REP: Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile (OCC - TNG era) 33 - The Orion Rhythm, [PG] 1/1
Jay P Hailey
Author: Jay P Hailey (JayPH...@hotmail.com)
Series: ST-OM, OCC - TNG era [XX/56?]
Rating:[PG]
Archive: Fine with me, just tell me where.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Star Trek. I claim Original Characters
and Situations for me.
Webpage HTTP://jayphailey.8m.com
Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile
Episode 33 - The Orion Rhythm
(Stardate 49085)
By Jay P. Hailey
and
The Star Trek Players
Alpha was a Green Orion woman. She never knew her exact age, but figured
that she was getting pretty old. Most of the people she knew were younger
than she was. Alpha was still very sensual and alluring. Externally she
hadn't changed since she attained her full growth. If she was careful to
mask her expression, no one could tell that she wasn't just another piece of
Green fluff.
Once again Alpha found herself on a slave ship heading for some unknown
world. Time and tide made her dominant among the female slaves on the ship.
She was the advisor, the confessor and the general emotional support for the
younger women on the ship. This was the accepted role of the alpha female
and Alpha performed this role well. The alpha female also controlled
violence, arbitrated disputes and took her cut of the drugs and contraband
that cycled through the ship.
As long as the merchandise wasn't damaged and the "Natural Order" wasn't
threatened, then the Orion masters encouraged and supported the alphas of
their slave contingent. There were some draw backs. If there was violence to
an Orion or an escape attempt, then Alpha shared the blame and the
punishment along with the perpetrator. Dominant Greens soon learned to quash
these activities in order to save their own hides. Of course the status of
alpha carried other perks. Alphas generally got their way, and were rewarded
with special privileges by the masters.
This was not Alpha's first stint as a senior slave. Often the issue was
settled with combat. Once upon a time Alpha, in a fit of ambition had beaten
an older woman and had taken the post of alpha away. She remembered how bad
a job she had done and how the whole experience left her screaming in an
agonizer booth. These days, Alpha carefully avoided the top spot. It was too
much trouble and entailed too much attention from the Orion masters.
On this trip, Alpha was the oldest and the most experienced slave. She was
named senior almost by default. Alpha took the job reluctantly but with the
awareness that no one else would keep order as well.
Telos, another Green Orion woman, did not agree with Alpha. She wanted the
alpha post for all the selfish reasons and all the perks. Telos' ambition
was tempered by fear. If she tried to defeat Alpha and failed, then her
status would be harmed. Status and small dregs of power were very important
to the slaves. They didn't have much else.
Alpha did not doubt her ability to beat Telos and keep her in her place.
What made Alpha really sad was that it was all something she had seen before
from one side or the other. Even the move to new planet only offered a
variation on a theme. Alpha was tired of the routine.
Some masters were nice; others were cruel but the fact that none of them
ever set her free meant that in the end it was all just more of the same.
Even the small rewards that Alpha's life offered her seemed like a boring
repeat. Alpha understood now why so many of the older women committed
suicide.
Zarnok, The alpha male came to her. He was gladiator. He had faced every
type of opponent, even the odd Klingon who was captured alive. He won every
match. Alpha eyed his muscular frame approvingly. As the alpha male he had
the right to make the first sexual approach to Alpha. Sometimes the males
tried to take a sort of ultimate alpha status by conquering the alpha female
with sex, love or violence. Alpha was too old to be impressed by sexual
tricks. Only the youngest of Green Orion females could be affected in that
way. She knew that love was chancy at best. Her own true love had been
stripped from her and sent away long ago. If Zarnok beat her, she would
survive it. If he killed or injured her, then the Captain of the slave ship
would kill him. Alpha made sure early on that he knew this. One Green woman
was not worth a gladiatorial champion, but five were. A green male who was
violent in this way was considered a beast who was uncontrollably dangerous.
"Alpha." Zarnok said. "I wish to speak to you of my plans."
"Uh oh!" Alpha thought. "Here comes big trouble."
"I have been speaking with the others. We males are powerful warriors. You
women are healthy and strong. We can bear our captivity no longer." Zarnok
said.
Alpha felt a little ill. If he had already been speaking to others, then
his escape plot might already have gotten back to the captain. Worse, as the
senior, the Orion masters expected her to instantly report all such talk to
them immediately. If Alpha did not, then she would be tortured when the
escape failed and the leaders were executed.
Alpha turned away from Zarnok. "I heard nothing."
"Telos said that this would be your response. She said she will challenge
you once your cowardice was exposed." Zarnok said.
"Telos is an idiot and so are you." Alpha said quietly. "You will both be
tortured and thrown out the airlock."
"Are you so certain? Our long trip has given us ample opportunity to study
this ship and its weaknesses." Zarnok said. He was confident that his plan
would succeed.
"I'm certain. Zarnok, you bastard. You've put me in either the agonizer or
the airlock. It is only up to me to choose which one." Alpha said.
"It's not me. It is our Orion masters who put us in such positions."
Zarnok said intensely. "Don't ever forget that."
Alpha had to admit that the young warrior had a point. She thought
carefully about what she would do next. It was literally a matter of turning
over the leaders of the plot to be exterminated or joining them and taking
the almost certain risk of being killed herself. Alpha realized that even
the prospect of being tortured and killed sounded better than simply
enduring more of the same for a few more years.
"Listen to me carefully Zarnok. I will tell you how each of the escape
attempts that I have seen has failed." Alpha said.
Zarnok made himself comfortable and began to listen with intense interest.
-*-
Denkos arranged himself comfortably on his bridge. It was more difficult
than it had to be. Denkos looked more like a leg breaker than the commander
of an Imperial Orion cruiser. He had been trained as a technician, a lower
middle class occupation. Through hard work, crafty intelligence and a sense
of utter ruthlessness, Denkos had ridden every opportunity that fate had
given him until he had enough to purchase his officer's commission and a
command in the Orion Space Navy.
Now he had to wear finery that was much more suited to the bored younger
son of some noble house than to the commander of a starship. It was loose,
billowy, flopping clothing that was out of place on Denkos and on the bridge
of a starship, but appearances must be maintained.
It was all part of the natural order. Nobles, even minor ones who command
obscure starships were simply better than normal Orions. One did not flaunt
the natural order. Denkos tried to make the best of a bad situation by
hiding useful tools and devices among the many folds of his robes.
The Orion cruiser Gilbron was a good investment. The Orion High Command
allowed border patrol ships to keep a large proportion of the loot they were
able to take. If a commander were lucky, crafty or very good, he could make
a sizable fortune that way. Sometimes Orion commanders were able to take and
hold entire planets that way. In this manner they became much greater
nobles. This was offset by the risk of being blown out of the sky by
Klingons. Klingon ships were good salvage, when you could get them home
intact. Klingons didn't make good slaves, except for the gladiatorial pits.
All in all, the Klingons made border patrol and deep space probes much
more dangerous and risky a proposition than it would otherwise be.
"Sir! I have a report!" The signals technician said. Denkos restrained
himself. His natural impulse was to leap to his feet and say "Let's see what
fate has laid before us today!" However, a commander could not be
unrestrained with his crew. Nothing they had to say could be that important
or they would command ships of their own by now. So Denkos lounged and said
in as bored and apathetic a tone as he could muster. "Yes? What is it?"
"Sir, we are receiving a distress call!" The signalman said.
"Oh?" Denkos tried to sound unimpressed and failed. That would mean a
salvage claim at least.
"The slave ship Arno reports an uprising! They request immediate
assistance, Sir!" The Signalman shouted happily.
That meant a salvage claim against the ship and any slaves that happened
to survive. If the commander of the slave ship was gone, then the Arno and
any surviving cargo belonged to Denkos and the crew of the Gilbron. That
would be a serious amount of money for all of them. Except for one little
complication.
"Was the signal aimed directly for us, or was it a wide band
transmission?" Denkos asked.
The Signalman checked. "Sir! It was a wide band transmission, Sir!"
Denkos dropped all pretense of being a bored son of nobility and jumped to
his feet. "Set course to intercept the Arno, maximum warp!"
"Aye, Sir!" The helmsman replied. The Gilbron turned and began to streak
towards the call. No one seemed to notice Denkos' less than noble air.
