EP1 ACT 1
SECTOR KAPPA NINE NINE SIX OF FREE TERRITORY, FORMERLY THOLIAN SPACE IN THE
ALPHA QUADRANT
EARTH DATE: DECEMBER 22, 16:00 hours
A larger than average Ferengi Pod, bronze-burnished and dripping with tacky
add-ons, pumped a steady warp two through the new Free Territory bordering
Tholian space.
In its tiny lower deck, amid an oil and orange hued excuse of a cabin, a
handsome thirty something Starfleet officer slept obliviously as a slender, bony hand reached
through the open hatch and extracted his personal holdall. The name badge
stamped onto the holdall read 'Christian, S.L.I., Commander', though there
were heavy scratch marks over the last word. In the low bunk, the officer shifted
slightly, pulling the threadbare rug across his back, his stupor restless but
deep.
Inside Christian's mind, he dreamt of the fateful celebration that had taken
place only a month ago. He hadn't been there in person, though had intended
to be - an incident with the Cardassians saw to that. Because of this, he had
missed his parents' celebratory 8000th performance, suitably acted out upon
the infamous stage of the Theatre Imperial in Jeuneaux, capitol of the New
Paris Colony of Napoleon, where the two had first met.
On the grand and cavernous mock-Broadway style stage, the post-performance
party was swinging, with pulsing party lights and music, but Christian was
puzzled as to why he was here. He reminded himself this was only a dream, and
felt sick at the thought of what was to come. He wanted to leave, to wake up,
but he couldn't. As he thought of escape, Counsellor Skorran appeared beside
him. The Deltan's very appearance was soothing, but his words were firm:
"Don't resist your dreams, Commander, they are your unconscious path to
peace."
He'd said as much to Christian back aboard the USS Venture. But the words
didn't help him then or now. He was perspiring, heart racing, his parents
were nowhere to be seen and he felt the urgent need to find them. There were
Starfleet top brass mingling about the stage area, along with several
Federation dignitaries visiting the colony, actors, dancers and crew, some of
whom Christian had known since he was a boy accompanying his parents' troupe
on their tours. As he pushed through the crowd he overheard snippets of
conversation complementing his parents' performance:
"Their choice to perform The Taming of The Shrew on their Anniversary was
quite aptly an 'omage to their wildly turbulent courtship."
"With two such elderly actors playing the leading roles, it gave the play a
whole new edge, don't you think?"
"Have you seen the Christians' Anthony and Cleopatra? It's truly primal."
"Do you remember that time they did 'The Shrew on Vulcan? Talk about over
their heads."  Much laughter at this.
Pushing through a clump of alien musicians, chattering and clucking to each
other between sets, Christian finally found his parents, holding hands as usual and
politely holding court. They were delighted to see him: 
"Son, you made it. We thought you were stuck on your ship, light years away."
"How's my favourite Executive Officer? Not got himself a Woman or a Ship of his own yet,
I see."
Christian laughed, his parents were very fond of him, and he missed them when
he was away for too long. Ordinarily he would have thought of a witty
response, but again reminded himself that this was only a dream, and he was
merely an observer.
Suddenly, behind his parents, a blue-white flash of electrical discharge was
accompanied by a single scream and much scuffling. The crowd parted quickly, and
Christian saw a steel blue Medusan casket laying broken on the charred wooden
boards of the stage, energy crackling about its main systems and a very
obvious gash in its casing. His parents stood motionless, staring at the now
twinkling casket as the crowds, shielding their eyes, fled into the wings in
blind panic.
Silently, a figure dressed in black from head to toe came out of the stage
floor in front of Christian, blocking his view. Before he could respond, or
move the strange character out of the way, the faceless figure seized him by
the shoulders and dragged him off the stage and into the auditorium. His
parents began to scream, but didn't move. Christian couldn't stop his legs
from moving back, and his mouth was an open vacuum of empty sound as he got
further away from his parents standing alone on the stage. The Medusan entity
began to seep from its casket, bright, sparkling with such intensity that the
colour and light filled the entire house.
