Star Trek: Infinite Frontier

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C_Miller
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Posts: 172

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier Feb 3, 2022 21:20:03 GMT ericthepilot and S2D2 / PugScribe like this

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Post by C_Miller on Feb 3, 2022 21:20:03 GMT

Hello all. After probably a good five years since I have made an attempt at a series here, I have decided to come back and start a new one. I have said this before and I have never been the most reliable writer on these sites. However, while I don’t want to claim that this is going to change, I do want to say that as of this post, I am sitting on three chapters and plan to have another one written before I post my first. I am hopeful that I can buck the trend.

I am choosing to come back with Star Trek. Star Trek is my first love. I have home movies of me singing the Star Trek: The Next Generation theme at 2 years old. All of my Christmas and Birthdays from the ages of 2 to 6 were dominated by Star Trek action figures and ships. When I was in Middle School, I got the Star Trek encyclopedia and studied it end to end like I was being tested on it. In 2002, when Star Trek: Nemesis came out, I won a Star Trek trivia contest at my local movie theater and as much as I hate that movie, I still have a Nemesis sweatshirt hanging in my closet as it was one of the few things I ever won as a kid.

I’ve been a part of so many fandoms since I was a kid. Marvel, DC, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Classic Rock, the Buffalo Bills, the New York Mets, but Star Trek is the only one that I consider to be foundational. Sometimes I go months or years without watching an episode, but I always come back and it’s there waiting like an old friend.

It was like that for me at the start of the pandemic. There were a lot of things that I wanted to do with my free time in lockdown, but a lot of my time was spent watching and re-watching old episodes of my favorite franchise. Not only did I find comfort in the repetition of it, there’s something about the future that Star Trek writes about that brings me a feeling of peace. It was in that year that I started developing this series.

Initially, I thought about doing a true fanfiction. Take a series and do a re-telling. I thought about doing a re-do of Star Trek: Voyager as it’s a series that I felt never really lived up to the premise. I thought about doing a JJ-style reboot of TNG, but I never really felt comfortable taking on that behemoth. I even thought of doing Pike driven Enterprise show until Alex Kurtzman cam and ruined that.

But then I realized that I could make Janeway a young Lieutenant Commander forced to take over command in the worst circumstances or I could make Jack Crusher Picard’s original First Officer or I could make Tasha Yar the long-term Chief of Security of the Enterprise and it didn’t really excite me. Not that there’s not some value there, but giving already existing characters new skins and playing with them didn’t compel me to write.

So, I created something new. The title will be called Star Trek: Infinite Frontier, in honor of the site, but also as an homage to Star Trek: New Frontier, one of the few non-canon Star Trek works to really excite me. The story is going to have an ensemble cast with 10-12 main characters and using the conventions of prose, a solid stock of recurring characters, but the main character we’re going to follow is named Captain Matthew Reyes of the U.S.S. Persephone. Captain Reyes is a veteran of the Dominion War who is trying to find his way in a changing Federation. I don’t want to go too much deeper, because there are some major events in the first several chapters that create a pretty major status quo shift, so you’ll have to read on.

A note on canon: the main canon that I am using is the canon established by the Original Series, the Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise. In order to tell the story that I want to tell, I have elected to ignore Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: Lower Decks and Star Trek: Prodigy. Elements of each show will occasionally appear as I see fit, but by in large, those shows will be considered non-canon and each individual element as I introduce it will be what makes it canon. Just because I seemingly make a reference to the show, does not mean the whole of the show is canon.

I will note that I enjoy all of these shows to varying degrees, but current Trek is an ongoing project and it will be difficult to fit my series into those worlds without violating canon that they will establish. It’s an untenable situation for me. Also, there are things I want to do with the Federation that will not jive with the storyline being told with Picard.

This got way more long winded than I wanted it to, so I’ll wrap it up. I hope you join me as I attempt to spin my own yarn about the end of the 24th Century as we continue to seek out new life and civilizations and boldly go where no one has gone before.

Thank you,

C_Miller

C_Miller
Second Tier

Posts: 172

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier Mar 3, 2022 3:53:54 GMT

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Post by C_Miller on Mar 3, 2022 3:53:54 GMT

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier Prologue
The Chimes at Midnight Pt. 1

Captain’s Log: Stardate: 73894.5

Morale is high as the crew of the U.S.S. Persephone closes out its first sixth months. The success of our mission on the third planet in the Lylat System helps a great deal. The gift of fruit of the Kalafas Tree; larger and sweeter than any strawberry produced by our replicators should sustain morale for at least another couple of weeks until the supply runs out. Hopefully Commander Tevvryn is able to program our replicators to produce something similar.

I remain impressed with the seventy-five individuals that Starfleet has assigned us, though this group is entirely commissioned officers as opposed to the cadet training crews that we have been used to. It stands to reason. Starfleet Academy enrolment numbers are down. This first-year class is the first class made up entirely of young people who were all born after the Dominion War. The Starfleet of old in not in their memories. But, I digress.

***

Captain Matthew Reyes, with a reserved gaze, shifted his attention to the different parts of the bridge. Conn, Tactical, Ops, Back to Tactical, Back to Ops where his First Officer and longtime confidant, Sorel was working. Taking in the whole bridge from the command chair without moving his head was not a demanding accomplishment. The U.S.S. Persephone was not a ship that was titanic in dimension. In fact, crew would habitually joke that the bridge could holler commands to Main Engineering if comms were down.

However, despite its less than impressive scope, it served as an adequate training vessel. The Persephone managed to house eighty crew members, albeit quite snuggly, and provided them sufficient space to master their specialties. More importantly, it provided a dozen of them the opportunity to develop the skills to command small teams and become Department Heads. That was the purpose of this Training Cruise; Captain Reyes’ second as Captain; to train the next generation of leaders.

The ship hit a slight bump, wrestling Captain Reyes from his thoughts. “Lieutenant Park? Report.”

The Conn Officer hit a couple of buttons on his station and turned to face the Captain. “Sorry, Sir. I noticed a slight subspacial disturbance and adjusted the pitch to compensate. I’ll try to make it smoother next time.”

Reyes raised his eyebrow. “A subspacial disturbance? Commander Sorel, is it anything worth looking into.”

“Unlikely, Captain. Even if it was, the Persephone’s sensors would be able to draw enough data and our scientific labs will be insufficient for processing what little data we do get. Add that to the reality of not having a Science Staff on board, it will just be a waste of our time.” Sorel noted without looking up from her station.

Captain Reyes sighed. He knew the answer. It wasn’t the first time that the Persephone had encountered an anomaly in the three years since he had been Captain and each time Sorel had to remind him that they didn’t have acceptable scientific capabilities to investigate this. They were Engineers, Medical Practitioners, Security Officers and Commanders. Science was on the back burner. It had been since the war. “Leave a homing beacon. Perhaps a Vulcan Science Vessel will pick it up.”

Sorel nodded and pressed a couple of buttons, which sent out the buoy greeting the crew with the familiar hiss. Reyes pressed the COMM relay on the Captain’s Chair’s right armrest. “Alison, will you have Doctor Bradbury and Commander Tevvryn come to my Ready Room as soon as they can?”

“Yes, sir,” responded Chief Alison Varner. Chief Varner was Captain Reyes’ Personal Assistant who had been with him for almost 11 years at this point.

Captain Reyes stood up. “Sorel, Fender. Join me. Lieutenant Park, you have the Conn.”

The two women joined him towards the aft of the bridge deck, to the doors that led to the Captain’s Ready Room. The door closed as Reyes watched Lieutenant Park take his seat in the Command Chair. He sat behind his desk as Commander Sorel and Lieutenant Commander Martina Fender sat at the two chairs in front of the desk.

Captain Reyes’ Ready Room was slight and spartan, like the rest of the ship with the dull grey and blue color scheme. However, he found ways to make it his own with adornments and trophies. On a table by the door, he had a pewter model of Starbase 487, which was his first command. He also had a credenza on the wall across from the door that had different ship models that he had served on such as the U.S.S. Enterprise-E, the U.S.S. Verity and the U.S.S. Paine. Those were typical of a Captain’s Ready Room. His favorite part was the wall across from the desk, which had a vintage black and white polka dotted Fender Stratocaster hanging on a wall next to a movie poster for Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo.

Captain Reyes sighed. “Remember when we used to be scientists?”

“You entered Starfleet to fight in the War. When was it ever a scientific outfit for you?” Sorel asked, eyeing him with her piercing green eyes. Sorel was a Romulan; the first Romulan to enter Starfleet, something she didn’t often reflect on. She was fortunate enough to be born without Romulan forehead ridges and she wore her hair over her ears. She was proud to be a Romulan, a fact that many humans took issue with.

She was right. She often was. “The Enterprise had a science station on the bridge. And plenty of science labs and plenty of Science labs”

“Now the Enterprise is in mothballs and the great scientific captains have retired to their vineyards.” Sorel noted dryly. Reyes opened his mouth to object, but was cut off by his Romulan First Officer. “Not that Jean-Luc Picard was not great in other ways… my family would not be alive if it were not for him, but it was a different time.”

What difference two decades makes, thought Reyes. The hiss of his Ready Room door pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up as Doctor Asa Bradbury and Lieutenant Commander Tevvryn stepped through the door. Reyes smirked slightly as the two walked in. They couldn’t be of greater contrast. Doctor Bradbury was a graceful, tall human man with tight, shaved hair and a styled goatee while Tevvryn was a short, stocky and gruff Tellarite with wild, long hair sprouting from seemingly infinite directions.

Tevvryn looked up at the Doctor. “One day, Doctor… One day we will get to sit in the chairs.”