Everyone knew that if a genuine younger son of nobility managed to get to
the Arno then his noble rank would entitle him to the best pickings from the
ailing transport. That was the natural order of things.
-*-
The Gilbron roared towards the location of the stricken slave ship.
"Sir! I have a report!" The signal man shouted. He sounded unhappy.
"What is it?" Denkos asked.
"Long range sensors reveal that a starship has the Arno in tow, Sir! There
are no life signs on the slave ship!" The Signalman was already counting his
losses.
"On screen." Denkos said. What crafty Orion commander had beaten him to
the prize? The main view screen came to life and showed an alien ship towing
the Arno. The alien was not like anything Denkos had ever seen before. Its
main body was a large saucer. Various pods and nacelles hung off of it
weirdly. The alien ship was huge, twice the size and eight times the
internal volume of the Gilbron.
"Who in the hell is that?" Denkos snarled. "Sound the alert!"
-*-
"A large number of slaves died in the uprising." Watabe said. He was the
Chief of Security for the Federation starship Endeavor. "We managed to
rescue 45 of them."
"How about the slave ship's crew?" Captain Mitchell asked.
"Fewer. About 15 of them." Watabe reported.
"How many of each were there to begin with?" Paul Durango asked.
"Some where over one hundred slaves and about forty crew." Watabe said.
"What is the condition of the slave ship?" Mitchell asked.
"Good. Most of the damage was to the main computer and it's internal
security systems. The engines and life support are fine and the hull is
intact. With a little work I can repair the slave ship's main computer and
then we've got another ship." Genevieve said. She was the Endeavor's chief
engineer.
"Can you repair our engines with material from the slave ship?" Mitchell
asked.
Genevieve shook her head. "No, Sir. The Orion ships run on a different
internal system. It's incompatible with our own."
Mitchell sighed.
"Captain, correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that be piracy?" Paul
Durango asked. He was the Endeavor's Chief Science Officer. "We rescued the
slaves. I don't think we have the right to tear apart the Orion ship
afterwards."
"Mr. Durango, have you made any progress on finding this end of the Delta
Wormhole?" Mitchell asked softly.
Durango grimaced. "We have it on long range sensors, now. It's 5 light
years away, moving at warp 4. The speed and direction seems to change almost
at random. I'm guessing at this point, but I'll say that this end of the
Delta Wormhole is as repelled by warp drives as the other end is attracted
to them."
"So what is our chance of catching the wormhole?" Mitchell prompted.
"If my guess is correct, almost nil." Durango admitted. "The mouth of the
worm hole acts as a power leach. As we closed it would steal the energy from
our warp-bubble. As fast as we approached it, it would recede that much
faster."
"Any other options?" Mitchell asked.
"We're three thousand light years away from Federation space in the
Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy." Watabe said. "If the engines weren't damaged
we might be able to go straight home."
Genevieve shook her head again. "Maybe, but if we broke down in the middle
of the trip, that would be it for us. There are no stars out there. We'd be
stuck for a very long time.
"Worse than that," Durango added, "The amount of interstellar gas thins
out in the Gunninga gap. Our engines wouldn't be able to scoop enough
deuterium to operate at maximum efficiency. We'd have to slow down quite a
bit before we reached the break even point. That increases the amount of
time necessary to cross the gap to more than five years."
"That increases the chances of a critical component failure." Genevieve
pointed
out.
"What's the current status of the engines?" Mitchell asked.
"Not great. The passage through the wormhole nearly destroyed them. Main
power is steady at fifty percent, and our top speed is warp 6, no more."
Genevieve said.
Mitchell took a deep breath. "What Paul said was correct. To strip the
Orion slaver of parts to repair the warp drive is illegal and unethical. I
figured it might be worth doing life in a penal colony to get us back home."
Mitchell grinned wryly "Fortunately, Orion engineering has saved me from
that ethical dilemma."
"Doesn't the rescue of the slaves pose a similar dilemma?" Watabe asked.
"No. Should it?" Mitchell asked, confused.
"Yes, it should, on two counts. One, intervening in the internal affairs
of these Orions is a clear breach of the Prime Directive. Secondly, if we
refuse to return the slaves, then we have forty five new passengers who
contribute nothing and are an added drain on our systems." Watabe pointed
out. "If we do try to cross the Gunninga gap, that might be the difference
between success and failure."
"You're all heart, aren't you?" Durango said, angrily.
Watabe looked at him coldly. "Never."
"That's enough." Mitchell said. "Watabe, question the Orion crew. Find out
what you can about this region of space from them. When you're done, beam
them back to their ship. Miriah is orienting our new guests. See that they
are assigned quarters and safety training. As soon as that's begun, we'll
move out."
-*-
"Here they come." Watabe said. They were back on the bridge as the first
of the native ships to respond to the distress call arrived.
"What's our status?" Captain Mitchell asked.
"Main power is at fifty percent. Weapons are all on line. Our maximum
speed is warp six." Brekka Di said. She was the Bajoran Chief of Operations
of the Endeavor.
"Can we boost main power at all?" Mitchell asked. He hated to get into a
confrontation while his ship was in such dire straights.
Watabe consulted the Chief Engineer. "No sir. The warp core is extensively
damaged. Lt. Commander Quest reports she needs a ship yard to fix it."
"Yellow alert." Mitchell ordered. "Mr. Watabe, what is your analysis?"
"It's a standard Orion Raider design. His weapons and shields are on
standby. They seem to be Klingon style devices, either captured or copied."
Watabe said. "We can take him."
"Good." Mitchell said. "Open hailing frequencies."
"Aye, Sir." Watabe sent the signal.
-*-
"Who is your leader?" Miriah asked. She was the Klingon/Green Orion First
Officer of the starship Endeavor.
The group of Green women shuffled around, staring at her. They were naked
or dressed in standard issue coveralls from the brig replicator.
"Anyone?" Miriah asked. "No? Okay, listen up. This is Federation starship.
In the Federation we don't have slavery. As of now, you are free people,
with a few exceptions."
The Orion women traded nervous and confused glances. One stepped forward.
"What are these exceptions?"
"Since this is a Starfleet ship under way in space, you are obligated to
follow the orders of the Captain directly and without hesitation." Miriah
said. "I'm sorry, but you don't get a choice in this. All of our lives may
depend on it."
"So what's the difference between being owned by the Captain and being
obligated to follow his orders?" The Green woman sneered.
Miriah thought about it carefully. "When we reach a starbase you will be
well and truly free. Then you may file a complaint with Starfleet if you
feel that the Captain has mistreated you."
The women looked confused. Alpha and Zorn came in escorted by Security.
They were the last ones beamed off the stricken slave ship. It was their
duty as the strongest survivors of the uprising.
Zarnok had not been the alpha because he was the toughest gladiator.
Zarnok was alpha because Zorn could not be bothered with such things. Zorn
was by far one of the scariest people that Alpha had ever seen. His figure
seemed the same as any gladiator's. The difference was scarring. Zorn was
covered with a network of scars. He had been extensively beaten and tortured
by someone who cared nothing for his resale value. Then he had entered the
gladiatorial pits with the same lack of concern. The thing that made Zorn
scary was the look in his eyes. There was no love or warmth or happiness
there. There was only a machine that quietly waited for its next opportunity
to kill.
The smell of the Orion pheromones was musky and pleasant to Miriah. The
pheromones that caused lust in others was simply a pleasant smell that
reminded Miriah of home.
Alpha realized that she could smell the Klingon officer, too.
"You're one of us?" Alpha asked.
"I don't understand." Miriah said. She was looking at Zorn and his dead
eyes. Idly she wondered if she could take him hand-to-hand. It was just
another Klingon impulse that she had to suppress. Random fights with people
would not help her present the impression of a professional Starfleet
Officer. Miriah hardly noticed that she had these urges anymore.
"You're a Green." Alpha used the Orion word for her race.
Miriah nodded slowly. "I am half Green and half Klingon."
Alpha was amazed. "How is this possible?"
"What?" Miriah asked. "Me?"
"I once had a child with a Klingon. She was a Green, just like me. Our
kind doesn't mix, we breed more Greens." Alpha said. It was an old memory.
Where was that girl now?
Miriah said. "My mother and father had to work hard to get me." It was a
nice feeling to know that they wanted her so much that they were willing to
have her built gene by gene. It was a laborious and expensive procedure.