Christian's parents were now silent, rooted to the spot, unable to resist
looking at the hideous energy creature. He tried to call out to them, but
could only shed a single tear. His mother fell convulsing to the floor, and
it was only her action that caused his father to wrench himself away, covering
his eyes and swaying over his wife - driven mad by the Medusan effect.
Christian struggled against the shrouded figure, but the grip was unbreakable.
He turned away from his father and looked into his assailant's black visage.
As he stared into the figure's infinite face, still trying to wrestle free,
tiny sparkles of Medusan energy appeared from within, crackling where its eyes
should have been. Christian found the energy eyes irresistible, almost
beautiful. But they did not affect him, as they should have. It seemed with
this character the Medusan energy had no effect on him, as if the
figure did not wish him harmed. Realising that his own mind wouldn't be
taken, that he would not be joining his parents in their fate, Christian could
only flop into the faceless figure's chest and sob at his loss.
Christian slowly came into consciousness, his clothes sodden from sweat and
tears rolling down his cheeks. It had been another vicious nightmare.
Counsellor Skorran had said they would continue to flourish until he had truly
put the whole experience behind him, but that would take time. Counsellors
were always so smugly accurate in their diagnosis, but living it, Christian
felt, was another matter entirely.
Christian had tried hard to come to terms with the reality of what had
happened to his parents, but he freely admitted to Skorran that he held much
anger toward the Medusan delegation for their part in the 'accident'. He felt
his loss could not be more unjustified. A badly maintained power regulator
had caused a malfunction in the anti-grav of the casket. Coupled with the
particular angle in which the casket fell, the faulty component had caused the
power overload and the resulting explosion which ruptured the casket releasing 
the unwitting alien.
His parents hadn't realised what had occurred until it was too late and they
were mesmerised by the energy form of the Medusan. Christian's mother had died
almost immediately. Metaphorically stated by the New Paris pathologist in his
clearly apathetic coroner's log, her brain had been "fried to a crisp." That
was yet more pain to add to his already gut-wrenching bereavement. Seeing
security logs from the overhead sensors in the ceiling of the theatre's
auditorium had helped Christian to acknowledge their deaths, but somehow, with
them being on the stage like that, it had just seemed like another performance
to him. The realisation that it had been real, the pain, the horror of it
all, had come to him later, one night, when he had wandered the corridors of
the Venture naked, asleep, and crying out for his parents. Embarrassment to
add to his suffering. The thoughts continued to upset him when alone in bed
at night.
Immediately after the incident, Christian's father had been transferred to the
orbiting USS Intrepid where the Vulcan team of medics, said to be the best in
the field of mental illness among Starfleet's medical personnel, spent three
long days making their diagnosis. The Medusan entity, Korlan, had been safely
retrieved from the theatre by automatons, and was reported devastated by the
incident. Messages of condolence from Korlan via Medusan representatives on
the Federation Council to Christian had later been returned unviewed. He had
also filed an official complaint against the Medusan delegation and the
technicians on the New Paris Colony responsible for maintaining their
equipment. In truth, they were unsatisfying attempts at retribution on
Christian's part. All he got in return were official reports as to what
happened, and apologies from the parties involved with an indictment that such
an incident would not happen again. Empty promises for his grief.
Although Christian, still aboard the Venture, had been informed of the
incident and reviewed all the reports, the Cardassians continued to delay his
flight to his father's aid. In his absence, the crew of the Intrepid
continued to try and reach some part of his father's mind, even travelling to
the permanent facility orbiting Medusa, where a seemingly ancient blind human
telepath gave a more detailed assessment of his father's condition. The
verdict: he was beyond disjointed - aware, but not able to communicate. There
was nothing she in her infinite experience or anyone else could do.