“One of the many benefits of being a Bridge Officer,” quipped Lieutenant Commander Fender.

Doctor Bradbury shrugged as he leaned against the back wall of the space by the replicator. “If Matt wanted us to sit, he’d replicate more chairs. It’s only ever the four of us. Tea. Orange Pekoe. 1 tablespoon of honey, slice of lemon. So, crew eval?”

“What if I just wanted to see my friends?”

Doctor Bradbury rolled his eyes. “Was it a science thing?”

“It was a science thing,” confirmed Sorel with a smirk.

“That’s it. I’m converting Sick Bay to a goddamn Science Lab. Tev, start drawing up the plans. Devote any resources that you need to complete the project. Top priority.” Reyes ordered.

Doctor Bradbury snickered. “That might be the one thing that gets you down past Deck Four, though I’m pretty sure Starfleet wouldn’t be too happy with that remodel.”

Begrudgingly, Reyes slumped down in his chair. “Yeah… crew evals. Who you got?”

Lieutenant Commander Fender perked up and placed her hand on the Captain’s desk. “While Security was not needed on the Lylat mission, I was extremely impressed with Alex Baldwin and Danielle Rosen. I’m not sure if they’re quite ready for a Chief of Security role elsewhere, but I think they’re ready for a rotation. Especially Ensign Rosen.”

Reyes turned towards his Chief of Security. “Any particular reason?”

She nodded. “Evaluation in a time of crisis is easy for us, sir. Our instincts and training kick in immediately, but when things are going well, the best officers assert themselves then. The two of them were consistently checking in on our Engineering staff and making their presence known.”

Reyes nodded. “Alright. Let’s give Ensign Rosen a week as Assistant Chief of Security on the next rotation. Just keep an eye on her. She’s still pretty young. Sorel, what about you?”

“I’m going to sound like a broken data stream, but Lieutenant Park-Taifey is going to be a Captain one day and likely soon. Initially, I thought it was due to my admiration for his foster father, but he has what it takes. Again, the Lylat mission was not the hardest mission we’ll ever accomplish, but he responded to leadership admirably. He was… efficient.”

Reyes nodded again, this time facing his First Officer. “I agree. He’s talented and cool under pressure. I believe we should look into scheduling a Kobayashi Maru at some point in the near future. Doctor?”

Doctor Bradbury threw up an arm as he took a sip from his tea and quickly swallowed. “I don’t know, Matt. There are a couple of decent nurses, but all the Doctors they gave me… they don’t have it. They can set a broken leg and heal a phaser wound, but… I don’t know… everything else just doesn’t seem to compute with them. The diagnostic skill, treating the whole patient… it’s just not there. Something’s up at Starfleet Medical, but I’m thinking of recommending Keppler for entry. Not that nurses aren’t important, but she be a better M.D. than the current crop they have out there.”

“Well my Engineers are great.” Tevvryn boasted. “The entire away team on Lylat IV was remarkable. However, Lieutenant Lakhani continues to rise to the occasion. I’m thinking about resigning and letting her take over for the rest of this damned cruise.”

Reyes looked over at his Chief Engineer with a questioning look. “Isn’t she… a little… poor with interacting with her peers.”

“Hrumph. Most would say the same thing about me, Reyes. But if you can eat, sleep and breathe Warp Field Theory, they learn to put up with you. Look, considering where she came from… it’s a wonder she’s not worse off…”

Reyes nodded. “Understood.”

The door to the room beeped and all five Senior officers looked up. “Come,” said Reyes and in walked Chief Varner.

“Captain, we’re receiving a Priority One message from Admiral Taifey, sir. For your eyes only,” she breathed the final words with hushed intensity.

Sorel, Fender, Bradbury and Tevvryn instinctively stood up and exited the room. Varner placed a hand on Tevvryn’ shoulder as he exited to stop him. “Commander, there is also a communiqué from your mate if you’d like to take it in my office.”

Tevvryn raised his brow at her, but nodded. “Thank you, lass.”

“Sir, if you need me, I’ll be on the bridge.”

Captain Reyes shook her off and activated his terminal. A small monitor raised up from a slot on his desk with the seal of the Federation on the screen. He lightly tapped it and the face of Admiral Mark Taifey popped up. He looked friendly, but grim.

“Mark, we were actually just talking about your kid. You know you don’t need to make house calls for us to give him good marks. He’s doing well all on his own. Though, I could really use a couple of extra weeks of leave… the wife’s getting antsy.” Reyes smiled, attempting to break the tension.

Admiral Taifey shook his head. “Sorry, Matt. I wish I calling in a bribe was all this was about, but unfortunately, I have some very troubling news.”

Reyes shifted in his chair. “Go on.”

“As I’m sure you are at least tangentially aware of, discussions of Romulan relocation have been renewed in the Federation Council. and they have not been going well.”

Captain Reyes rolled his eyes and the looked out the window to the right of his desk. “I don’t know, Mark. It’s been nine years. Why can’t we just accept that the Romulans need our help more than they likely want to destroy us? I know the Romulans. I’ve worked with the Romulans. Sorel has been a friend of mine for over for 20 years. There isn’t a human living who has more experience with the Romulans than me besides maybe Admiral Picard. Trust me. They just want our help.”

Admiral Taifey sighed. “I’m not ready to give them my full trust and support, but I will defer mostly to you on this. Unfortunately, I’m not just calling with an update on that front.”

Reyes furled his brow. “What happened?”

“The discussions hit a standstill and the Federation President declared that if the Federation was going to take on a billion more refugees, all member worlds had to bare that burden. The delegate from Vulcan asked if that included Earth. The President hesitated slightly and that was all they needed to hear and negotiations ended quicker than they began.” Admiral Taifey carefully chose everyone that left his tongue, a hesitation that Reyes immediately picked up on.

“I don’t understand. They’ve been starting and stopping for nine years. Why did you reach out?” Reyes asked, nervous about the answer.

Admiral Taifey shook his head. “Matt… it’s over. The Vulcans pulled out and the Tellarites followed. They left the Federation.”

***

The Senior Staff did not respond when Captain Reyes gave them the news. Commander Sorel brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her pointed ears, features that she rarely showed off in public. Doctor Bradbury, sitting down this time, opened his mouth, hoping to say the right thing, but the words never came. Alison Varner adjusted her bun and stared intently at the PADD in her hands as she let a tear roll down her cheek. The Tellarite Chief Engineer, Tevvryn stood quietly in the back with Lieutenant Commander Fender consoling him, partially facing the corner, having told Reyes to share the news. The silence in the room was only broken by the huffing and puffing that came from Tev’s snout.

“What are our orders, sir?” Sorel broke the silence.

Captain Reyes shrugged. “If it were up to me, we’d set a course straight to Vulcan and try and set things straight. Or Nimbus III to check in on the Romulan Refugees. Or something goddamn useful.”

His heart dipped into his stomach. The Federation was 235 years old. In 2155, Earth, Vulcan, Andoria, and Tellar Prime formed the Coalition of Planets to provide mutual aid to the member worlds in a conflict. In 2161, the United Federation of Planets was formed from ashes of the Earth-Romulan War as a planetary nation-state based on the principals of liberty, equality and piece to facilitate the exchange of scientific discovery, exploration and mutual defense. The Vulcans and the Tellarites along with the Andorians and Humans were the four founders of the Federation. Their relationship was not always perfect, but it was at least consistent.

“Our orders are to return to Earth and unload our… non-Federation crew members,” Captain Reyes grimaced. “I about told the Admiral to go to Hell…”

Lieutenant Commander Fender stepped forward. “Go all the way to Earth just to drop off our Chief Engineer. Isn’t Tellar on the way? Don’t we have a choice here? Doesn’t Tev have a choice?”

Reyes nodded. “It’s not just Vulcan and Tellar. Rigel, Bajor, Barzan, and Kaminar all joined them, so Ensigns Karzi, Jahr, and Sur will also need to leave the ship. Plus, Starfleet likely will want to use this opportunity to regroup. I expect some of our students will be reassigned to fill core vacancies.

Fender moved forward again, slammed both her hands on the Captain’s desk to lean against it. “Captain, we have to do something. You’ve known Tev since the Academy. Why don’t you seem to care?”

Captain Reyes’ dark eyes darted to and opened his mouth to object, but was stopped by a small vocalization from the back of the room.

“Thank you, Martina, but Arla is ready to see Tellar again. We haven’t been home in so long.” Tevvryn spoke up in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Plus, my oldest just had twins… it will be agreeable to see them again.”

“Do the other affected crew members know?” Doctor Bradbury inquired.

Reyes shook his head. “I wanted to share the news with you first, though I imagine their families are going to start contacting them in the near future. I’ll let them know as soon as we’re through. Dismissed, Sorel. Chief Varner. Please stay behind.”

Doctor Bradbury, Tevvryn and Martina Fender exited the room quietly. Captain Reyes held his gaze as he watched Martina wrap Tevvryn into a tight embrace as the doors closed. “Suggestions?”

“My advice is to be as honest as possible,” Sorel replied quickly.

Reyes mindlessly chortled as he continued to hold his gaze on the door. “Never thought I’d ever hear the words ‘be honest’ out of a Romulan… Varner?”

Varner shook her head, even though Reyes was not looking at her. Having seemed to understand her gesture, despite not seeing it, Reyes stood up. He walked over to the shelf at the far side of the room and ran a finger over the saucer section of his golden Enterprise-E model. “When the going gets though, I sometimes wonder what the great Captains of Yore would do… John Archer, Erika Hernandez… Christopher Pike. Well, I am truly at a loss here.”