"You wear the uniform of these people. Are you a member of the crew?"
Alpha said. Greens were never used as the crew of a space ship. It was much
too dangerous to teach them the technical skills needed.
"I'm the First Officer of this ship." Miriah said. "Only the Captain
outranks me."
"The Captain owns you! Do you share his bed at night?" The other woman
said.
"Telos, be silent." Alpha said, with a snap.
"Come in here and see if you can make me!" Telos said.
Alpha couldn't believe that Telos would be so stupid. To challenge for the
dominant rank among strangers could only cause problems. "Now is not the
time."
"Coward!" Telos hissed.
"Stop." Miriah said. "We don't solve things that way here."
"Am I or am I not a free person?" Telos said.
"I'll tell you how free people do it. Every one who wants this woman to
speak for them raise your right hand." Miriah gestured at Alpha.
Most of the Green women raised their hands. Telos snarled and a few
quailed, but mostly they kept their hands up. Miriah noted that the Orion
fighter also put his right hand up.
"That settles it. If she-" Miriah pointed at Telos "-tries to bully you or
intimidate you, talk to your leader or to me and we'll throw her into the
brig."
They all looked at Miriah.
"Stupid Bitch! We're already in the brig!" Telos laughed.
"My mistake. Computer, drop security force field in brig module five."
Miriah gave the computer her identification code.
The field across the brig door turned off and the Green women were set
free on the unsuspecting starship.
Telos briefly considered attacking Alpha, but stopped. Might the weird
Klingon/Orion woman interfere? Might the security goons with the guns? All
this was hypothetical. The big gladiator was watching her with a cold
expression that said "I know what you're thinking. Move and I'll kill you."
Mutants and armed troops were one thing, but the gladiator scared Telos.
"I have one more thing to say before we get you settled." Miriah said.
"Since we don't hold slaves and since we consider you all to be free people,
we can not force you to come with us. If anyone wants to return to the Orion
ship please tell me. It's not too late now, but soon we will be away from it
and I don't know when we can drop you on a friendly planet. Part of staying
includes your promise to obey the orders of the Captain and his
representatives. Does anyone want to go back?"
No one did. Miriah led the group of green women through the ship assigning
them quarters and explaining how things worked.
-*-
Alpha waited carefully to see what would happen. The sickbay of the
strange ship was very complex. There were all sorts of people in there. They
were treating the injured Green Orion survivors. Alpha had undergone medical
treatment before. Some of it was quite competent. Alpha was valuable and her
health was important. These people seemed a little distracted by matters of
comfort. They used drugs to dull pain where the veterinarians who treated
her did not.
There were many humans in the sickbay. The crew of the ship seemed mostly
human, which was weird. Alpha didn't think that humans even had starships of
their own.
Alpha was unselfconsciously naked. Green Orion women lost their nudity and
sexual taboos early. The transporters of the big ship took Alpha away but
left her clothing and weapons behind. There were human guards with big
rifles at the doors of the sickbay. Alpha had heard at one time that Humans
were as oversexed as Golden Orions, and maybe even more so. The glances that
she was drawing from the people in the sickbay let her know that this might
be true. Alpha had mixed feelings about it. Her body produced pheromones
that caused lust in most humanoids, even Vulcans, though they hid it well.
It was comforting to Alpha that her natural tools and weapons were still
functioning. On the other hand, sex as a tool for power could backfire
badly, and there did seem to be a lot of people on the ship. Alpha had been
a prostitute before. She knew that after a while commercial sex became
tiring and boring. Causing lust in the crew of this new ship could turn out
to be either a curse or a blessing.
The strange Klingon/Green woman was in the sickbay, aloof and precise.
Alpha wondered why she was so repressed, but it really wasn't her problem.
The doctor was a Vulcan lady. She approached Alpha. "Greetings."
"Greetings yourself." Alpha said.
"I request your help." Dr. Matae said.
"With what?" Alpha asked. She would not have been so presumptuous with a
Golden Orion, but all the Vulcans she had ever met had been slaves.
"One of your males is reluctant to allow treatment. I am having difficulty
communicating with him." Dr. Matae said.
Alpha nodded and followed the Vulcan doctor to another wing of the
sickbay. Miriah followed. Alpha understood the problem immediately. The
patient was Zorn.
Alpha gathered herself. "My son." She said. It was common for alpha women
to adopt children and adolescents. Zorn had never had a chance to be a child
or an adolescent. Alpha guessed that he was damaged in his mind. She had not
adopted him on the slave ship because as soon as it reached its destination,
they would be separated. Alpha didn't want to let herself care that much,
when she would never know what happened. Now the situation was different.
Zorn started and looked at her. What was that in his eyes?
"My son, the doctor needs to make you whole. I want you whole, too." Alpha
said. She discovered that she meant it. Many of the Greens were dead in the
escape attempt. Alpha didn't feel like saying good-bye to anyone else.
Zorn's expression broke for a split second. Then he looked dubiously at
Matae. Alpha understood. He didn't trust the strangers. "He doesn't trust
you." Alpha told Matae.
"I am aware of that." Matae said. "Is there anyway to overcome this? This
man is injured."
Alpha realized that Zorn had a bandaged wound. He was probably aware of
it, but it didn't trouble him. He was well versed in pain.
"Let her treat you, please. I will stand over you. I will let no harm come
to you." Alpha said.
"I have taken an oath." Matae said. "I have promised to do no harm."
Zorn looked at her blankly.
Alpha told him. "She is a Vulcan. They do not lie."
Zorn looked at Alpha and then nodded shortly at Matae. Alpha was struck by
a moment of uncertainty. Zorn trusted her. If she betrayed that trust, then
Zorn might kill her, and he would be justified. Alpha repeated an old rumor
that Vulcans didn't lie, but knew for a fact that it wasn't true. She had
watched a new Vulcan slave tell very convincing lies as he tried to escape.
Of course, he was unsuccessful.
Matae took out a scanner and showed it to Zorn. "This is a scanner. It
will look into your body and tell me what it sees."
Zorn looked at it blankly. Alpha knew he understood, but simply did not
care that much.
Dr. Matae began to scan Zorn. Her eyebrows rose. "Remarkable."
Miriah looked over her shoulder at the display. "Oh, gods."
Alpha looked over her shoulder. The scanner showed a mysterious picture
that Alpha had trouble deciphering. It seemed to be Zorn's insides. Seeing
her interest, Matae turned the display around so that Alpha and Zorn could
watch too.
"This is approximately here." Matae slowly pointed to Zorn's chest.
As they went on, Matae pointed out each instance where a surface scar
meant lasting internal damage. As she went on, Alpha watched her grow angry.
Alpha knew that Vulcans liked to hide their emotions and to deny them. To
see anger at all in a Vulcan meant that she was raving mad, by comparison.
Alpha was touched. Were these people really that naive?
"What point does looking at all of this do?" Alpha asked. Zorn's prior
owner had everything fixed that could possibly be. "What could you do to
about these old wounds? Let them go. Remembering them only brings out old
pain."
"I can repair all the damage we have scanned." Matae said. "If Zorn
wishes, I will."
Alpha was impressed. This was advanced medicine.
As they scanned Zorn's head, they discovered that his tongue had been cut
out. Matae had to leave for a few moments to regain her composure. Miriah's
lips pulled back in an involuntary snarl. Alpha knew that Klingons snarled
under many circumstances. Miriah was upset at finding Zorn's tongue missing.
Alpha watched this strange display while Zorn fingered some of his old scars
thoughtfully.
-*-
"In the name of the Great Orion Empire I demand that you return our ship,
our crew and our cargo." Denkos said.
"I apologize for any misunderstanding." Mitchell said. "We responded to a
distress call. We responded appropriately. We mean no harm. However, slavery
is strictly against our customs and laws. We will not return anyone
unwillingly to your custody."
"This is an act of outright piracy!" Denkos raged. His rage was carefully
faked. The big alien ship had a good claim to the whole ship, crew and
cargo, but they were assaulting the natural order. Denkos was confused,
irritated and uncertain.
"Call it what you will. We will not return the slaves." Mitchell said
shortly.
"Return the Arno and it's crew." Denkos said. "We'll discuss the rest.
Don't assault the Great Orion Empire lightly, human. You will live to regret
it." He cut the channel.
"Any better results from our scan?" He asked the Signalman.