By the time Christian finally made a rendezvous with the Intrepid on its
return to the New Paris Colony, his father was comfortable, but held in
restraints. Doctor K'Pa, CMO aboard the Intrepid, described his father's
condition as being like standing on one side of a vast lake, only vaguely
aware of what was on the other side, but unable to see it clearly, much less
get there. In between were many veils of consciousness, each with their own
imagery, causing his perceptions to be distorted. Physically speaking, his
father was fully functional, could even perform certain reflex tasks to
seeming perfection, but mentally he just wasn't all together.
On K'Pa's recommendation, a short leave of absence (for his own state of mind
as much as anything) took Christian and his father to the planet Elba II.
Christian was at first reluctant to put his father among criminally insane
life forms from around the galaxy, but when he realised the secure facility
holding the criminals was on the other side of the planet, he felt happier.
Nine thousand kilometres away from the underground fortress, on the sheer face
of a spectacular mountain with magnificent views, a huge care facility and
research establishment had been constructed as a home for the mentally ill.
It was somewhere for treatment and, in some cases, even cure. The nurses
and doctors were excellent, many from the Starfleet Medical Corps, and having
spent nearly two weeks on extended leave there, Christian felt comfortable
leaving his father in their hands, and ready to return to active duty. His
father's nurses promised to keep Christian informed on a weekly basis wherever
possible and Christian found that reassuring.
During the last afternoon he spent on Elba II with his father, Christian
received shocking new orders. Instead of returning to the USS Venture as
Executive Officer, a post he had been in for only six months, he was to be
transferred via Starbase 27 and the USS Enterprise to a command position
aboard the Firefly, a science vessel currently assigned to the newly
discovered Outer Zone. Out of the blue, he had made Captain. He cried as he
told his father the good news, but all the old man could do was drool and
manage a half smile. Before he left, Christian promised his father he would
do his parents proud, and that he would return to visit him at the earliest
opportunity.
The journey to Starbase 27 on the Runabout Solent had felt long and
uneventful, giving Christian time to read up on the data gathered so far on
Qovakia. As he waited on Starbase 27 for onward passage, Christian made
several communiqués to his friends and to his father.
Aboard the USS Enterprise, Christian had only the briefest of meetings with
Captain Picard, who congratulated him with a warm handshake and immediately
proceeded to talk about Christian's unusual childhood and his own love of
Shakespeare. Clearly Picard had fleetingly read Christian's resume and picked
a subject to ease the flow of the meeting he was obliged to have with another
of equal rank. Christian wished he had chosen another subject.
The conversation for some reason, perhaps because of the unusual setting, had
brought Christian embarrassingly close to tears, reminding him of his parents,
and he suspected Picard had realised a faux pas as he cut the meeting short.
Counsellor Troi had dropped by his quarters repeatedly after that day to drag
him away to a variety of events. Spending time with her was okay, but he
preferred his women a little less ... emotional.
But Christian did have some quality time with La Forge one evening. Geordi
had been his junior at the Engineering school by three years and was an equal
in the field of warp theory. Christian had made the transfer from engineering
to command just four years ago, and found himself missing his old engine rooms
when hearing about La Forge's adventures.
Back in the humming, and spicy smelling cabin of the Pod, Christian rubbed his face and
carefully rose to a crouch. Stepping through the small hatch into the closet-sized
access corridor, he almost hit his head on the multifarious amounts of curious
and mostly tasteless memorabilia strung up on the ceiling. Trophies and
souvenirs of the owner's travels, no doubt. Something didn't feel right; he
turned and looked through the hatch, noticing his holdall was missing. 'That
damned Ferengi...' he thought.
Christian inwardly cursed for the umpteenth time in 48 hours. Not more than a
day ago there he had been, reclining in the comfort of his resplendent temporary quarters
aboard the Enterprise, reading up the specs on the small, but amazing Firefly
science vessel and downloading the personnel files of his interesting new crew
to his personal padd when an urgent priority reassignment of the Enterprise
left Christian dumped onto the Starfleet Communications Relay at Epsilon XIV,
transported there hurriedly and unceremoniously at near-warp. 