“These are the times the try men’s souls…” Sorel whispered to no one in particular.

“Thomas Paine. 1776.” Varner recited.

Sorel shook her head. “It was Romulan. I’m sure of it. Praetor Paedok or something like that.”

Varner shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think that’s right.”

Sorel shrugged as Captain Reyes slumped back to his desk. “Varner, open a ship wide channel.”

Varner pressed a couple of buttons on her PADD and handed it to the Captain. “Crew of the U.S.S. Persephone, this is Captain Matthew Reyes. I’m sure some of you have received news or heard rumors that our longtime allies of Vulcan and Tellar along with several others have elected to leave the Federation as a result of conflict over the Romulan Relocation Debate. I know this is not news that many of us were expecting or hoping for, but it is the current reality that we all must face. As of now, our orders are to return to Earth to offload our friends whose worlds are no longer part of the Federation. As hard as I’m sure this is on all of us, it will be even harder on them. Please be aware of this in all of your interactions on this final part of our journey together. It has been a privilege to serve with all of you and it is my enduring hope that I get the opportunity to serve with all of you again. Should you need any support over the course of the next three weeks, Commander Sorel, Dr. Bradbury and I as well as your department heads are available. Captain Reyes out.”

Reyes pressed the end button on the PADD and handed it back to Alison Varner. “Alright… No point in taking more time to wallow. Let’s go. Sorel, tell Park to set a course… for home.”

****

Paris, France. Earth.

President Vigo Broome leaned against his office window with his left forearm as he sipped a glass of brandy with his right hand. The office was far more modest than one would expect the President of an entire planet to have, much less the President of the most powerful planet in this part of the galaxy. Its aesthetic was traditional with plenty of wooden accents and exposed beams with a fireplace at its focal point. The room also featured wall to wall bookcases with ornate hardcover book spines lining each one. President Broome often said that the only indulgence his office contained was a room overlooking the Eifel Tower; something that the Federation President down the street didn’t even have.

A loud beep began emanating from the computer terminal on his desk. President Broome sighed deeply and sauntered over to his desk. He dumped himself harshly into his chair leather desk chair and tapped the screen. He was greeted to the stern face of Admiral Fred Hagman whose face looked like a roadmap. “Evening, Fred… Or rather Good Morning.”

“Mr. President…” Admiral Hagman acknowledged.

The President took a long sip from his drink, emptying the class. Mindlessly, he poured himself another from the crystal decanter on his desk. “Fred, I’m sorry about the Vulcans… did they say why they chose to leave?”

Admiral Hagman rolled his eyes. “Some bullshit about logic and how didn’t make sense to remain with an organization that put the needs of the few above the needs of the many. If we’re being honest, we’re better off without them.”

“Agreed… just wanted to be sure we were on the same page,” President Broome said while toasting the screen with his snifter. “This does put the Federation in a pretty precarious position. The Romulans could use this opportunity to attack.”

Admiral Hagman coughed. “As you know, my grandfather died at Tomed and my father served on the U.S.S. Intrepid at the Khitomer Massacre. I know how the Romulans operate. I’ve heard rumors about the Empire rebuilding behind the Neutral Zone… these Romulans on Earth… how many are there?”

“About 500.”

“About 500 too many, if you ask me. These 500 Romulans on Earth are the Trojan Horse, Mr. President.”

President Broome nodded. “I don’t disagree. Unfortunately, as the President of Earth, my ability to affect change is limited. I was hoping my daughter being assigned to the Federation President’s office would have given me his ear by now, but she seemingly agrees more with his policies than mine. No offense, but I wasn’t really interested in her joining Starfleet in the first place.”

“It’s only a matter of time before Federation President Fahl acquiesces to the Vulcans,” Admiral Hagman spat out. “Mark my words, Mr. President. Before the close of the 24th Century, there will a whole community of Romulans on this planet and within a decade, they will have taken over at least one major city. Then the sky’s the limit. As the Federation gets larger, the less privilege Earth gets.”

President Broome downed his second glass of brandy. “President Fahl is weak. Not only will he bend to pressure, he put a target on his back for every faction who has strong feelings on this matter. Is there any way my daughter can be reassigned?”

Admiral Hagman nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m pretty low on the totem pole and if Fahl has taken a liking to her, there’s little I can do.”

“Thanks for the call, Fred. It’s pleasing to know that I still have friends in Starfleet. Give your best to Wilma,” President Broome toasted Hagman through the screen again.

“Thank you, Mr. President. Regardless of what happens, I have your back.” Admiral Hagman pressed the screen which sent the President’s screen to a wallpaper of the United Earth seal.

President Broome emptied his glass and stood up. He walked over to the window and looked out over the Eiffel Tower and the lights below. How many Romulans are down there right now? What good is the Federation if being a part of it weakens the member worlds? Broome squeezed his glass, lightly cracking the sides. He took one look at it and tossed it into the fireplace; the fire flaring up as it used droplets of brandy as fuel.

Broome hurried over to his desk and pressed his communication device. “Madeline. Can you please retrieve a copy of the Federation Charter from the archives? And bring me another bottle of brandy. I have a lot of work to do.”

-To Be Continued-

Last Edit: Mar 3, 2022 4:10:39 GMT by C_Miller

C_Miller
Second Tier

Posts: 172

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier Mar 5, 2022 22:01:25 GMT

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Post by C_Miller on Mar 5, 2022 22:01:25 GMT

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier #2
The Chimes of Midnight Pt. 2

Captain’s Log: Stardate: 73954.4

After a three-week journey of apprehension and doubt through deep space, the U.S.S. Persephone passed Starbase 001 this morning signaling our return to the outskirts Solar System. No one is quite sure what we’ll find when we get here, but the last leg of our cosmic odyssey begins now.

Crew morale is understandably low. As on any deep space mission, friendships and relationships have been forged and we rush to Earth with the understanding that we may never have the opportunity to see some of our comrades after today. It’s a sobering thought that I have found myself constantly preoccupied with, especially as my thoughts turn to my First Officer and friend Sorel. How much longer before Starfleet won’t let a Romulan serve? How much longer before she’s expelled from the Federation?

***

-U.S.S. Persephone; Bridge-

Captain Matthew Reyes picked at the cushioning on the side of his Captain’s chair arm rest. It was something that he did quite frequently, as evidenced by the hole he had picked in the side, causing some of the stuffing to come out. What he rarely told people is that he had it replaced several times over the course of his tenure as Captain. “Lieutenant Park, please advise as soon as we are in transporter range of Earth. I will be transporting to Paris at the earliest opportunity. Sorel, walk with me. Fender, you have the bridge.”

The Romulan woman nodded and followed as Captain Reyes got up and walked towards the Turbo Lift in the aft of the bridge. When the door of the lift closed, Reyes turned to Sorel and sighed. “You know, I was kind of hoping that we’d never actually make it to Earth.”

“I’m not sure what positive event would have secured such an outcome,” Sorel noted with a smirk.

Captain Reyes rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, keep talking like that and Starfleet Command will assume you’re a Vulcan and send you home.”

“I’d never make it on Vulcan, Captain… too dry.”

The pair laughed though Sorel’s laugh was far more subdued than her gregarious Captain’s. “I have to figure out what’s going on. I hope I still have the ear of the President… not that I think he can do much. Earth is going to destroy the Federation trying to exert its privilege.”

Earth was a founder of the Federation and the four Founders formed a council in the Federation political hierarchy that had a large sway over the direction that the Federation would go in. All of the founding worlds wielded this power at one point or another, such as the Vulcans eliminating the Military Assault Command Operations division in the late 23rd Century and Tellarites not allowing female Captains in Starfleet for the first seventy-five years of the history. However, no one wielded it as often as Earth.

“President Fahl is a good man. Good men can be hard to come by. I would not have been afforded this opportunity without him,” Sorel noted; her expression shifted from jovial to serious. “I’ve been thinking over these last few weeks about how far things have come. You, me, the President…”

Reyes nodded. “Those two weeks in the cave may as well have been a hundred years ago. Not bad for a security non-com, a Romulan soldier and a junior ambassador.”

The turbolift stopped and the doors flew open with the familiar hiss. Captain Reyes and Sorel stepped off and walked down the corridor with purpose, entering the fifth door on the left. Reyes nodded at the Transporter Chief. “Lieutenant.”

Sorel tapped him on the shoulder and took his place at the controls. “May we have the room?”

The Transporter Chief left and Sorel turned back to Reyes. “Captain, I have been entertaining the idea of resigning my commission.”

“What? Why?”

Sorel nodded. “With all due respect, things are about to get pretty bad for Romulans within the Federation. With the closure of Starbase 487, things on Nimbus III are on a steady decline and with the Vulcans and Tellarites leaving the Federation over the ‘Romulan Problem,’ we are going to be personas non grata real soon.”

“So show them! Prove that you are trustworthy. Prove that you can be valuable members of the Federation. You are the best representative of what Romulans can offer us,” Reyes retorted.

Sorel slammed her fist down on the transporter control station. “Dammit, Matthew. That’s not my responsibility. I cannot make bigoted people somehow less bigoted by my actions. At the very least, I just become ‘one of the good ones…’

Sorel trailed off. “How long have we known each other?” Reyes opened his mouth to answer her, but she continued. “22 years! Did you ever realize that I always have my ears covered? People tend to treat you different when you don’t suppress your emotions and have ears like these. Did you know that there are no less than two dozen Romulans on Earth who have elected to have their ears clipped? You Federation types always talk about how enlightened you are, but human history just repeats itself.”

Reyes sighed. He tried to think of a response, but nothing was coming. Thankfully, his combadge chirped to break the silence. He lightly tapped it. “Reyes here.”