"No, sir." He had quit yelling by now. "Much of the alien ship is open to
scans. It's huge. The weapons and defensive systems are shielded. I can't
guarantee you what they have or don't have."
The tactical officer said. "By ourselves, that monster probably outguns
us. With two or three more ships we can gain a definite advantage."
"Enough for a capture?" Denkos asked.
"Possibly." The Tactical officer admitted.
"That would be nice." Denkos said. Even if a senior nobleman came to join
in the capture, he would have to buy Denkos and his crew out of their shares
of the claim in order to put the alien monster to work for himself.
"Prepare to send a message." Denkos said. It was time to call for backup.
-*-
The Arno restored power and moved away from the Endeavor. Several new
ships were heading towards the scene. One was already there. It was the
Belkon, commanded by a distant cousin of the Emperor himself.
NeBan was irked with Denkos. It was a hysterical, presumptuous act to call
for help like he did. NeBan briefly considered arranging an accident for
Denkos. As the commander of a patrol cruiser he had purchased his way into
the lower ranks of the nobility. NeBan considered getting rid of him as a
sort of preventive maintenance to keep idiocy out of the noble gene pool.
NeBan decided he was far too late for that, and besides spending money on
idiots even to exterminate them simply encouraged them.
The alien ship was a marvel, true, but was it worth the price? If the
attacked it, then NeBan was risking his own skin, which he valued highly.
Following this, he would have to pay to repair his own ship and to buy out
the rest of the captains who joined the effort.
Now that the Arno was free, a lot of the profit margin was already in his
hands. NeBan did the math in his head. Depending on what price the aliens
asked it might actually be cheaper to pay the aliens off themselves than to
attack them and pay the Orion captains later.
"They have kept the surviving greens, Sire." His executive officer
reported.
"Hmm." NeBan said off handedly. They hadn't killed the crew, and hadn't
charged anyone for the return of the ship. All the aliens had really taken
was what was due them anyway. If they set the Greens free on their own world
then it was really their own problem.
"Hail the aliens." NeBan said.
"Yes, Sire."
The alien ship answered the call with a visual signal. Their bridge was a
comfortable and modern looking place, done in a very understated fashion.
NeBan enjoyed the subtle sensibilities displayed. The Orions couldn't afford
such subtlety. A noble must proclaim his status or loose it. That was part
of the natural order.
The crew of the big ship was mostly humans. NeBan recognized them as a
Klingon client race. Sometimes they were encountered as troops or very
junior officers on Klingon ships. NeBan had a moment of fear. Was the
monstrous ship a Klingon battleship luring the Orions into a trap? No. The
Klingons weren't very subtle. Tough, vicious and tenacious, but not subtle.
"I am Viscount NeBan of the Orion Space Navy. I would speak to your
commander." NeBan said.
One of the humans stepped forward. His uniform was a black coverall with
colored shoulders, a small badge and gold buttons of some sort on the
collar. It was virtually the same as all the other uniforms on the bridge.
NeBan found himself thinking that perhaps these humans were being too
subtle. He couldn't tell what anyone's rank was on that ship.
"I am Captain Kevin T. Mitchell of the Federation starship Endeavor. We
are on a peaceful mission of exploration. We seek open and friendly
contact." The human said.
Evidently captain was some sort of rank. This was obviously a watch
officer trying to grab some glory or opportunity for himself before his
noble commander arrived on the bridge. "I don't speak to underlings,
Captain. Please call your commanding noble to the bridge and tell him that
his equal wishes to speak with him."
What was that about the Federation? NeBan tried to look calm and bored
while his brain raced for the information.
"I'm sorry Viscount, but I'm the senior officer on this ship. I am a fully
authorized diplomatic representative of the United Federation of Planets."
Mitchell said slowly.
NeBan was quiet for a few moments. The commander of the ship wearing a
uniform just like any engineer or janitor? NeBan remembered a history lesson
from long ago when drugs, guns and lovers to abuse were his primary focus.
Was it the Democratic fallacy? Yes. How could anyone look at the differences
between people and assert that all people were created equal? It was
patently false. NeBan wasn't surprised that the humans had fallen for it.
They were downtrodden. The underclass always liked to blame their own
inadequacies on the ruling class rather than admit that the fault lay with
themselves. There were always some people on the bottom of society and many
fewer at the top. This was the Natural Order and anyone with eyes could see
it.
Now the deluded humans would fill a few Greens with their sad ideas.
Nothing too serious unless they tried to infiltrate Orion Society. Then they
would be found out and exterminated. That, too was the natural order.
"Where is this Federation of yours and what are you doing here?" NeBan
asked. He kept his tone neutral and offhand. It wouldn't do for an Orion
Noble to be impressed by a commoner, even one in a big starship.
Mitchell gauged the situation carefully. Did he have anything to loose by
being
honest? He didn't think things could get much worse.
"We came through a wormhole that wanders through this area. Do you know
anything about it?" Mitchell said.
"Ah, the Vortex. I pay little attention to such things." NeBan lied. The
Vortex led to the Klingon Empire on it's other side. If this monster ship
came through the Vortex then it was from Klingon space. No Klingon ship had
ever made the trip back through the Vortex. Nor had any Orion ship to
NeBan's knowledge. Warp drives repelled the mouth of the Vortex. The effect
was damaging to the ships that fell through. The crippled ships were easy
pickings for Orion patrol vessels and a prime business opportunity for them.
Even if the monster ship could fight off the Orion cruisers, it had some
very large problems. NeBan would be perfectly willing to help if there was
enough in it for him.
"Our Federation is a peaceful group of planets that band together for
mutual trade and protection. If you could help us, I'm certain that my
government would be very grateful." Mitchell said. He had never dealt with
Orion nobles before, but understood that there were certain similarities to
the Ferengi thought process.
"How grateful could they possibly be from three thousand light years
away?" NeBan scoffed. Then the human would tell him of the great deal of
help that even a long distance alliance could mean. Possible trade and
technical assistance and etceteras. It was a routine negotiation. NeBan
wondered if the hidden weapons and shields of the monster ship would make it
worth it?
"We have some information that might help you understand our government
and society a little more." Mitchell said. He signaled Durango to start
downloading the public relations packet that the Endeavor carried. It was
filled with truthful information, but was carefully screened to present a
positive view of the Federation and hold little of military value.
NeBan waved his hand distractedly. The information his ship was receiving
promised to be interesting and potentially useful, but only if carefully
applied. NeBan could never admit that he actually read anything or found
anything outside of the Natural Order of Orion Society interesting or his
reputation would be damaged. This meant that he would have junior officers
read it, and wait to read it himself until he retired in privacy to his
quarters.
"Yes, well. How does this concern me?" NeBan said in well practiced
boredom.
"We have some pretty advanced science and medical techniques." Mitchell
said. "It is our policy to share them freely with friendly races that we
meet." He carefully spun the statement to imply a quid pro quo when
ethically there was none. The Federation did offer to share science and
medical databases with new races.
"Hmm, science," NeBan breezed. "That's for my staff again. I really don't
deal well with all the numbers." His eyes glinted. He could take ruthless
advantage of advanced data, if it was truly superior to Orion techniques.
The Orion Empire wasn't great for scientific research now, but over the
course of centuries they had begged, borrowed, traded and stolen a healthy
database of science and technical data. "Perhaps you could send a sample to
let my staff know if they should bother. If your great science runs true to
form, we have duplicates in our historical archives, you know."
"I'll get some one on that." Mitchell said gravely. He knew that he might
have a sale. He might be able to use the advanced data aboard the Endeavor
to purchase free passage, a treaty and the right to chase the wormhole
around this Empire. They might get home in less than half a decade after
all.
Miriah Katasai stepped out of the turbo lift onto the bridge. "Our new
guests are as settled as they're going to get for now." She reported to
Mitchell.
NeBan rose half out of his chair. "What in the name of the Vortex is
that!?"
Mitchell looked confused. "That's my Executive Officer Miriah Katasai.
She's half Klingon. You may have encountered members of her race. The
wormhole is in their space on the other side."
"Half Klingon and what else?" NeBan demanded. He thought he could tell. He
was on his feet in a very aggressive stance. His crew would have been
amazed, except that they were staring in horror at Miriah, too.