The Relay now served a dual purpose, its original secondary function being as a border
outpost.  Now its subsidiary function was as regional base
for Starfleet and local patrol vessels in and around the new inclusion zone. The base 
was light years from anywhere and
weird looking. The communications array formed the largest part in the form
of two hexagonal 'wings' attached to a central column tapered at either end.
At one apex was a large, donut shaped module containing storage silos and
secure holding cells and at the other, a clump of cube shaped modules
containing administration and operations centres, accommodation and support
services sections and, slung underneath, a refuelling and external repairs
turret.
It was basic to say the least, and its personnel the isolationist, rugged
types you tended to find opting for this remote kind of posting. Relay
Commander Troppa didn't like Christian and didn't hide her feelings about it.
She seemed against him from the moment he fell off the transporter, posting
him the smallest and oldest of quarters next to the constantly whirring and
'plopping' reprocessing plant and being uncooperative concerning his onward
passage to the Outer Zone. Perhaps it grated her that he had been granted a command
at a relatively young age. Or maybe she didn't like humans, or Americans ... or
men. Christian didn't much care, so pestered her office repeatedly for news
concerning his transport.
Three long, head-splitting days later, in the middle of the night, Troppa had awoken him
from a fitful sleep, saying she had managed to arrange his onward passage and would he meet her in
the shuttle bay for immediate departure. Christian didn't stop to wash or put
on underclothes, he pulled his uniform and boots on roughly and grabbed his
holdall - he had refused the temptation to unpack, and took pleasure in
hitting the shuttle deck less than two minutes after the Commander's message.
His suddenly woeful expression must have been amusing to Troppa.  Looking at his 
onward carriage, he couldn't believe his eyes. An oversized
Ferengi Pod, clearly double decked and clad in burnished bronze sat pointing towards 
space. The shuttle
bay doors were housed, revealing the nebula beyond, a passive forcefield
holding the bay atmosphere in place. The Commander was almost smiling as a
security officer exited the turbolift and led a rough looking character with mad hair,
handcuffed, and still half asleep towards them.
Christian saw that the offender had Ferengi parentage, though he looked more
Human than he did Ferengi; a tall, thin man, with long, fine hair covering what head
bumps might be there, and small lobes that swept into the man's temples
without forming heavy ridges. His nose had faint markings where there would
have normally been scaling, and he had almost piercing green eyes. Then the
smell hit Christian, a heady aroma of stale alcohol, which matched this man's
unkempt hair, unshaven face (this half Ferengi even had the makings of a beard
- and was that chest hair Christian couuld see?) and well stained leather
apparel. 'A man could not look more renegade if he tried', Christian thought.
As the security officer unbound the yawning, unfocussed man, the Commander had
made a short speech:
"This is Rebbik, a ... 'trader' ... and pilot for hire in these parts. We brought
him in on minor smuggling charges yesterday. You are in a hurry to reach the
Outer Zone and I really can't be bothered with the paperwork for this felon,
so I've decided to waiver his penalties on the condition that he ferry you
through the Tholian wormhole to Qovakia." She turned on her heel to leave.
"In this?! But it could take days..." Christian almost pleaded.
The Commander paused only to smile slightly wider, "Three days, I reckon. But
don't worry, you'll be quite safe. Bored, but quite safe ... Commander."
With that she had bounded out accompanied by her stooges. Christian flushed
red. He had forgotten to put his extra pip on his uniform, leaving himself
wide open to a departing jibe from Troppa. He turned to the strange man who
grinned stupidly and offered his slightly shaking hand. Christian rolled his eyes, ignoring
the offer of acquaintance and walked toward the pod's entrance, noticing the
customisation Rebbik had made to his ... ship.