“Captain. We just passed the Asteroid Belt. We are in transporter range of Earth,” Lieutenant Park-Taifey spoke clearly.

“Thank you, Jin.” He tapped his communicator to close the channel and stepped onto the transporter pad. “Sorel… I’m sorry. I was being selfish. It’s just… there’s no one else that I want to serve with more.”

Sorel nodded. “Thank you, Captain… Matthew.”

“Do you, uh, want to come over for drinks tomorrow?”

“I don’t think Marla would love the idea of sharing your second night back with an old flame,” Sorel responded, pushing her hair behind her ears.

Reyes shrugged. “I’m sure Alton and Tev will be there too.”

“And crash the class of ‘77 reunion? I will decline. Thank you though.”

“Don’t mention it. One to beam to the Office of the President in Paris,” Reyes smiled. Sorel pushed several buttons and the transporter lit up. “Energize.”

Sorel dragged the energizer from the bottom of the panel to the top. With a shimmer of blue light, Reyes dematerialized from the pad and Sorel was left alone with her thoughts.

***

-Federation Governmental Complex; Paris, France-

Captain Matthew Reyes appeared on the transporter pad in the lobby of the Presidential Building. He nodded to the transporter chief and stopped off the pad into the larger atrium. While making his way to his destination, he took as much time as he could to admire the 17th century architecture mixed with modern adornments. It was like stepping into a time machine.

“MATTHEW!” yelled a voice from behind him.

Reyes turned around and saw a bald-headed man sprinting behind him. “Iroh?”

The man came up to Reyes and pulled him into a tight embrace. Matthew pulled back and got a better look at him. It was Ambassador Iroh Vox, the Federation Ambassador to Delta IV and one of Matthew’s oldest friends. “Matthew, what are you doing here?”

“They called us home. I figured I’d go see the President. Not sure what he can do at this point, but sure beats sitting around and talking to Admirals.” Reyes said with his hand still on Iroh’s shoulder. Iroh did turn off his pheromones any time he was on Earth or amongst mixed crowds, but people were still always magnetized towards him.

Iroh pulled him close to where their foreheads were almost touching. He moved his mouth to Reyes’ ear. “Things are happening, my friend. Things are happening that we’ll have trouble reversing after a point. Every level has bad actors that want the same thing. Keep your friends close.”

Iroh pulled back and nodded at Reyes repeatedly. Reyes opened his mouth to speak, but Iroh slowly placed one finger up to his mouth to shush him. Iroh kept nodding and stepping away until he was almost fully obscured within the crowd.

Reyes shook his head and continued on his journey to the President’s office. Iroh always had a flair for the dramatic, but there was something in his voice that made him slightly more uncomfortable than usual. Reyes wondered if it was due to his own unease.

In just about record time, Reyes arrived at the President’s office. Security checked him over and allowed in into the waiting area. He was greeted by a smiling young woman behind a desk who, with her whole hand, gestured to a set of six seats. “Captain Reyes, I assume? The President is just finishing up a meeting. He will be right with you.”

“Thank you, Ensign…”

“Broome, Captain. Ensign Broome.”

Reyes nodded and sat down. The President’s assistant couldn’t have been older than 23, Reyes thought. She seemed friendly, but that didn’t surprise Reyes. He assumed that was a prerequisite for anyone who President Fahl employed. She had incredibly pale skin with short brown hair that hung naturally, framing a surprisingly round face for such a thin frame.

Just as Reyes sat down, the door to President Fahl’s office whooshed open, allowing President Fahl and his guest, Admiral Estelle Devereux to step out, leading him to stand up again. Estelle Devereux was the youngest Admiral in the fleet since James T. Kirk made Admiral in 2272. She was the only admiral who didn’t have any sign of gray hair and as such let her long black hair flow freely.

“Captain Reyes,” the Admiral nodded as she stepped out.

As soon as the Admiral cleared the office, President Fahl walked up to the Captain and wrapped him in a warm embrace. “Matthew, it is wonderful to see you again. It’s been far too long, my friend.”

During the Dominion War, a twenty-year-old Reyes served as a security officer who often accompanied dignitaries from other worlds. One of those dignitaries was a very young Panem Fahl or rather, Panem Hievmadi as he was known before he became a joined Trill. They became friends when the ship carrying a joint Federation and Romulan diplomatic envoy was shot down by Dominion attack ships and Reyes spent twelve days defending the party as the lone Starfleet Officer left alive.

President Fahl turned to his assistant. “Ensign. Please hold all of my coms until Captain Reyes and I are done.”

The President led Captain Reyes into his office. Unlike the rest of the building, it was extremely modern with bright lights, white adornments and chrome accents. The main feature at the center of the room was a massive monitor with a map of Federation space with ship movements. “Matt… I know what you’re going to say…”

“You’re damned right. You are just as familiar with the Romulans as I am. There is no reason to keep them off of Earth.” Reyes shouted, forgetting the office of which he was speaking to.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It can be!” Reyes blurted out.

The President shook his head emphatically and raised his hand up. “It’s not.”

“Sorel protected you just as gallantly as I did and that was before they were put in this position.”

“Look, Matthew. If it were entirely up to me, I would push the resolution through, but it is not.” President Fahl was started to put more aggression in each word as he went on.

“Bu—” Reyes started.

“Let me finish!” President Fahl shot back. “Earth is losing its support for the Federation by the day. The attack on San Francisco of 2375 is still a sore point for the people here. The attack on Utopia Planitia is equal to that. Humanity is starting to see the Federation and Starfleet is something that they have to sacrifice for in order to benefit others and that sacrifice is starting to weigh and has been fomented by President Broome. They don’t see you ensuring the survival of the Lylatians or when we delouse the water supply on Altair V. They see their sacrifices… they don’t see the benefits.”

Reyes stood up, walking over to the window. “It sounds like you agree with them.”

“Of course not, Matthew! You don’t have to concur to find a place of understanding,” The President shot back. “But, the Federation is in a precarious position. Did you know that Earth owns Starfleet?”

“What?” Reyes looked back with amazement.

The President nodded. “Article 15, Section 5 of the Federation Charter states that ‘Starfleet; being established by United Earth in 2132, will be the core scientific, exploratory, and defense coalition of the United Federation of Planets. Starfleet remains the sole property of United Earth.’ There’s some more legalese there, but it’s pretty airtight. Earth holds the Federation hostage with Starfleet.”

Matthew sat back down in front of the President and sighed deeply. “What do we do?”

“What we always do, Matthew. What bureaucrats have done for thousands of years; their best and hope that better heads prevail.” The President smiled warmly, but sadly.

“And what do I do?” Matt asked.

The President shook his head. “Go home, Matthew. Hug your kids, find a project and do it half way, invite friends over for dinner, make love to your wife. The galaxy is not yours to save right now.”

“But my friends…”

“If Lieutenant Commander Tevvryn wishes to stay on Earth, I will sign his citizenship declaration as soon as it hits my desk. As for Commander Sorel, she is locked in as a Federation Citizen with her enlistment into Starfleet. She also was instrumental in foiling the Breen Incursion a few years back and has been an asset with the Romulans… she is safe as well,”

Captain Reyes slumped down in his chair. He interlaced his hands behind his head and leaned back. “I’m tired of it, Panem. I’m tired of feeling the responsibility of what happens to an entire race. I’m tired of feeling that my loyalty to the Federation flies in the face of my care for the Romulan people. I’m tired having to put on a brave face to my crew who ask how much longer they, their friends or their partners have with us.”

President Fahl nodded. “I admit that being the President of the Federation affords me certain advantages. I don’t always see how the lives of the average person are affected by decisions we make… but we still do our best… go home, Matthew.”

Reyes stood up and moved slowly towards the door. “Panem, there’s supposed to be a promotion ceremony tomorrow at 09:00 hours, I know you have a lot going on, but I know it’d mean a lot to see you there.”

“You know what, Matthew? I’ll be there. I’ll clear that part of my schedule… just let Ensign Broome know on your way out, will you?” President Fahl smiled warmly at the Captain. “Take care, Matthew. See you tomorrow.”

Reyes gave a halfhearted salute to the President and was gone.

***

-The Reyes Residence. Benehavis, Spain-

Matthew Reyes wasn’t always super comfortable with his home. Gaudy is the way that he had often describe it. Too Fancy, if his abuela was around. Truth is, he never felt like he really deserved something so luxurious considering he deep seated belief in the Federation way of life. However, his wife Marla did everything she could to make it feel like a home.

He came to live here when he was 15 years old, when his parents sent him and his younger sister away to live with his grandmother. It’s not that they didn’t love him. Quite the opposite, in fact. No. The Federation had given his home planet away to the Cardassians in the treaty that ended the border wars. Rather than give it up, they elected to stay behind and fight, becoming the founders of a group called the Maquis. By all accounts they fought valiantly until they were all slaughtered by the Dominion.

When on Earth, this was the place he always came back to whether he liked it or not, though the residents; his wife, three children, abuela and sister made the trip worthwhile.

“Padre!” squealed Matthew’s oldest daughter, Lucia as she ran towards him and jumped into his arms. She was 14 years old and the spitting image of her mother. “I have a Holoprogram of the Battle of Khitomer ready to go.”

“Maybe tomorrow, Mija. It’s been a long day.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

His other two children ran up to him and embraced him. His son, Juan look way more like him while his youngest daughter, Margo was a near perfect hybrid. They both started shouting about different things to do with him. Juan wanted to show him the warp field he built for a science fair and Margo wanted him to read to her.