Mitchell looked at Miriah, measuringly. She was a good officer, a talented
starship administrator. Her race had been a road block for most of her
career. To admit her origin might damage negotiations with the supercilious
Orions. Mitchell decided. The Federation was an open society and the Great
Orion Empire would just have to deal with it. "She is half Klingon and half
Green Orion." He said.
NeBan stared in shock. "What kind of people are you?" He hissed.
Mitchell could see hatred and anger flashing on the faces of the Orion
crew. It seemed far out of proportion. "The Federation doesn't believe in
slavery, Viscount. We have found Green Orions to be valuable and capable
citizens of our Federation."
"And so you create genetic monsters from them to crew your ships!?" NeBan
was horrified at the thought.
"Genetic monsters?" Mitchell was confused again.
"I will not tolerate this offense against the Natural Order, Captain!
Destroy that!" He pointed at Miriah, "Or we'll attack you and do it
ourselves!"
"Red alert." Mitchell said to Watabe. He turned back to the main screen.
"Viscount, Commander Katasai is valuable and honored member of my crew. I
won't have you dictating the composition of my crew."
"That is an abomination. If you wish to return to your home or find a safe
harbor, then you'll destroy it now. If not, then you and your monster ship
will be hunted down and destroyed." All thoughts of profit and increased
status had disappeared from NeBan's mind. He was too upset by seeing the
artificial mixture of Klingon and Green Orion to deal with such concerns.
Genetic engineering was a major taboo in Orion culture. Using Green Orions
as subjects for genetic engineering was even worse. NeBan was not certain
why, but the taboo was so firmly ingrained that he would cheerfully kill and
eat his own mother rather than tolerate a genetically modified Green Orion.
His crew and the Golden Orions on the other ships in the formation felt the
same way. These dangerous maniacs had to be destroyed before their perverse
experiments spread.
"I'm sorry, Viscount. No." Mitchell said.
"So be it!" NeBan said. He cut the channel. He quickly reviewed his
available
resources. His own raider, the Belkon, the Gilbron and the lightly armed
Arno. "Bring all ships to alert and withdraw along course 300 mark 17."
NeBan said.
"Sir, we withdraw?" His executive officer said.
"Idiot! Do you want to attempt a frontal assault into unknown guns and
shields?" NeBan raged. "We will harass them and harry them until more ships
arrive. Then we will know more about their weapons and capabilities."
"Yes, Sire."
-*-
"The Orion ships are withdrawing." Watabe reported.
"That's good, isn't it?" Durango asked.
"No." Watabe said. "If it were me, I'd shadow us and try to whittle us
down until reinforcements arrive."
"Hmm." Mitchell thought. "What would you suggest?"
"They will send in the other ship, the Gilbron. I'd destroy him right off
the bat, as quickly as possible. That might make the other ships hesitate.
If they wait too long we might be able to slip away." Watabe said.
"And you, Commander?" Mitchell asked Miriah.
Miriah spoke thoughtfully. "I'd rather avoid a fight right now. We have no
back up, and the Endeavor is damaged. If they get the initiative, too, then
it's only a matter of time until they destroy us."
Mitchell turned it over in his mind. He was beginning to hate this new
section of space, badly. "Helm, set course deeper into the Orion Arm. Make a
drunken stagger variation on the course. We'll implement it when we're free
of their sensors. Engage at maximum warp."
"Aye sir." Brekka Di, the Bajoran officer turned the big Federation around
and entered the coordinates. The Endeavor streaked away from the Orions.
"If the Gilbron attacks, we will disable it aggressively." Mitchell said.
"Until then, we run."
-*-
The Endeavor ran for two days. The Orion ships let her get a good distance
ahead, and then matched course and speed. They were shadowing the Endeavor.
Inside the Endeavor the Green Orions were settling in. Some of the medical
and science crew people were trying to help them adjust to the culture of
the ship. This was not an easy or smooth process.
Starship crew people were not paid in any sort of cash money. The concept
was almost useless in modern society. The people who manned starships for
the Federation were given allowances of material and energy to use in
replicators. Delicate computer chips embedded in plastic sometimes
represented these credits. A replicated credit chip would be useless junk
and easily identifiable to a scan.
Some people also liked Ferengi Gold-Pressed-Latinum. It was also hard to
replicate. It had the advantages of being accepted nearly everywhere and
being extremely hard to trace.
On a starship these concerns were distant and unimportant. To the Green
Orions, the replicators of the Endeavor seemed free. Several of them spent
months worth of energy and material covering themselves in finery worthy of
the wealthiest Orion Noble.
Many of them discovered the lounge at the forward end of the Endeavor's
saucer. The crew found Green Orions hanging around the lounge making it look
like a sleazy dive. Some of the Greens tried to go into "business" for
themselves, making personal liaisons in exchange for goods and favors.
Telos enjoyed using her appeal to manipulate the emotions of the naive
humans on the ship. She had power and used it ruthlessly.
During all of this, Alpha was in heaven. She only used her replicator for
basic clothing and food. She was too busy reading. Her quarters held a
computer terminal that translated everything into a bizarre dialect of
Orion. After some delicate questioning, she discovered that the information
in the computer was mostly free. Alpha was soon reading anything she could
reach happily. The more she read the more convinced she was that she was
truly free, now.
-*-
Kevas Quatros was the Chief counselor on the USS Endeavor. He had his
hands full with the Green Orions. His half Betazoid empathy gave him an
intuitive understanding of just how the new people were adjusting to
shipboard life. His Klingon side gave him an urge to be protective of his
shipmates. Kevas had to control himself ruthlessly around the Green people.
He had practice dealing with their pheromones and so that wasn't his
problem. He kept getting angry with them. That would be a big problem. As a
Counselor and a mental health professional, Kevas had to keep a discrete
distance. He had to stay as objective as possible to help these people.
He stomped back to the quarters he shared with his lover on the Endeavor.
As the door slid open to admit him, he could feel depression and tension in
the room. He locked the door and began to strip out of his uniform.
Miriah had her back to him. She was doing the Mok'Bara discipline slowly,
with great concentration. Kevas noticed again that her form was very
graceful. For her, Mok'Bara was something of a dance as well as a martial
arts form.
Kevas changed into casual clothing and joined her in her forms. He wasn't
as good at the martial arts discipline as she was, but he was getting
better.
In time, the flow of the form came to its end. Miriah turned towards
Kevas. "Hello."
Kevas looked at her. Physically she betrayed no hint of her inner turmoil.
Perhaps she didn't want to discuss it? Then she should not have a
relationship with an empath.
"Tell me." He said.
"The Orions." She said. Her voice was mild, but her emotions were hurt.
"What about them?" Kevas said. It was almost reflex.
"They...They don't like me very much." Miriah said, off handedly.
Kevas saw that the breezy tone covered sharp pain. "This makes you very
unhappy."
Miriah took a deep breath. "Yes, damn it, it does."
"Tell me about it." Kevas said.
"You're off duty now. Don't be the Counselor at me." Miriah said.
"I am not." Kevas said quietly. "I am being Miriah's lover. Your happiness
is important to me. I can tell when you're unhappy. I will use every tool
and weapon at my disposal to make you happy."
"So you're asking me about the Orions?" Miriah asked. "That's not a
subject that brings happiness."
"Not the Orions. I'm asking for your feelings about the situation. No one
would be surprised if you were suffering a certain amount of stress." Kevas
pointed out.
"True. There is stress, but I'm fine." Miriah put up a good face.
"You are uncomfortable talking about it. If you don't wish to speak to me,
I will recommend another Counselor." Kevas said.
"No. There is no one else I'd rather talk to, but.." Miriah waved her
hands uncertainly.
"What is it?" Kevas probed.
"Well, God Damn it!" Miriah had to fight to get it out. "I'm tired of
always being the freak! I'm tired of always being the outsider, the weirdo,
the alien!"
"Is that what it is?" Kevas prompted again.
Miriah grabbed the table and the surface began to deform in her grip. Her
face was contorted in a grimace. "Starfleet, the Klingon Empire, the Orions,
everywhere in the Galaxy I'm the one they point at and say what are you?"
The table made complaining noises. "They have less in common with Captain
Mitchell than me, and yet they were perfectly willing to negotiate with him.
They were right in the middle of the discussion when I arrived on the bridge
and then it's 'Kill the Abomination'!"
