Fan Fiction: Star Trek Discovery: The Mercenary

part 2: Tears in The Rain.

As the senior officers of the Discovery stood on the Shuttle deck watching the galaxy's most notorious mercenary fly his unique ship into the Discovery's massive shuttle bay they saw a ship that was both out of place, and just oozing awesome.

Captain Lorca looked closely at Baron's ship. It was clearly an aerospace fighter aircraft that had been adapted to warp technology; but there was more. The control surfaces had been refitted with what looked like impulse engines. "Is that an F-14 Tomcat." stated Lorca. It was not a question.

"I am not familiar with that designation." Stated 1st officer Saru.

Lorca continued, "It was a classic." Revolutionary design. "It was the biggest quantum leap in air superiority technology in history, including the F-22 Raptor. The Tomcat was better than its contemporaries; even better than the Raptor or the F-35 was; when compared to the French Raphael, Eurofighter Typhoon, or MIG 38, or even the SU-57."

"It's airframe was required study at the Vulcan Science academy." Stated Michael, "Both as a way of showing extreme high performance, and insanely high maintenance cost."

"What justified such an expensive aircraft?" asked Saru.

"A Nimitz Class Carrier Group cost about 1,500 pallets of gold pressed latinum." Said Michael with the cost and currency conversion done with Vulcan like speed, as one would expect.

Ensign Tilly made an observation as the "tomcat" landed. "The wings contain gravity plating. That's been tried by theoretical physicists many times, they can never get it to work."

"Does that have any advantages?" asked Lorca, genuinely curious.

"Hell yes," stated Tilly, "You can, in theory, make atmospheric style maneuvers in a vacuum, and even during warp speed. You could also, again in theory, go much faster than one quarter impulse." Tilly just stared for a moment in awe. "All of the test vehicles tore themselves apart. Nobody could ever figure out why. I wrote a paper on it in high school. It helped me get into Starfleet Academy."

Michael was astonished. "I read that paper. Starfleet had it classified. That was yours." stated Michael. It was not a question.

The slick ship landed on the deck and its wings swept back into the "parked" position. The cockpit canopy did not open, but a transporter materialized Baron SouthPaw next to the air superiority fighter, along with a steel carrying case about fifty inches long, by six inches deep, by twenty inches wide. Saru spotted it right away, "That's my bass." he said, his excitement was noticeable, despite Saru's reputation for his calm demeanor.

As the Discovery crew came to meet their new "shipmate" there were mixed feelings about the new arrival. Landry, simply peered through her massive amounts of cybernetics at Baron and his vintage/modern Tomcat. Tilly almost ignored Baron and went right to the gravity plating ports in the wings and fins. Captain Lorca stayed back and observed his crew's reactions. Michael and Baron shook hands and nodded. Saru simply grasped Baron briefly and then set his attention directly to the bass guitar.

As Landry approached Baron he handed her a single, small piece of paper, "This is my exhaustive manifest as ordered" he stated. There were only three items on it.

1. Me

2. My shit Stuff

3. Fender Bass guitar. 1958 pre-CBS. Precision Bass. Sunburst Property of 1st officer Saru (pattern enhancer placed behind pickguard). Do not remove.

Landry was not amused but she didn't say anything. She simply placed the paper in her pocket and left the shuttle bay.

Baron approached Captain Lorca, "Captain Lorca; Baron SouthPaw reporting as ordered, private military contractor, under bond to Star Fleet as Warrant Officer level 3 with a specialty in Direct Action. Request permission to come aboard." It was a long introduction for such a simple request, but it was 'official'.

Lorca was pleased with Baron's polite manners, "Permission granted." affirmed Captain Lorca.

As Saru pulled his vintage bass guitar out of the case, put the strap on it, and slung in across his chest like it was a lightsaber and he was Luke Skywalker himself; was now in full 1980's hair band mode with Star Fleet uniform and 1958 Fender bass guitar. "Captain; request permission to use the shuttle bay for a 'jam session'."

Captain Lorca had seen the crew suffer under a hard war, a war that they were loosing. He had been hard on them. He came to his decision deliberately and quickly. He opened a ship wide announcement, "Crew of the Discovery. This is Captain Lorca. The main shuttle bay has just been commandeered by a garage band and are preparing to enter into a jam session. Any personnel not doing something important are invited to attend. Bring beer."

Lorca addressed Baron, "What's your instrument Baron?"

"Guitar and bass." Baron replied, "Do you know any drummers on board?"

Stamets started to speak, Lorca interrupted him.

"Permission granted Paul. Go get your drum set." Lorca was hopeful something like this could be just what the doctor ordered to revitalize the poor moral of his crew.

Saru and Baron were plugged into amplifiers that were taller than Saru was; then tuned their instruments to a standard 440 A. They did it by ear, mostly using harmonics.

Stamets beamed in with a rather elaborate trap set. He had more symbols than the Klingon language had words for 'danger'.

Stamets was an accomplished drummer, he and Saru had never played together ever. Stamets didn't even know that Saru played, much less that he was really very good.

The crowds started to pour in; and there was a couple of hundred people there, in almost no time whatsoever. The trio played around with a few movements to get in synch together. Saru took the lead, as a good bass player should, "Ok gentlemen. How about I lay down a bass line and you follow?" Baron and Stamets nodded, "G minor, mode 3."

Stamets hit the snare drum a couple of times. This was an inside joke among bands. Drummers didn't care what key they were playing in; so they just banged on the snare and pretend like they were in tune.

The haunting melody that followed was both empathetic and emotive to the crew of the Discovery, her captain, and the officers who commanded her. The crew stood, sat, and slouched and listened. There were no words but the music touched them. It created sympathetic harmonics over the defeat of the rescue mission, and the loss of the hostages. Saru had planned it that way; he led Baron on the guitar and Stamets on the drums like a sheppard with his flock, and made it look easy. After about a long seven minute interlude Baron look at Saru and touched the 2nd strings tuner. Saru smiled and nodded. So did Stamets, although he didn't know what it meant.

Baron tuned the second string down to B flat, and then they switched to B flat major, mode 3. The music continued its resonance with the audience, but it shifted to hope, and resolve. It affected the crew the same way the spores affected Ripper. Lorca noticed; and smiled a hopeful smile for the first time in a while.

Legendary fighters from ages past had, in fair numbers, been accomplished musicians; even from King David and before even him. The crew of the Discovery was seeing that now in the trio that jammed like they were brothers. All they needed was a singer. The number of 'need a singer' VanHalen jokes were extremely funny; but only if you knew why.

Tilly who was thoroughly enjoying the whole thing almost to the point of making all the other happy people there look down right depressed; was approached by Lorca. Tilly spoke up, "Ya know, I think he'll fight with the same level of artistry that he plays the guitar. But he kills because there is a war going on and there is a job to do. He plays guitar because he loves it."

Lorca agreed.

The jam session went on for the better part of two hours. Lorca was relieved to discover that the shuttle bay's air boss, had recorded the whole thing. It was truly a classic scene from time of war; an experience that reminded tired and bitter soldiers that there was something worth fighting for; and it gave them the underlying feeling that while the enemy was planning their victory parade; they were preparing a serious comeback.

Payback is like a warped neck on a guitar it's a bitch.