“Kids. Leave your father alone. He just got home. There will be plenty of time for all of this later,” his wife, Marla told them. “Lucia, can you put your sister to bed?”

“You got it, Mom,” she responded pointing finger guns at her with one and clutching her sister’s arm in the other. “C’mon, squirt.”

With the room cleared, Marla sauntered up to her husband, embraced him and kissed him passionately. “Welcome home, Captain.”

Matthew blushed. “It’s a wonder I ever choose to leave.”

“You’ll figure it out one day,” Marla responded. She walked over to the table by the recliner in the den that was right off of the foyer and grabbed a PADD. “I hate to put you to work, but we’ve received some mail. Looks like Alison has set a date for her wedding, I need you to respond to that and there are a couple of sympathy notes that you need to send.”

Matthew sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, one of Starfleet’s greatest exports were lives cut short and while his wife handled all of the business of the home, she left it to Matt to look through those. It was his least favorite part about returning home and somehow, he always forgot about it until she brought it up. “Thank you, Mar. I should get started with this…”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Matt. There will be plenty of time in the morning.”

Matthew sighed again. He didn’t want to remind her the fact that she already knew. With a life in Starfleet, nothing was guaranteed. “Computer. Fire”

A fire started in the fireplace as he sat down in his recliner. He opened up his PADD at the first message that opened was a “Save the Date” invitation for his assistant Alison Varner’s wedding. He smiled as he selected “attending,” though he had no clue where his life would be in March. He did note that he had plenty of leave saved up if need be.

He moved to the next message; a death announcement for Ensign Orla Leary. She was a cadet that served on the Persephone during his first mission as Captain. He remembered that she was pensive, but warm and funny. An immaculate scientist. She spent most of her free time playing the harp, acting in fantasy Holonovels or swimming when the environment allowed. Apparently, she was killed by a parasitic lifeform on Celdan III.

“She was so excited to become an Ensign… killed on her first mission… what a waste,” He thought to himself. He pulled up the stock message that he created on his PADD, filled in some details and sent it to her parents.

Mournfully, he pulled up the next one. Lieutenant Gorm from his days as Administrator of Starbase 487. He threw the PADD down. “She’s right… tomorrow.”

Reyes leaned back in his chair. “Computer, open ongoing message to parents.”

The computer beeped in acknowledgement. “Hey Mom… Dad. I’m back home again. Back from another deep space mission… you’d have hated it…”

***

-Office of the President; Paris, France-

Ensign Misha Broome rolled her shoulders and quickly cracked her neck before moving to each knuckle. She meticulously tugged at each finger until hearing the relieving pop. Once she finished, she rubbed at her eyes and sighed. 20:13, the clock read. She knew before taking the position in the Federation President’s Office that long hours would be requisite, but it wasn’t until the daily 14-hour shifts set in that she fully understood what that meant.

The young woman pulled out her personal PADD from her bag that was hanging across the back of the chair. She moved tomorrow’s wake up alarm from 03:30 to 04:15. She nodded in approval. ‘I can get a run in tonight, sleep in tomorrow,’ she thought.

“Ensign. Please, join me,” shouted President Fahl from the next room.

Misha felt her back slightly crack as she stood up and entered into the adjacent room whose door was already wide open. President Fahl didn’t believe in fences. Or at least that’s what he always said. It drove his security team crazy. “Yes, Mr. President.”

“Drink? I have a touch of saurian brandy, some Andorian Whiskey, a whole bunch of gin I keep getting from Senator Stallings… or I could make us some tea.” The President smiled at her. He was an Alien. A Trill to be more specific, a fact that her father constantly reminded her of. Something about how you should never trust a joined species. However, he exuded a warmth that make him feel almost human; a xenophobic thought she constantly tried to push out of her mind.

“Tea sounds lovely, thank you.”

President Fahl stood up and went over to his replicator. “Computer. Tea set with a teapot filled with four servings of boiling water. Two teacups, two teaspoons, and a half pint of milk on the side.”

The computer responded by materializing the tea set, which he promptly brought over to his desk. He smiled at her and pulled out a box from one his drawers. Opening it, the box was divided into slots with at least a dozen different types of tea bags. “What would you like?

Misha shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, sir.”

He smiled and grabbed four Earl Gray tea bags and placed them in the tea pot. “It’ll be a few minutes. Do you take milk and sugar?”

“No milk, two sugars… so, Mr. President… did you need something?” Misha inquired, trying to dance around being direct.

Fahl chuckled. “Your father’s being a real thorn in my side.”

Misha slumped down in the chair. “Try living with him, sir. 18 years of that and you’ll really have an idea of how impossible he can be.”

President Fahl poured both of them a cup of tea. He handed one to her and took a long sip of his with his eyes closed. After a few seconds, he pulled the cup back from his lips revealing a smile.

“Ahhh,” he contently breathed. “We don’t have anything like this on the Trill Homeworld and replicators don’t quite get the flavor right… you know, support for the Federation is beginning to fade on Earth.”

Misha furled her brown and looked at him with questioning eyes. “Really, sir?”

President Fahl nodded. “We’ve had some polls out. It’s not a real cut and dry issue, but it’s not looking good. One more large-scale event and we’re very likely going to lose more key members. Maybe even Earth.”

Misha looked at him wide eyed. “Do you want me to talk with my father?”

“Do you think he’d listen?”

“… No.”

The President nodded. “I know. Can I ask? Why did you join Starfleet?

Misha took a sip from her tea and smiled. “I’ve never really felt at home here. I would look up at the sky and pick a star and say ‘that’s where I came from.’ I always felt chained to Earth like my father and people like him were expending all of this energy to keep me here as if when they stopped, I would just float away. Starfleet has always been for the adventurers, the warriors and those who wish to go boldly. But, it’s also always been a home for people who didn’t feel like they had anything else. The outcasts.”

President Fahl stood up and walked over to the window. He gazed out at the lights below and smiled. United Earth President Broome always boasted about his view of the Eiffel Tower, but President Fahl? Fahl had the gardens. “You’d have gotten a long with my fourth host… Aralia. She left Trill as soon as she got the chance. She had such a poetic view of travel and believed there was true virtue in being on the move.”

“I feel that…”

President Fahl sat back down. “As long as the Federation has people like you, there’s hope for all of us. Now… to change the subject to something much happier… What are your plans for this weekend?”

Misha finished her cup of tea and as soon as she placed it back on the counter, President Fahl filled it back up. “I entered the Academy Autumn triathlon before I graduated, so I have that Saturday morning and then my boyfriend is taking me to Java for the rest of the weekend, though I imagine I’ll likely be too sore to do anything, but it’ll be nice to get away.”

President Fahl nodded. “Yes… well, you’ve earned some time away. Why don’t you…”

Fahl stopped and looked quickly towards the window. “Did you…?” Before he could finish the question, the power went off in the room, blackening everything. Misha honed in and could hear the breeze from outside indicating that the force field window as down, in the distance she heard a light alarm from down in the complex.

“Mr. President?” Misha asked with a whisper.

Before, he could answer, she heard the loud footsteps of Security run through the waiting room and into his office. “President Fahl, we have to get you secure.”

Misha who still had her ears trained to the window was the only person who heard the sound of metal bounce than begin to roll on wood. She heard the familiar beeping sound beep three times before she no longer felt anything.

The President’s office exploded in a giant ball of fire, blowing the wall out into the garden.

-To Be Continued-

Last Edit: Mar 5, 2022 22:04:38 GMT by C_Miller

C_Miller
Second Tier

Posts: 172

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier Mar 26, 2022 1:06:45 GMT

Quote

Post by C_Miller on Mar 26, 2022 1:06:45 GMT

Star Trek: Infinite Frontier #3
The Chimes at Midnight Pt. 3

-The Reyes Estate; Benehavis, Spain-

Every time he returned home, Matthew Reyes never slept well. It was usually only two, maybe three days, but in the past, it had been more than a week. On a ship, there is a constant whir, motion and the droning of the warp core. On a ship, any time he couldn’t sleep, he could always count the stars as they flew by. On a ship, he had tasks to complete, stuff to occupy his mind. On Earth, he had none of that. No whir, motion or drone, no distinct purpose and certainly no passing stars. Only the crickets, wind and a wife cuddled up to him who he was convinced was the first human/volcano hybrid.

Matt rolled over and kissed his wife on the temple. She stirred a bit and grumbled something under her breath, but she did not wake up. He fumbled in the dark for his sweatpants and slipped them on as he continued to move towards the door and to the kitchen.

The kitchen hadn’t changed in the twenty-seven years that he called this place his home, so he didn’t need to turn on the lights to grab himself a glass from the counter. He walked over to the tap, turned it on and felt the water with his hand to make sure it was cold before filling it up. This would have been an easier process with a replicator, but his abuela didn’t believe in them. She always said Earth has too many natural resources to rely on a computer for sustenance.

Suddenly, Matthew heard a very loud beeping coming from his bedroom. He ran down the hall into his study and pressed the communication application on his PADD. Dr. Bradbury dressed in full surgical gear appeared on the screen his look was somewhere between grim and frantic.

“Doc…?”

“Matt, no time. Get to Paris right now. It’s the President…”

***

-Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital. Paris, France-

Captain Reyes rushed into the lobby of the Federation VIP Ward, still adjusting parts of his uniform. He ended his call with Dr. Bradbury less than five minutes ago and he was already in Paris. Even in the 24th Century, Reyes was proud of his speed.

“HEY, YOU! STOP! What are you doing here?” shouted a security guard from across the room as she sprinted towards Reyes with a phaser drawn.

Reyes put his hands above his head. “Captain Matthew Reyes, Lieutenant. The President is a friend of mine, so is the attending physician.”