Miriah yanked the table off the wall. The pins gave with a popping noise.
"They don't even know me! They know nothing about me! It's all the color of
my skin or the ridges on my head. They want me dead here, they either want
me dead or gone on Q'onos. I hear jokes and racial slurs even in Starfleet
where they train them to meet new kinds of people every day!" Miriah threw
the table across the room with a crash. "Even at home I'm a little odd. The
only one of my kind! Sometimes I hate it!"
Kevas looked at her. "I don't believe that."
Miriah heaved a big breath. "No. I don't hate being me, it's just that I
hate always being the different one."
"You're not alone in this." Kevas said. "Remember that."
Miriah stopped and looked into the eyes of her lover. Kevas could see the
realization cross her face and her mind. "No, I'm not, am I?"
"No. Even in getting angry about it, you're not alone." Kevas said.
Miriah looked at the ruins of the table. "Oh, hell." She went over and
began to pick it up.
"Don't you think that you have enough pressure on you without trying to be
a Vulcan, too?" Kevas said.
Miriah stopped. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't want to discuss your anger with me. You didn't want to admit
to it or own it." Kevas said.
Miriah looked at the ruins of the table. "Well, I don't like getting
angry. It's destructive and unprofessional."
"Yes, and it's Klingon." Kevas said.
Miriah shook her head. "I don't have to loose control to prove that I'm
Klingon."
"No but perhaps you could channel your emotions into more acceptable
outlets." Kevas said.
"Like what?" Miriah asked.
"Well," Kevas grinned showing his teeth, "For a start, let's go down to
the Holodeck and kill things. We don't have to control ourselves there."
Miriah pictured the jungle and the smells and the hand-to-hand combat with
the monsters that the holodeck could conjure up. She pictured seeing Kevas
streaked with sweat and blood and breathing deeply. It wasn't anger that
motivated her. "Sounds good." She grinned too.
-*-
"Yes, Sire." Denkos grinned an insincere grin. The Klingons might relish
the honor of being the first to attack the enemy, but he didn't.
"Don't waste your ship or your people too prematurely, Denkos." NeBan
said. "We'll need every ship and gun when the time comes to destroy the
aliens. You are to get information about their weapons and shields."
"I'm just testing them, then?" Denkos said.
NeBan restrained a frustrated sigh. "Yes, Denkos. You're to test them."
"Okay. We're on it, Sire." Denkos said. He cut the channel. He wanted to
call the royal cousin names but carefully restrained himself. He didn't know
what spies NeBan might have in his crew. "Make ready for battle." Denkos
said.
The crew of the Gilbron moved to their duty stations.
"Sire, I am having a problem setting the weapons. I can't guess the range
at which we will have to turn aside, and so I can't tune the weapons for the
best effect at range." The weapons officer said.
"Set your weapons for close range." Denkos said.
"Sire, a close range attack against a ship with unknown weapons and
shields?" The weapons officer said, shocked.
"Look at that monster." Denkos said, pointing at the Endeavor. "At that
size, she won't be able to maneuver as well as we can."
"That seems reasonable," The weapons officer said.
"Then we will use this to our advantage. We'll make high speed slashing
attacks and then withdraw when we know more." Denkos stated.
"Yes, Sire." The weapons officer grinned. He wasn't going to die today
after all.
-*-
The red alert klaxon sounded. The Endeavor swung around hard. Miriah and
Kevas bolted from the holodeck. They were both covered in holo-gore and
their casual off-duty clothes were ripped and tattered from the earnest
attacks of the creatures in the Klingon calisthenics program. They both
dropped large hand weapons inside the holodeck. No point in taking them
along.
Miriah loped along the deck happily. Perhaps her ship was under attack,
lost in a distant section of space but Miriah felt as though she could take
on the whole galaxy. Kevas was right, maybe she should let go a little more.
-*-
"Here he comes." Watabe said.
"Hard to Starboard, Z axis minus twelve." Mitchell ordered. The Endeavor
stopped her hard turn in one direction and began to roll in the other.
The ship shuddered. "Light hit on number four shield." Watabe reported.
Miriah walked out onto the bridge. She moved over to the Captain.
"What's his range?" Mitchell was waiting until the Orion ship was close
enough to cripple with a phaser blast.
"He's veered off. He's being cautious." Watabe reported.
"Captain, I recommend that we set phasers at half power and plink at him
until he is lured in close." Miriah said. She could almost smell the Golden
Orions in the other ship.
Mitchell looked at her. She was covered in mock gore, he clothes were
ripped up and she was shining with a layer of sweat. "Do it. I hope we
didn't interrupt anything important, Miriah."
She grinned at him. "Nothing that can't be taken care of later, Sir."
Watabe fired the phasers at reduced power.
-*-
Several passes later the Gilbron was singed but not seriously damaged.
Denkos was exultant. Not at all the noble type he was leaning forward in his
command chair, directing the battle.
"Bring us to 127 mark 43. Line us up for another pass.
"Aye, Sir!" The Orion ship swept around and began to streak towards the
big Federation ship.
"I think another strike right here might breach their shields for good."
Denkos said.
"Yes, Sir!" The weapons officer chortled.
"Wait until we are at point blank range." Denkos grinned ferally. "We have
them now."
-*-
The Gilbron swept up to the Endeavor in a graceful roll. Miriah said
"Bridge to Engineering. Channel full power through the phasers."
Mitchell blinked. Miriah was serious about taking the Orion out. He let
the order stand. He calculated the optimal range for the Orion's disruptors
and said "Fire," half a second before the Orion arrived there.
The phasers lashed out and pierced the Gilbron. The Orion ship's shields
flared and collapsed. A huge hole appeared in the middle of the Gilbron and
whole sections were engulfed in plasma. All power failed and the Orion ship
dropped out of warp.
"Arm photon torpedoes." Miriah said. The prey was helpless. It was time to
deliver the killing strike.
"Belay that." Mitchell said.
Miriah looked at him accusingly. He stared at her. Miriah realized what
she was about to order.
"Leave him crippled. No more people die than absolutely necessary and the
other ships have to stop and help the survivors." Mitchell explained.
"Yes, Sir." Miriah said thoughtfully.
-*-
"Well, now we know." NeBan said. He watched the Gilbron tumble out of
control away from the monster ship.
"Analysis?" He asked his weapons officer.
"We'll need four or five ship for a clean victory, Sire. We might take
them with three, but we'd take heavy losses." The weapons officer reported.
"When will we have five ships?" NeBan asked. He'd already put out a
renewed call for reinforcements.
"It would be some time. We'll have four before they reach Apolian space."
The weapons officer reported.
"We'll have to find a way to delay them."
"There are still life signs on the Gilbron, Sire."
"Detail the Arno to rescue them and try to get the ship back into some
working order." NeBan didn't think that Denkos was worth the problem, but it
would be nice to have extra guns when assaulting that monster. "Until then,
we'll keep shadowing."
-*-
Miriah walked into the main lounge. She was distracted, her mind a million
miles away. It felt good to let go and let her Klingon side out, but it also
worried her. Was she really the type of person to massacre a crippled ship
on impulse? She didn't like the feeling.
There was fairly loud music playing in the lounge. Several Green Orions
were dancing. Many more were draped in seats or on willing Starfleet
Officers.
Miriah stepped up to the bar and ordered her usual, a fruit juice. The
lounge served alcoholic beverages, made from synthehol. Synthehol was an
alcohol substitute. The effects could be thrown off with a good effort of
will. Some people found the taste unacceptable. Miriah just found it
pointless. As soon as she ever noticed any effect from synthehol, it
disappeared. She used to blame it on her odd mixed bio-chemistry, but now
she had a new cause to examine. Was she actually in touch with her Klingon
side, or did she constantly repress herself? Miriah didn't even doubt that
she had repressed things from her Orion side. She never even danced except
in private.
She regretted her occasional outbursts of temper. Her emotions were over
powering sometimes. How much of Miriah was she repressing?
"Does the Captain's piece dance?" Telos asked.
Miriah looked at her coldly.
"Oooh." Telos grinned "The Captain's Piece doesn't like me. Perhaps the
Captain is now looking at a real woman."
"You must be joking." Miriah said.