Rebbik was obviously very proud of his vessel, Christian thought, as for two
hours after departure he constantly hammered on about all the close scrapes he
had been in. Christian admitted to himself the man did seem to be a competent
pilot, and certainly used his skill as a technician and engineer to customise
what would have been a standard issue vessel into something far superior.
Yet his constant bragging, most of which was probably vastly exaggerated, and the
scratching, belching and farting forced Christian below; this was going to be a very
long journey.
As Christian climbed the short ladder rungs toward the upper deck, he could
hear Rebbik sniggering and coughing as he watched and listened to Christian's
log entries from his personal padd relating to his recent weeks of trauma.
"Do you Mind?" Lunging into the cockpit area, Christian snatched the padd off
the startled young man and kicked his legs off the vacant co-pilot seat. He noticed
Rebbik had got most of the way through a bottle of Saurian brandy and was now
frowning in inebriated annoyance.
"Hey, what you kick me for?" Rebbik was drunk all right, Christian thought.
"You," Christian fought for the words, knowing the man would only understand
something basic in his state, "are ... in BIG trouble."
Rebbik paused, then his face contorted into almost painful hysterics, ones
that wouldn't stop for a minute or two.
"Oh, jeez.." Christian murmured to himself and cast his eyes upward in defeat. But
there was no relief there as pictures of naked couples in a variety of
explicit poses filled his vision. He closed his eyes in controlled disgust, seemingly
making Rebbik ha and haw even more.
Rebbik continued to splutter and choke for breath, before shaking his head and
quietening down, "Man, you make me laugh. Oh, dear..."
As Rebbik wiped a tear, Christian frowned at the readings he had begun
analysing on the pod's flight control panel. He hit a few buttons for
confirmation, causing Rebbik to become agitated.
"You idiot!" Christian couldn't believe it; "We're light years off course and
... oh my God, we're in Tholian territory!"
"No, no no," Rebbik smiled again, shaking his head, "you mean we're in free
territory that USED to be Tholian space."
"No, I mean you're the worst pilot I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."
Rebbik needed no further prompting as his eyes checked the readouts. Spurting
out a particularly descriptive curse in Ferengi he was a crazed man over the flight
controls, flipping the pod on its side as he turned it around in a sharp arc and headed back
toward free space at maximum warp.
A warning chirp worried Christian. "Don't tell me..."
"Ah," Rebbik's hands were lightening fast with the familiarity of his ship's
systems, but still the man found the courage to play down the situation, "just
a couple of Tholian patrol vessels. Nothing to worry about."
"Oh, great," Christian slumped back in his seat, folding his arms. He waited
a couple of heartbeats, a seeming eternity as Rebbik floored the accelerator
and kept the ship steady on course. The warning signal chirped again. And
again. And again. Christian couldn't take it any longer; "Time to free
space?"
"Ah... just two minutes," Rebbik tapped a couple of buttons, "and before you
ask, they'll be within firing range in about one and a half." Although his
voice seemed clear and controlled, Christian could see the man had begun to
perspire. Christian had been in a similar situation twice before,
once aboard the Shuttlecraft Panama in battle simulations around Saturn's
rings, and once aboard a Lethean scoutship in the Neutral Zone. In both cases
the ships were in dire situations and in both cases his actions to either take
control or assist the pilots in their work had done nothing more than
interrupt their concentration and cause more problems and tension. Christian
had vowed not to interfere a third time.
Christian sat on his hands as his tension rose, and couldn't help make a
suggestion. "Open a channel to them," he said.
Rebbik scoffed; "You know they won't listen."
"Just do it!" Christian was tensing up and took a deep breath to relax. "We
should at least try, stall for time."
Rebbik hit the autotransmit but it wasn't acknowledged. "Think about it,
we're running away from them well inside their borders! I don't think
stalling for time is an option." Though that gave Rebbik an idea.