“Matt!” Iroh Vox called as he came over to them. “Ma’am, I can vouch for him.”

The woman nodded and stepped back to her post, allowing Iroh to lead Matt back towards the surgical center. The room was set up as a triage ward with doctors running around, treating those who were wounded and moving on to the next ones. Matthew recognized the head of the President’s security detail as a doctor covered his body with a simple white sheet.

Reyes looked down at the cot closest to him and realized that it was Ensign Misha Broome, the President’s personal assistant. She looked almost unrecognizable. Blood nearly covered her entire body, though he couldn’t tell if it was hers. Her left leg below the knee was entirely missing and her left arm was hanging by what look like one tendon on the shoulder. Her face was completely mangled on the left side and her eyes were completely white.

Reyes reached down and grabbed her right hand and was felt a small swell of joy when he felt it squeeze back. He looked at her face again and saw a tear fall down her right cheek.

“This one!” Reyes jumped back, not realizing that there was a doctor with a tricorder out right next to him. “This is Broome’s daughter!”

Reyes inched up as two medical assistants picked up her cot and took it to another room. “Just keep her alive. The President’s personal physician will be here within the next fifteen minutes.”

The Doctor turned to face Reyes. “And you are?”

“Captain Matthew Reyes. Doctor Bradbury called for me.” Without speaking, the Doctor grabbed Reyes by the arm and lead in back towards a private surgical suite. They entered the room and as they crossed the threshold, they were doused with an anti-bacterial beam. Doctor Bradbury was standing towards the corner of the room while four doctors operated on President Fahl. “Alton?”

“Matt! I’m glad to see you.”

Captain Reyes knew why Bradbury was called in, but he tried not to think of it in that moment. There was only one reason why one of Starfleet’s predominant experts on Trill physiology was called in. It wasn’t to rescue the host.

“How bad is it?” Reyes asked, already knowing the answer.

Doctor Bradbury shook his head. “It’s grim, Captain. We’re going to have to make a choice soon. If we keep going, we risk losing both of them… I know we have to try saving the President, but we can’t lose the symbiont.”

Matthew nodded. Panem Fahl was a Trill, specifically a joined Trill The Trill were a symbiotic species where hosts carried long-lived symbionts through their lives taking on the memories and some personalities of the past hosts. The symbionts were revered in Trill society and hosts were tasked with protecting the life of the symbiont at all costs. “Who gives the order?”

“I do!” Admiral Mark Taifey plowed into the surgical suite. He was already naturally taller than both Reyes and Bradbury, yet his posture made him tower over them. “Harvest the symbiont now. President Fahl is the only reason Trill didn’t leave the Federation last month. The loss of the Fahl symbiont will harm the uneasy relationship we have on that planet. We don’t have a choice here.”

“Admiral, we have a little bit more time,” Bradbury responded.

“Can’t do it, Doctor. This order comes from above my paygrade,” Admiral Taifey said

Doctor Bradbury looked over at President Fahl. He knew that this was likely the result regardless of how much they worked on him. Matthew walked over to where the Doctors were working on him. He placed his hand on his shoulder and the President looked up at him. “Matt… don’t… don’t let it end…”

“He’s coding,” shouted one of the Doctors. “Doctor Bradbury, we need you!”

Doctor Bradbury ran over, pushing Matt away. As Doctor Bradbury began his work on harvesting the symbiont, Reyes walked over to the Admiral. “Damned Romulans,” Admiral Taifey whispered.

“Romulans?” Reyes inquired.

Taifey shrugged. “Who else? Just a few weeks after the stall in Relocation talks. Stands to reason.”

Matthew didn’t respond. He knew his opinion on Romulans were not popular and would fall on deaf ears. He rubbed his fingers through his greying black hair as he watched Doctor Bradbury effectively end the life of one half of a friend, yet save the other half. “What’s the plan?”

“Unfortunately, there are only a dozen Trills on the planet. Three are joined, but of the rest, a couple are too old. A couple are too young enough, but the Trills Council demands that we don’t put a symbiont in an unprepared host unless in an emergency. So we have to take it back to Trill,” Admiral Taifey said.

Matthew nodded. “How do you plan on doing that?”

Taifey shrugged. “We’ll prep a ship and have it ready to go by mid-day tomorrow. Obviously, we’ll have to assign Doctor Bradbury to that ship temporarily.”

Reyes shook his head. “Mark, I can have the Persephone ready to go within the hour. Alton already has the Sick Bay the way he likes it and the crew is small enough to keep details of the mission on a need to know basis.”

Admiral Taifey rocked his head back and forth, mulling it over. “It’s a training vessel…”

“It’s ready to go. The orbital fleet is not prepared for interstellar travel and since we just got home yesterday, she isn’t up on blocks yet. I can take a crew of 35 and be there and back by this time next week,” Reyes explained.

Taifey huffed. “Alright… I’ll let Starfleet Command know. I’ll see if there are any unjoined Trill officers on Earth… I’ll assign them to the Persephone.”

“One last thing. I want Lieutenant Commander Tevvryn to stay on. No one knows the engines better than him and I know he’s our guy to keep us at top speed,” Captain Reyes asked hopefully.

Taifey huffed again. “Fine. Get to the damn ship, Reyes. You better be out of the Solar System by zero-two-hundred.”

“Aye sir.”

Reyes ran out the door and was sprayed by the anti-bac beam. As soon as he left, he was hit with the realization of what happened. He felt his legs buckle from underneath him and grabbed hold of the closest wall to keep him standing. He looked down at his uniform, but there was nothing remiss on the black and burgundy fabric. However, he touched his chest and felt something moist. Pulling his fingers away, he saw blood coating them. He let out a cry and squatted down on the ground.

“It’s done, Matt… I’m so sorry.”

Captain Reyes didn’t acknowledge when Dr. Bradbury placed his hand on his shoulder. After a moment, he reached up and touched his hand and shook it against him. “Alright, brother. Let’s go.”

***

-Bridge of the U.S.S. Persephone-

Captain Matthew Reyes took a deep breath as he stepped on to the bridge of his ship. He had been on the deck less than 24 hours ago, but it felt like weeks. “Mr. Park-Taifey, clear all moorings and prepare to disembark.”

“Captain, do you have a heading?” the junior Lieutenant asked matter-of-factly.

Reyes shook his head as he stood behind the Conn Officer. “Not yet, Jin. Give me 10 minutes.”

Jin nodded his head and went back to work at his controls. He took a deep breath as he worked attempting to clear his mind of any potential problems. He had just received new orders where he was to report to work Starfleet Academy for additional operations training, but was awoken in the middle of the night to report to back to the Persephone. “Moorings released. All systems ready.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Stand by. Sorel. Join me in my ready room.” The Romulan got up from the Operations Station and followed Reyes to the Ready Room. Reyes sat down behind his desk and she took one of the chairs in front.

“At what point do you tell the crew we’re on our way to Trill?” Sorel asked.

Reyes sighed. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to ask how she knew about the top-secret mission before everyone besides Dr. Bradbury knew, but he couldn’t muster it. He was numb. “In a moment. But you’re not going.”

“Sir?”

“I don’t know, Sorel. I got a bad feeling about this. I’d like you to stay behind and see if you can figure out what happened. If the Romulans are involved…”

“If the Romulans are involved, I will likely be taken to prison,” Sorel interjected.

Captain Reyes nodded. “Yes. So, I need you to find the alternative. I don’t believe… I can’t believe the Romulans are involved with this, but popular sentiment will prevail if an alternative can’t be provided. I trust you still have some connections in Starfleet Intelligence.”

Sorel shrugged. “Most of them were never fond of working with a Romulan, but I’m sure I can find someone on the fringes.”

“See that you do,” Reyes breathed.

“Anything else, Matthew?” Sorel spoke almost at a whisper, using her Captain’s real name to signal her care.

Reyes shrugged and shook his head. Sorel nodded and left the room while he gazed out of his window at planet Earth with the moon in the background. Reyes had been a Captain for almost four years now and was an administrator on a Space Station for five years prior to that. He was many things, but he did not lack command experience, but he had never been through something like this.

Captain Reyes stood up and eased towards the door to the bridge. He stopped at the model of Starbase 347, placing his hand on it and began to lightly rub it with his thumb and forefinger as he closed his eyes and counted back from ten in his head. When he reached one, he took a deep breath stepped towards the door, still with his eyes closed using the hiss of the sliding door to determine that it was safe to continue. “Commander Fender. Commander Sorel will not be joining us. I need you to fill in as acting First Officer for the remainder of this mission.”

Fender nodded. “Sir, what is our mission?”

Reyes waived his hand towards her. “I’ll get to that.”

He walked towards the Conn Station at the front of the ship and placed his hand on Lieutenant (J.G.) Jin Park-Taifey’s shoulder. “Mr. Park-Taifey, I’m going to need you to take the Operations Station.”

Jin looked up at his Captain with perplexity, but quickly shook his head. “Y… yes, sir.” He got up and moved towards the Operations Station, which was the front most station on the right side of the bridge from the Captain’s perspective.

Reyes shook his head assertively towards Allison Varner who was standing next to the Captain’s Chair. “Chief Varner, take the Conn.”

Varner’s blue eyes grew wider as she pushed her blonde bangs away from them. “But, sir, I have never flown outside of simulators…”

“We’re going to try to make this as routine as possible. If we see some action, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I just need someone I trust at the controls.” Reyes looked around the bridge from the front. By this point, everyone was staring at him and he sighed.

“Matt? What is this all about?” Tevvryn, who was seated at the Engineering station next to Lieutenant Park-Taifey grunted.