"Yes, that's it. Little Commander Green Thing is close to losing her cushy
ride. What's matter? Can't keep the crew sniffing after you with real Greens
on board?" Telos laughed
"Get lost." Miriah turned away.
"Don't turn away from me, bitch." Telos snarled. "Unless you want a knife
in your back."
Miriah whirled back around to find Telos holding a wicked blade into her
face. She could feel her lips pull back into a snarl. Miriah could see other
crew men leaping up to her defense. The idea quickly occurred to her that
arresting Telos wouldn't solve anything. Telos would challenge her again as
soon as she was free. It was just that, a status challenge. If Miriah could
put Telos in
her place now, then she would save many more problems later.
"No!" She barked at the crewmen coming to her rescue. "Let me!"
A circle of Starfleet uniforms and Greens formed around them.
"No one interfere! That's an order!" Miriah snarled.
"Now you'll sing through two mouths, bitch." Telos said.
-*-
Alpha's door chimed. Someone wanted in, but the door wouldn't let them in
until Alpha said it was all right. Alpha grinned at that, enjoying her sense
of privacy. It was new to her.
The door chimed again. "Come in." Alpha called.
The door slid open to reveal one of the younger Green Women. "Mother!
Telos has challenged the mutant in the lounge!"
"Oh, Telos, you fool!" Alpha said. She grabbed her replicated knife and
ran out of her quarters, towards the lounge.
"How could this have happened?" Alpha thought. The answer quickly came to
her. She had been so busy reading everything she could that she hadn't put
any time in keeping her people in line. Now more than ever they needed
someone to look to for guidance. Alpha had abdicated her responsibility.
-*-
Miriah was stunned by the ferocity of Telos' attack. It was fast and
graceful. She countered and went into the proper Mok'Bara form. Just when it
looked like Telos was done for she dodged away. Miriah adjusted her tactics.
Telos was faster but probably not a strong as she. Miriah shuffled in at an
oblique angle and attacked using her strength.
Telos whipped around quickly and cut Miriah along her arms. Miriah quickly
counter attacked and belted Telos to the floor. Telos regained her feet, and
warded off Miriah's follow up attack.
The two women circled each other. Telos looked angry and desperate. Miriah
felt like shouting. Something inside her bubbled. She realized that she was
enjoying the fight, even if it wasn't the best idea ever.
Telos launched another attack. Miriah could see where her dancer's grace
lent itself to her attack. Miriah took the attack on her arm and did a
powerful sweep. Telos grunted and fell down. She rolled out, hobbling.
Miriah's arms felt heavy and unresponsive. She knew that it was going to
hurt badly, later.
Miriah feinted and Telos tried to fend her off with the knife. Miriah
grabbed the hand holding the knife. Telos fell backwards, dragging Miriah
down on top of her. Miriah twisted the knife out of Telos hand with a
popping noise. Telos screamed and kicked Miriah viciously in the gut. Miriah
held on and levered the knife under Telos' throat.
"Surrender, or I'll kill you!" She snarled.
Telos glared with hatred, but relaxed, surrendering.
Miriah levered herself up off her opponent. She stood facing the Greens.
"Any more of this, and I'll have you stunned and thrown in the brig! Am I
clear!?" Miriah found herself shouting.
The Greens, male and female nodded soberly. Miriah was now the second
ranking female among them.
-*-
Captain Mitchell found Miriah in sick bay getting her knife wounds healed.
"Report, Commander." He said.
"I had to discuss matters of ship's discipline with one of the Green Orion
women." Miriah said.
"By having a knife fight in the ship's lounge?" He asked.
"She had the knife." Miriah said.
Mitchell gave her an "Oh, come on." look.
"It was a matter of relative status." Miriah explained. "They wouldn't
believe in my authority unless I demonstrated it."
"Are you all right, Miriah?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Um, over the last couple of hours you've been, well, less restrained."
Mitchell said.
"Not my usual professional self?" Miriah prompted.
"Exactly."
"Captain, I'm a Klingon. I'm also an Orion. I don't have a clear idea what
that means. I've been concentrating so hard on being the perfect Starfleet
Officer that I've forgotten what being Miriah means." Miriah said.
"Okay. How far do you think that process will take you? Are you going to
start having honor duels and killing people?" Mitchell asked.
Miriah had been wrestling with that question. "Well, I didn't kill Telos,
and I was enjoying myself quite a bit."
"What does that mean?" Mitchell asked.
"I don't know." Miriah said. "Perhaps I should leave the personal
exploration for later."
Mitchell shook his head. "That wouldn't work now and you know it. The
genie's out of the bottle. If you try to stuff yourself now, you'll just
make yourself unhappy."
Miriah smiled. It was nice to have an understanding Captain.
"I have to remind you that you're still a command level officer on a
Federation Starship, and you're still bound by the Starfleet Code, Okay?"
Mitchell said. "Try to bear that in mind."
"Yes, Captain."
"Knife fights in the lounge..." Mitchell walked away shaking his head.
"Bet the crew reports are on time from now on..."
Dr. Matae finished treating Miriah's wound. "Would you like me to leave
the scars?"
Miriah looked at Dr. Matae curiously. She'd never asked that before. "No,
why?"
"That is what Klingons do, isn't it?" The Vulcan physician asked.
"Hmmm." Miriah thought. "No. Not today."
-*-
Alpha caught up with Miriah on her way back her quarters. "Commander, I
must apologize."
"For what?" Miriah asked.
"Telos."
"She's an adult. She made her own choices." Miriah said.
"Keeping order among the Greens is the Alpha's job. Was I not elected to
the position?"
Miriah smirked. "You sure were. What have you been doing with yourself? I
haven't seen you in the lounge very often."
Alpha blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor. "I lost control of
myself." She admitted .
"On what?"
"I was reading..." Alpha said.
Miriah burst out laughing. "Oh is that all?"
"But..." Alpha was stunned.
"I couldn't think of a better excuse." Miriah said. "You like reading,
huh?"
Alpha grinned ruefully. "The worst thing that a slave can have is
knowledge. What we learned was always carefully censored. I love all the
things I can find in your computers. I feel like my brain has grown three
times as large since I've arrived here."
Miriah smiled. "That's wonderful. That's what we're all out here for."
"Really? I don't understand." Alpha said.
"Learning new things. We travel around in the Endeavor to places we have
never been, we explore them. We meet new people, we talk to them." Miriah
said.
"Sounds like fun." Alpha said dreamily. Had she ever heard of a better way
to live? She didn't think so.
"Not always. We're lost and we can't find our way home. The Orions want to
kill us. We don't know where we can turn for a safe harbor." Miriah said.
This didn't sound great to Alpha, but she found it hard to be pessimistic.
"Then we will explore until we find one. What else is your Endeavor for?"
"Good point." Miriah said.
-*-
The Orion fleet slowly drew together. It was taking too long. NeBan waited
impatiently. If the fleet got together as it looked like it would, then the
battle for the monster ship would take place right on the Apolian border.
NeBan had no doubts about how the Apolians would feel about that.
He sent messages urging the other patrol vessels to hurry, and pictures of
the genetic abomination to give them impetus. The other ships saw the prize
awaiting them in the big ship and them saw the creatures that inhabited it.
NeBan was pleased at the response.
-*-
"There seems to be a border of some type ahead of us." Watabe reported.
"How can you tell?" Miriah asked.
"We're picking up weak scans from buoys arranged in a line roughly across
our path. If I had to guess, I'd say that they were warning and marker buoys
set to alert some one if the Great Orion Empire tried to move ship into
their area." Watabe said.
"Sounds reasonable to me." Mitchell said. "What does our tactical picture
look like?"
"Not good. Long range scans detect four more Orion ships heading our way.
They recently went from warp seven to warp eight or more. They'll catch us
somewhere in the vicinity of the border. If there are more than two
attacking us, then we'll be damaged. Three or four and we'll lose." Watabe
said.
"Is there anything we can do?" Durango asked.
"If we can get better efficiency out of the engines, that will change the
odds." Watabe pointed out.
Miriah shook her head. "Genevieve says that this is the best she can do. I
don't doubt it. We're lucky we didn't suffer a warp core breach in the
wormhole."
"Okay, then. Find me some terrain. Something to take advantage of. In open
space, we're a big target but if there's something to hide behind..."
"Noted." Mitchell said. "Paul, find Lt. Watabe some terrain."
