the sun and getting out of the way as a first recourse."
“They were definitely under control. They acted with purpose, attacking points of resistance on the Eros and only stopped once nearly all life on the ship was extinguished. I’m pretty sure the only reason I survived was...was because of my ships AI, Heart Of Midlothian,” Armitage went silent for a moment, before continuing. “As for the weapon, Starfleet’s Back Magic division only let me skim the cliff notes manual for the thing. But the elevator pitch is, yeah, its red matter. Only seven grams of the stuff, but you can well imagine what the Romulan remnant would do if they knew Starfleet had even a nano gram left.”
She smiled fiercely.
“We drop that into Florences parent star, and they’ll be rewriting the gravity charts for the entire sector,” she eyed Akiva. “I am, in fact, suggesting we just fire the weapon from extreme range. The Eros was a cow of a ship, but she outweighed the Phantom a hundred to one. If we get a Clock Maker on board, there will not be five minutes of fighting. More like five seconds.”
Mrazak dismissed everyone's concerns with a wave of his hand. "The Eros was big, but slow. The Phantom's quantum slipstream drive will get us in and out before the Clock Makers even know dropped out of warp. And that is if they indeed have returned. We cannot lob a bomb into a star just to wipe out a couple of raiders." A sinister grin passed over his face for a moment. "We will, of course, plan for the worst eventuality." He clapped his hands several times in excitement. "Now, on to business! I have taken the liberty of registering Captain Armitage's arrival as a Theta alert, and so we shall respond accordingly."
Looking to Zork, he said, "Get the Phantom prepped and ready for departure within the hour."
Zork, literally at the edge of his seat and still looking aghast, looked up in disbelief at Mazrak. Friendly blobs of spongy-goop? Great. Docile Borg drones? Okay. Xena-MechWarrior-Princess stalking into the briefing room like a diesel engine in a whirlwind? Sure. Transporting Red Matter - seven grams of it! - and underhanding it into a star? In order to wipe out fist-sized rocks that ate up an entire Excalibur-class’s worth of matter in minutes? That caused Zork some pause. The ethical concerns; the logistics of carrying that kind of weapon; the risks to life, limb, and career that threatened every step of their objective; these were all valid and grave concerns that Zork leant his voice to, “Uuuuuuh -“
Turning to Rodi and Ciara, he said, "I want you to oversee the transfer and installation of the red matter device from Captain Armitage's ship. Make sure you both know it inside and out. That may be the only thing that gets us home."
A small 'thwump' is heard as the Irish woman sat back up in her seat sharply as the impassioned Mrazak turns to dish out the orders, her heart turning ice cold at the thought of dealing with red matter, in any quantity. "Of course. It's temperamental stuff, but I'm sure we'll be able to get a handle on it. These things won't stand a chance." Forcing a firm smile, Ciara glanced at Rodi as if looking for a reassuring friendly face as her brain raced on the ways they could implement such a weapon into the Phantom safely.
Rodi frowned, deeply. "I'll offer my personal objections in writing commander, but I'll get it done." the marine finally said after a moment of deliberation.
To Bao, he said, "I need every shred of data we have on the Clock Makers analyzed, including this most recent report from today. Find a way to predict their behavior and any potential weaknesses. We will need to collate that analysis with our biomedical and cybernetic specialists for containment purp...os...es..." Mrazak trailed off, suddenly realizing that there were field team specialists who had not come to the meeting. "Where are my medical specialists?!" His chin quivered with rage as he searched the room for them.
Akiva couldn't help but grin at the Vulcan's apoplexy, which did nothing to soothe Mrazak's anger.
"Ferrofax! Locate Lieutenants Kiril and McKay, and transport them to this spot. And then erect a level nine force field around them."
"One cone of shame coming up," Ferrofax said as a transporter whine filled the air.
Blue vortexes appeared side by side as Nevin and Nevada were deposited before Mrazak as ordered. The glimmer of a force field immediately surrounded them.
Nevada Materialized in a shocking state, her body bare of clothes and covered with water and soap suds. "Fucking Hell!" she yelped as she tried to cover herself up, her movements causing her to bounce against the force fields. "What the fuck!" She demanded.
Nevin definitely shared the woman's surprise, but luckily he was in a much less compromised situation. At least he was wearing a pair of black pants that he wore when meditating.
The spectacle caught Mrazak off guard. All he could do was blink at her angry outburst. Akiva had averted his eyes at first glance, but upon seeing Mrazak's inaction, felt compelled to act. "Oh, for Ha-Shem's sake, Mrazak," he said with disgust. "Ferrofax, put some holographic clothes on the lieutenant."
A holographic shimmer appeared around Nevin, becoming a standard Starfleet uniform with the blue undershirt collar.
"Holographic Clothes!" Nevada growled and hammered against the Forcefield. "You better get me Real clothes Or I swear To Fusion I'll Go out of my way to bury you in harassment charges!"
Akiva turned horrified. "I? But... no! It was..." He ran out the door. "I'll be right back with that!"
Nevin rolled his eyes at the Commander as he ran out the door. Of all the priorities, perhaps sending them back to where they came from would have been a better option than running to get clothes.
"Come on," Isaiah said, taking a step away from the table and towards the forcefield. "This is insane. You can't do that to them."
"Do what? Ensure they don't go on a field mission without vital life-saving intelligence?" Mrazak raised his eyebrow in challenge. "Now go do whatever it is you do. Unless you require an assignment?"
"Everyone is dismissed," Mrazak said to the entire room, "except for those two. Ferrofax, replay this briefing on an indefinite loop. Don't drop the force fields until they can answer 10 random trivia questions taken at random from everything that was said."
"I'll add subtitles." Ferrofax added.
Nevin glared at Mrazak, but dared not say a word. He knew there was nothing he could do and those in charge of the facility clearly didn't care about decency or ethics.
A recording of BaoJun's voice began to play. "Non-ionic detergent at .01%..."
RSS Feed