“Tev, Park, Varner, Fender stay. The rest of you, clear the bridge.” The four other crewmembers who were on the bridge looked at each other with looks of bewilderment, but nodded and exited quickly and efficiently.

As soon as the last left the bridge, Captain Reyes sat down assertively in the Captain’s Chair at the center of the room. “My friends, at roughly twenty-three-hundred hours, the Federation Headquarters was attacked with coordinated bombings directly targeting the Office of the Federation President leaving eleven dead and forty-five wounded. One of those wounded was the President himself and due to his status as a joined Trill, the decision was made to separate the host from the symbiont.”

The bridge was completely silent except for a small gasp that escaped Varner’s mouth. “At one-hundred-fifty-two hours, Federation Panem Fahl died and we were tasked with returning the symbiont to Trill. I have elected to play this close to the vest. The news should be hitting the airwaves in the next several hours, but in case there are other parties at play, I want to make sure we obscure as much as possible.”

Captain Reyes cleared his throat before he continued. “The five of us and Doctor Bradbury are going to be the only people with knowledge of our mission and our heading. Your personal logs will remain clear, all navigation logs will be encrypted, and all communications to and from the Persephone will run through my Ready Room. If it were up to me, we would be the only ones on this mission, but in case of emergency, we need our reserves.”

“Err, Captain. May I involve Lieutenant Lakhani in this? It is not right to keep my Assistant Chief Engineer in the dark.” Tev grumbled.

Reyes nodded. “Yeah, it’ll likely be helpful to have another set of eyes on the Engineering station.”

Captain Reyes stood up and positioned himself so that he could attempt to see everyone. “It’s four days to the Trill Homeworld. There are going to be a lot of long nights and days, but I volunteered us for this mission because I knew we were up to the task. There are no other people that I would rather face this with. We may not have been granted the most regal ship in the fleet, but her crew is the best I’ve ever served with.”

Reyes turned towards the front of the bridge. “Varner. Set a course for the Trill Homeworld. Maximum Warp.”

Varner trepidatiously keyed in the coordinates on the navigation pad on her station. She squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. “Course laid in, sir.”

Reyes let a slight smile cross his face. “Vamos.”

The crew felt the ship turn towards its destination and faintly lurch forward before the inertial dampeners kicked in. “Commander Fender. You have the bridge. Could you please send Ketel Ebnari up please?”

“Aye sir.”

Captain Reyes nodded as he stepped into his Ready Room.

-Federation Complex. Paris, France-

Sorel faintly groaned as she stepped off the transporter pad in the Federation Mega Complex. It was one of the rare spaces that she was unable to blend in. Everyone knew who she was. While most people she encountered would not say anything to her, she knew how they felt in the silence space between their words. Now one of her few friends in the Federation capital was dead and her people may have been the cause.

“Commander Sorel. It is agreeable to see you.”

Sorel rolled her eyes before turning around and looking upon the Cardassian dressed in a Starfleet uniform. “Ellistar Sestek. I had a feeling Starfleet would get you involved on this. You should feel right at home. How many of your Legates managed to finish their terms in the last 20 years?”

“These are… trying times.” Sestek conceded with a smile.

Sorel snorted. “Don’t kid yourself, Sestek. You revel in this.”

“At least I’m open about it. This is why nobody likes Romulans, my dear. You may have left Vulcan because you no longer wanted to suppress your emotions, but Romulans are the masters of suppressing everything else.”

“Just because you’re bad at hiding your duplicity doesn’t make you virtuous,” Sorel shot back.

“Oh, Sorel, I’ve missed this repartee. The intelligence service hasn’t been the same without you. How is gallivanting around the cosmos with that... troglodyte?” Sestek chose his last word carefully. He had never personally met Captain Reyes, but judged him on reputation alone.

“Matthew Reyes is a good man and a true believer. He’s the reason we do what we do and can still sleep at night,” Sorel responded.

“Quite right, quite right,” Sestek said.

Sorel began to walk towards the President’s Office with Sestek. “So, what’s your initial hypothesis?”

“You know what it is. Every security and intelligence officer from here to Farpoint Station all have the same assumption… which is why I have no interest in it,” Sestek responded.

“You don’t think it was Romulan?” Sorel asked hopefully.

Sestek laughed. “No, I absolutely do. It’s just not worth exploring. Every meathead in Starfleet is looking for evidence to prove what they think they already know.”

Sorel raised her eyebrow. It was one trait that made her feel like a Vucaln. “So what are you keeping your eye out for. What’s your alternative?”

“Conspiracy.”

Sorel stopped dead in her tracks. “You don’t possibly think that this was internal… This isn’t Cardassia.”

Sestek shrugged. “I have it on good authority, Commander that President Fahl was in the process of approving a plan for Romulan relocation. 250 million Romulan souls were going to be distributed between Titan, Luna and even parts of Earth.”

“That never would have gotten through the Founder’s Council. Especially without Vulcan,” Sorel responded incredulously.

Sestek moved towards Sorel and pulled her into an embrace, hovering his mouth close to her ear. “It would if the Founder’s Council was eliminated. Judge Claudia Schwarz was seen leaving the President’s Office four days ago and you know what her opinions are… It is being reported in certain channels that President Fahl was looking for a way to restrict the power of the remaining Founders.”

“Is this all legitimate?” Sorel asked.

“I am uncertain, but the questions are enticing. I have all of the evidence holographicaly catalogued. I can have it sent to your home.”

Sorel patted him on the shoulder as she turned to leave. “Thank you, Sestak. I’ll head over there right now.”

“Sorel… I know he was your friend. I’m sorry. It never does get easier, does it?” Sestek spoke with an uncharacteristic amount of sympathy.

“No. It never does.”

-U.S.S. Persephone; Captain’s Ready Room-

Captain Reyes sat at the desk in his Ready Room filtering through his messages. Typically this was a task for Allison Varner, but she was busy at the Flight Control station and while he was happy that she was finally on her way to move on from being his Yeoman, he did miss her organizational skills, especially now when he had no less than a dozen questions from crew members below deck.

The response from his wife was the one he was looking forward to the least. She understood what the experience of a Starfleet wife would be like. Still, he knew she wouldn’t take too kindly to his flight in the night. Just as he was about to click on the message, he heard the bell on the door beep to indicate someone on the other side.

“Come.”

The doors hissed opened and in walked a Starfleet officer wearing Lieutenant (J.G.) pips and a science division uniform. Her slightly longer than shoulder length was brown with her eyes matching. She also had dark brown randomly shaped spots against her slightly bronzed skin that went from her temples all the way down the sides of her neck. She was a Trill. “Lieutenant Ketal Ebnari, reporting for duty, sir.”

“Lieutenant. Welcome to the Persephone. Please have a seat.”

Lieutenant Ebnari gracefully sat in the chair directly across from Captain Reyes. “Thank you, sir. With all due respect, I’m a little confused as to what I’m doing here. Unless I am mistaken, the Tempest-Class doesn’t have much need for scientists, especially a xenobiologist. I wasn’t even given thirty minutes notice for my transfer.”

“Yes, this has all been a bit sudden, Lieutenant and for that I apologize. Can I get you anything?” Reyes asked, waving towards his replicator.

Ebnari shook her head. “I’m alright, sir. I managed to find enough time to guzzle down a cup of coffee before I had to leave the Hampton.”

Captain Reyes stood up and strolled over to his replicator. “Raktajino.”

The replicator beeped and a mug with a Starfleet emblem materialized onto the pad. Reyes removed it from the replicator and took a sip, letting out a long sigh afterwards. “I got hooked on this stuff when I spent three weeks recovering from some injuries on Deep Space Nine during the war. Let me tell you, it’s no surprise that Klingons drink it to get an extra pep in their step before battle.”

“I never got the taste for it. Too strong. Felt like I was drinking plasma discharge.” Ebnari smiled briefly before letting it fall. “So… sir, what am I doing here?”

Reyes nodded. “I don’t wish to be the bearer of bad news, but earlier today, President Panem Fahl was assassinated. We managed to save the symbiont and we have been tasked with returning it to the Trill Homeworld. Starfleet did not want to have us leave without an unjoined Trill coming with us in case the symbiont takes a turn for the worse.”

Ebnari closed her eyes. “And I’m that unjoined Trill.”

“There are very few Trills on Earth right now. Most are either already joined or too old and you’re the only one in Starfleet that, frankly, Starfleet could order come.” Reyes spoke softly as if to make sure that no one overheard them, even though they were in his private Ready Room.

“I see. You know, I never wanted to be joined. I was always fearful of having to balance out my own personality with the personalities of so many others and the idea of myself living after my death… kind of freaked me out.” Ebnari pushed her hair back behind her ears and looked down at the desk, trying to avoid the Captain’s eyes. “But, if this is what Starfleet wants of me…”

Captain Reyes raised his hand to stop her. “I will not order you to take on the symbiont.”

“Sir?”

“I am not Trill, so you may take my opinion with a grain of salt, but I believe your bodily autonomy is more important than the life of the symbiont.” Captain Reyes spoke firmly, but caringly. “Panem Fahl was my friend, but I would never ask you to do something you were not comfortable with in order to make sure he lives on.”

Ebnari looked up at him for the first time since he mentioned Fahl’s death. “Captain, that does not seem wise. The admiralty will not be pleased if they ordered me here.”

Reyes shook his head. “Let me worry about that. Everything that happens on the Persephone is my responsibility and I will not have my crew worry about what Starfleet Command will do as they carry out my order.”

“I will… think about it, sir. I owe you at least that. Plus, my sister will not be pleased with me if I refused a symbiont. She just started her training a few months ago.” Ebnari with a dazed softness as she stared into space.