"Aye, Sir." Durango said.
-*-
Zorn walked into the lounge to find a much quieter place than before. He
took careful notice of the position and body language of each person in the
room. None posed a threat. The only people who really posed a physical
threat were the Green Orion Gladiators and a very few of the Security
people. This didn't worry Zorn unduly. If some one threatened him, he would
simply kill them. It didn't matter how well they knew how to fight. Zorn
didn't "fight with" anyone. If there was a threat he simply killed it.
No one looked interested in bothering Zorn. Zorn relaxed a certain amount.
It was good to find a place where he wasn't bothered a lot, but he never let
his guard down. That would be foolish.
Zorn knew that even the slowest and weakest of the people on the new ship
could exterminate him from a distance with a phaser. His skill at killing
would be of no avail then.
As he walked among the chatting, distracted people, he caught sight of his
target, Alpha. She was pretty, but looked very old to a person used to
watching body language minutely. Her smell was especially musky to him. As
he saw her he felt a surge of unexpected sensation. It was emotion. He
didn't know what to do with it. Zorn's emotions had been an early casualty
of his upbringing.
A small secret part of him looked at Alpha and cried out for the mother he
had never known. Could he someday let down his guard and not be the stone
cold killing machine? In his secret heart Zorn fervently hoped so. He still
didn't trust the idea, that would be foolish.
Assailed by these strange thoughts, Zorn did what he always did. He
focused on what he was doing with maniacal intensity. He walked up to Alpha
and with a few hand gestures summoned her from the lounge.
Alpha followed him out of the lounge, down the corridor and into a storage
room designed to hold extra furniture and fittings for the lounge.
Zorn checked to see that their privacy was total and then he took off his
shirt and showed Alpha.
Alpha looked at the smooth unbroken skin of the gladiator. The Vulcan lady
was as good as her word. She had repaired the damage done to Zorn.
"Inside too?" Alpha asked, grinning.
Zorn nodded. The Vulcan lady showed him the scans of his insides. He knew
very well what the insides of an Orion body looked like. It was a miracle of
modern medicine that took away the physical signs.
"Wonderful!" Alpha cried happily. She hugged Zorn tightly. His road back
had begun. It would probably take his whole life to accomplish, but the
first steps were beginning.
Zorn hugged Alpha back like he was drowning. Tears flowed from his eyes.
Zorn didn't know how to be happy or sad, so he just held on for a while.
-*-
The Endeavor rocked as the Orion ship made another fast pass. Phaser and
disruptor beams were exchanged, inconclusively.
"How long until we reach the system?" Miriah asked.
"One hour, Sir!" Brekka Di answered. This was more the style of fighting
she was used to. Out numbered, no back up, and possibly out gunned. She
found that her nostalgia for the Bajoran resistance was badly misplaced.
Brekka Di now greatly preferred the Federation style of fighting, which
involved fleets of starships and massive firepower. The Federation felt that
if there was to be a fight, then it wanted it to be quick and grossly one
sided in the Federation's favor. Brekka Di found herself agreeing avidly.
"We won't make it at this rate." Miriah said quietly to Mitchell.
"Watabe's doing the best he can." Mitchell said. "If you can help, then do
so but don't joggle his elbow."
"Aye, Sir." Miriah got up and went an unused science station on the
Bridge. She turned it on and called up the tactical display. "Transfer
photon torpedo control to my station."
Watabe didn't even look up. "Aye, Sir. Transferring. I suggest one or two
torpedoes at a time. Keep them away."
The screen came to life showing Miriah how many torpedoes she had and the
relative position of the enemy ships. "Ready, Captain." She called.
Mitchell nodded "Shoot to cripple, Commander. Fire at will."
"Aye, Sir." Miriah adjusted her targeting.
-*-
An Orion ship swooped down on the Endeavor. It's captain was as blase and
unconcerned as NeBan pretended to be.
"Sire, there is an energy build up." His weapons officer reported.
"Type?" The Captain drawled.
"Perhaps an anti-matter missile."
"Evasive." The Captain waived off the report. "Continue the attack." NeBan
would have his prize, and He could spend several months at the Imperial Seat
enjoying real culture..
The weapons officer gulped nervously and keyed in the attack pattern.
-*-
The incoming attacker swooped and dodged like he knew what Miriah had in
mind.
"That one's yours, Commander." Watabe called.
"Got it." Miriah reported. She focused on the screen with intensity. Her
fingers flew over the control panel entering targeting data. Swoop, swoop,
dodge, swoop, swoop... Miriah fired a full spread of ten photon torpedoes at
him. The lights on the bridge of the Endeavor dimmed with the power demand.
-*-
The torpedoes streaked away from the ship and separated. They flew to a
certain distance and then curved back at the Orion ship.
"Aaa!" The Weapons officer cried. He keyed in a desperate turn, but the
torpedoes were moving much faster than the Orion ship could turn.
"Like fireworks..." The horrified noble commented.
The photon torpedoes surrounded the Orion ship and detonated. Each shock
wave hit from a different direction. The Orion ship tumbled like a leaf in a
storm.
-*-
Miriah turned to the stunned bridge crew. "Lieutenant, how's that look?"
She called to Durango.
The Science Officer turned to his sensors and read off the report. "His
shields are down. He's lost main power and his auxiliaries. Light
casualties." He turned to look at Miriah "Heavy structural damage. They have
little of no structural integrity left. No weapons, nothing. They aren't
going anywhere."
"Is their ship going to hang together?" Mitchell asked.
"If no one moves very suddenly ." Durango guessed. "New report, escape
pods are being fired from the Orion ship."
"Like that, Captain?" Miriah asked.
Mitchell gave Miriah a wide eyed look "Okay..."
"That's the way I like to see it." Brekka Di commented.
"The other ships are backing off, now, Captain. Miriah impressed them."
Watabe reported.
-*-
NeBan snarled. "Message to the Arno. Forget the survivors for now. Join
the attack. We've got to get them!" He wasn't even remotely bored or
unconcerned now.
"Sire? Are you certain?" His Weapons Officer asked.
"I will not let those monsters go!" NeBan raged. "We must hold them until
the other ships get here!"
"Yes, Sire." The Officer keyed the message in. "Sire! I have new contact
coming in."
"Identify!" NeBan was about to have a coronary event.
"It's from Apolian space. It's moving at extreme warp speed."
"Apol?" NeBan squeaked.
"It looks like him."
NeBan grimaced. "Break off the attack, and prepare to retreat."
-*-
"I've never seen an energy signature like that before." Durango said.
"It's coming in at Warp 9.89" Watabe said. "Is it an Orion?"
"I doubt it." Durango said. "I don't know what it is, but it doesn't look
like them."
"How soon until it gets here?" Mitchell asked.
"Three minutes." Watabe reported.
"Open hailing frequencies. Transmit linguacode friendship messages."
Mitchell ordered.
"Aye, Sir." Watabe responded.
"Captain, the Orions have seen the intruder." Miriah reported. "They're
breaking off."
"This could be good, and this could be bad. Let's be ready for anything."
Mitchell said.
-*-
Three minutes later a glowing globe three hundred meters streaked into the
area. It came to within five thousand kilometers of the Endeavor and then
suddenly shrank, leaving a starship. The ship was a mix of primitive and
modern. It was a big metal rectangular shaped box with Klingon style
engines, weapons and shields mounted on it. The starship began to pursue the
retreating Orions, firing.
The glowing globe was now two meters wide. It made a beeline for the
Federation ship moving at incredible speed. A few meters away from the
Endeavor's hull it vanished utterly.
-*-
"Where did it go?" Mitchell yelled. "Find it!"
"Scanning, Sir. No signs." Durango reported.
"All hands, brace for collision!" Miriah called.
"No response to our hails, Sir." Watabe reported.
A figure materialized on the bridge in a flash of light. A humanoid
figure, over six feet tall and muscular, with bumps on his forehead and a
bifurcated ridge down either side of his nose. His eyes were glowing. He
wore a superior smile.
"I answer your hails now." He said. "I am the god Apol. You are in my
space."
-To Be Continued-
--
Jay P Hailey ~Meow!~
MSNIM - jayphailey ;
AIM -jayphailey03;
ICQ - 37959005
HTTP://jayphailey.8m.com
"Truuuuust me... I have other things that are much, much better."--Amy