Christian had sat forward now, hands gripping the console but resisting the
temptation to operate controls, mulling over their limited options. A panel flashed 
red in front of him.
"They're trying to lock weapons," Christian reported.
Rebbik was still calm, but busy, which seemed more than a little strange to Christian;
"I'm going to try something."
As the half-Ferengi brought several redundant systems on-line, Christian
watched, trying to follow his actions to work out what he intended to do. It
seemed Rebbik was setting the structural integrity field for a big overload,
and the engines to reinitialise at emergency speed after stalling.
"Er... is that such a good idea?" Christian knew that when performing such a
dangerous manoeuvre in anything less than a Starfleet ship it was touch and go
whether the inertial dampners would come on-line before the vessel jumped to
warp.
Rebbik ignored his question and activated the rear viewer on the panel below
Christian; "Tell me when they fire their torpedoes."
Christian looked at the man beside him in disbelief, then at the viewer in
front of him as the images of the arrow head shaped ships closed in. He was
conscious of swallowing hard. Suddenly there was a flash from each vessel.
"Torpedoes away!" Christian shouted.
"Hang on!" Rebbik throttled back and spun the Pod into a tight reverse
corkscrew, cutting engines. The ship gave a deafening groan and systems
popped and sparked all around them. Both missiles overshot their target and
exploded into two balls of energy webbing a few hundred metres in front of
them. The Pod's systems flickered back on line. The Tholians had to swerve
to avoid collision with the Pod, giving Rebbik just enough time to jump to warp.
In less than a minute, and in one piece, they were finally out of range and in free
space.
When they were safely over the border and sure of no pursuers, Rebbik slowed
the pod to a halt. "Don't tell me, I know. That was really stupid."
"Actually," Christian was still aware of the man's inebriation, even if he was
more alert now and pumped with adrenalyn, "that was an act of war. We're damned 
lucky we weren't blown into space dust."
"I suppose you are going to report me for this?" Rebbik seemed pathetic to
Christian in this state.
Christian laughed at the man's incredulity. "What do you think?" Christian
held back his anger, despite the urge to pop him one. But he knew damn well
that he couldn't report Rebbik for the incursion without facing a reprimand of
his own. As far as Starfleet regulations went, simply by being on board he
would be considered an accessory to the incident. Then again, he thought, he
didn't have to let Rebbik know that. Finally he felt it was time to take
charge.
"I'm laying in a revised course for the wormhole. Taking in our minor detour,
we should be there in ..." Christian slumped, "... about sixteen hours." 
Christian reached across in front of the tense man as he entered instructions into 
the pilot's
console and realised for the first time that Rebbik was probably only a few
years younger than himself. "Why don't you go below and sober up," he suggested.
Rebbik didn't answer, but nodded. He stood and ducked back through the hatch toward the
galley and head in the rear. He stopped on the other side of the hatch to
say, "For what it's worth, I'm... ah... I'm sorry, Captain."
Christian suddenly realised he still hadn't put his extra pip onto his
uniform. Rebbik must have discovered he had been promoted through reading his
padd and he thought it odd that this character would be apologising - much
less give recognition to his official rank. 'Must be the Human in him,'
thought Christian, 'that or the Saurian brandy, of course.'
***
STORAGE FACILITY ORLEGA ONE, HELUB, 16:30 hours
"Re Lorken, did you hear me? I said who are the Ore?" Leonard wasn't sure who
Re Lorken was most afraid of, the K'Tani or these Ore people. The Minister
just shook her head, staring into the air.
"We should leave," she said suddenly and picked up her headband, turning toward the runabout. 
Leonard tried to prise the spear out of the floor to take it and the flag back
with him for further analysis, but it was wedged tight. He heard Re Lorken
gasp aloud and turned to see what the problem was now.  She had stopped dead in 
her tracks only a few paces away. Beyond the spot where she stood, the hangar 
floor was empty as far as he could see. The runabout had gone.
***
 ACT 2