Reyes stood up again and invited her to stand with a hand raised out towards her. “That’s all I will ask of you, Lieutenant. Now if you’ll join me on the bridge.” She dutifully followed him as they left the Ready Room and went on to the Bridge.

“CAPTAIN ON THE BRIDGE,” shouted Lieutenant Zariya Lakhani as she shot up from the Engineering Station.

Lieutenant Park-Taifey looked over incredulously and smiled at her. “We… don’t really do that here.”

She looked over at him wide-eyed and quickly sat down. “Sorry, it’s just that I don’t spend much time on the bridge. They generally keep me below deck, which makes sense because I don’t really get along with people or rather people don’t really get along with me. I’m told that I annoy people and when a ship is in a tense situation or battle, they really don’t need an on deck Engineer to be annoying. It’s nothing personal, I know I can be a lot sometimes.”

“Don’t sweat it, we’ve all been there,” Lieutenant Park-Taifey smiled as he transferred some of the shield power to the engines.

Lieutenant Lakhani let a sound from the back of her throat escape her mouth. “No, you don’t understand. I’ve been like this my whole life. Well, as long as I can remember. I can’t say if I have been like this my whole life. I can only remember back to when I was three or something like that. Maybe a bit earlier, maybe a bit later. It’s hard to say when your first memories come from. I remember my father showing me how to realign dilithium crystals on our air schooner, which you may think as overkill for a ship only meant to fly within the atmosphere, but they were the most reliable thing on Naranda IV and when you were running from people trying to kill you, you take what you can get.”

Lieutenant Park-Taifey looked at her wide-eyed. “Don’t worry about it. Just remember. You’re one of the best at your job that Starfleet has. That’s why you were chosen to be here. Lylat IV has all four seasons again because of you.”

Lieutenant Lakhani smiled as she stared past him. “That was an especially ingenious fix. When we got there, it we were struggling to figure out how to adjust the phase couplers, but all they needed was…” Zariya closed her eyes and nodded her head. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Thank you.”

Captain Reyes strolled over to his chair and took a seat. “Crew, I’d like to introduce you to Lieutenant Ketel Ebnari. She will be joining us on this mission to the Trill Homeworld. It’s unfortunate that it’s taken this course of events for me to get a scientist on the Persephone, but I assure you, on the way back to Earth we will be taking advantage of her skill set.”

“Lieutenant Ebnari, we could use some help at Mission Ops.” Ebnari took her the station towards the back on the left side, next to Tactical where she was greeted with a warm smile by Lieutenant Commander Fender. “Chief Varner. Status report.”

“The course remains clear, sir. We will arrive at the Trill Homeworld in 3 days 14 hours and 52 minutes,” Varner responded.

“Alright, friends. We have a long couple of days ahead of us. Fender, Lakhani, Tev, why don’t you go ahead and get a few hours of sleep. Park, Ebnari, Varner and I will hold down the fort.” The Captain ordered. “Varner, steady as she goes.”

-Federation Council Chambers-

United Earth President Vigo Broome paced back and forth in the holding area as he awaited the signal to go out.

The Chambers were far more empty than they had been just a few short months ago. The Vulcan and Tellarite delegations took a space at the Founder’s Table at the front of the room, leaving it half empty and the Bajorans and Kelpians sat near each other, leaving another empty spot towards the back of the room.

“President Broome. They’re ready for you,” Federation Councilmember Eustace Gorely said as he popped his head into the room.

With a deep breath, President Broome strode into the room confidently facing forward and immediately turning 90 degrees when he reached the podium. He heard a few cheers, but mostly polite clapping and murmurs.

Broome cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone. “Good evening. Thank you for inviting me to address your chambers today on one of the darkest days in Federation history.”

He leaned away from the mic to clear his throat again as he felt the crowd begin to stir. Leaning in again. “Today, we experienced an attack on our very foundation. A capstone on aggression that has been directed towards us over the last fifteen years. President Panem Fahl stands as the only President in Federation history to be assassinated and it stands to reason that it would occur during these uncertain times. And while the investigation is still ongoing, it is becoming abundantly clear that this attack was devised, planned and perpetrated by Romulan terrorists.”

The hushed murmurs crescendoed into a din of disparate voices as his final insistence. While most of the remaining members of the Federation Council were not sympathetic to the plight of the Romulan refugees, they were still taken by the provocative claim.

“But, President Fahl was in favor of Romulan relocation!” shouted Ambassador Iroh Vox from the Deltan Delegation. “Why would they murder one of the few voices left to advocate for them?”

President Broome waived him off. “I don’t pretend to know what is in the mind of a Romulan terrorist, Ambassador. I just know that they have been intent to destroy our way of life since we first encountered them more than 200 years ago. And they only reason they killed twenty-five last night was because they couldn’t kill twenty-five hundred or twenty-five thousand. My own daughter clings to life this morning because she committed the heinous crime of believing in the Federation.”

“So, what do you propose, Mr. President?” Eustace Gorely asked from his place at the founder’s table.

President Broome nodded and leaned into the microphone again. “As soon as I return to my office, I will be signing a decree that will see every single Romulan living on this planet to be expelled within the next 72 hours. At which time, they will be relocated to a Starfleet facility on Centauri Prime where their connection to the assassination of the President can be determined.”

“President Broome, may I ask?” Iroh Vox began. “Do you do deny that the

President Broome shook his head. “I deny nothing. However, I ran on the position of placing the needs of Earth above the needs of the Federation. For too long Earth has artificially propped up the Federation at the expense of its people and after this brazen attack by the Federation’s longest standing enemy, I’m going to have to take the next several days to assess Earth’s place in the Federation.”

The crowd began to rustle and speak so loudly that the microphone no longer projected the President’s voice loud enough to speak over the crowd. He bowed his head and stepped off stage with a wave and a muffled ‘thank you.’

Back stage, he saw Doctor Klaus Lindemenn rushing hurriedly towards him. The men served together for a short while when Broome was a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander during the Dominion War. The pair had become close when their ship crash landed on an uninhabited planet and they were the only two who managed to survive until their rescue. When they both left Starfleet a few years after, Lindemenn remained Broome’s family physician. “Doctor… my daughter.”

“She lives, Mr. President. She lives. We had to amputate both of her legs; one above the knee and one at the hip and one of her arms. She was also blinded by the heat of the explosion. But she lives.” The Doctor said, choosing every word carefully.

Tears began to flow from the President’s face. He placed both his arms on Lindemenn’s shoulders and leaned against him. “Thank you, thank you. Where do we go from here?”

“Prosthetic and cybernetic enhancements have come a long way in the last several decades. One of the benefits of wartime medicine. But, we can have her fitted for everything and there’s no reason that she won’t be able to live a relatively normal life,” Doctor Lindemenn responded. “You can even see her now, if you’d like.”

President Broome shook his head. “I cannot. I have a lot of work to do. Send for the First Lady…”

President Broome rushed out of the complex leaving Doctor Lindemenn just standing there.

-Sorel’s Homestead; Emilia-Romagna-

When Sorel moved to Earth, she had the pick of anywhere to live. She had no family there, no friends besides Matthew Reyes and was not going to spend much time there due to her time in Starfleet. So, she chose to settle in Italy, specifically the Emilia-Romagna region as it reminded her the most of Romulus. The surroundings were littered with lush forests, beautiful mountains and serene lakes and she chose to place her home where she could enjoy all three. Her home was modest. She didn’t need much. She just had a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom and a small living space. It’s not like she ever entertained visitors.

Sorel grabbed a plate of viinerine from the replicator. It was far from her favorite, but it reminded her of her time in the Romulan military. She sat down on her sofa with the box of evidence from Ellistar Sestek in front of her on her coffee table.

“Alright, Ellistar… what did you find? Computer, play security footage, outdoor cameras; sections 3, 4, 6, 7 and 9. Ten minutes before incident.” Sorel took a bite of the pasta looking dish as her holoprojector set up a split screen with the five different locations outside of the capital building.

Her eyes fixated on all the screens, she lazily put her hair up on a bun, revealing her pointed ears. “Computer Freeze program.” She said as she saw an obscured figure at one of the security relays.

“Got you. Computer, focus on subject at coordinate -4, -8 in Section 7. Follow their movements backwards at 2.5x speed.” Sorel spoke with confidence. She watched as the figure, who was smart enough to never show their face to the camera.

Her eyes kept shifting from the figure to the time stamp. Sorel had been following them from the time of the bombing and quickly began to feel a pit in her stomach grow as the time marched on. The figure had spent four hours in the complex at this point without showing a point of entry at any time. “Who… are you?”

She watched as the figure moved from corridor to corridor, avoiding contact with as many people as possible, yet the figure was greeted kindly when she happened to have an encounter with a Starfleet Officer.

As the figure showed no signs of stopping, she began thumbing through other bits of the package Sestak sent over. Her heart stopped as she ran her hand over a smooth round item in the Starfleet duffle bag. She grabbed and pulled out the grey sphere with a red button at the top. A Romulan Tricobalt Detonator.

Her eyes darted back up to the holomictic and saw the figure reveal their face for the first time. It was her or at least someone who looked exactly like her. “Computer, Freeze.”

Just then, the room was filled with the ringing sound of her proximity alarms. She snapped her head in the direction of her door just as an explosion knocked the door and part of her wall open and a half dozen Starfleet Security operatives piled through with Type III Phaser Rifles pointed at her.

“Commander Sorel. You are under arrest for conspiracy to assassinate the Federation President.”

-To Be Continued-

Last Edit: Mar 26, 2022 1:07:23 GMT by C_Miller