Disclaimer: A large portion of the characters and settings in the
Transformed series are based on Michael Jan Friedman's Star Trek: The Next
Generation / X-Men crossover novel "Planet X", and are used without permission.
This is done solely for entertainment purposes, and is not intended for profit
or to undermine the fine work of Friedman, Paramount or Marvel. The X-Men
belong to Marvel. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Picard, Crusher, Troi, Data,
Ogawa, Barclay and the starship Enterprise belong to Paramount. The
other characters are either original or characters from the novel (and thus Jan
Friedman's) that are expanded upon here.
Historian's Note: This takes place in late 2374, approximately one year after "First Contact" and corresponding to the DS9 episode "Time's Orphan".
The
Transformed
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Nikti Eilo (Transformed female
from Bellos)
Commander
Deanna Troi, Ship's Counsellor (Human/Betazoid female from Betazed)
Commander Beverly Crusher, Chief
Medical Officer (Human female from Copernicus City)
Lieutenant junior grade Alyssa
Ogawa, Head Nurse (Human female from San Francisco)
Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Human
male from France)
Bakro Psid (Xhaldian male from
Bellos)
Corporal Onjia Wasd (Xhaldian female
from Verdeen)
Lieutenant Mireem Sesmak
(Xhaldian male from Verdeen)
CARGO SHUTTLE BOHR,
EN ROUTE TOWARDS U.S.S. ENTERPRISE
THE NEXT DAY
Nikti Eilo watched in amazement as the final white wisps of Xhaldia's atmosphere dissipated and faded away outside of the shuttlecraft's port window. Beyond the shuttlecraft stretched out an interminable starscape of such depth and size that Nikti felt almost claustrophobic in the small, crowded shuttlecraft.
The other
people on the shuttlecraft were Transformed like her, on their way up to the Enterprise for the operation that would
reverse the genetic transformation that the alien Draa'kon had seeded into
their genetic codes when they were mere foetuses. Nikti couldn't resist
sneaking a peek at her shipmates, even though being a Transformed herself she
knew she shouldn't be staring. Especially at this one individual whose muscles
seemed to be bulging out of his skin. Because of cramped quarters of the
shuttlecraft, the man was hunched over, making him look like a primate from the
Voulsian jungles.
The
majority of the people on the shuttlecraft bore no exterior signs of their
transformation, like Nikti herself. Still, appearances were deceiving. Nobody
could guess from looking at Nikti Eilo that she possessed the bizarre ability
to absorb energy from her surroundings. No one would be able to tell that those
abilities had gone out of control, and that she'd nearly killed her twin
infants by absorbing their body heat.
Nikti
shook her head to clear the memories, and returned to her stargazing. Thinking
about that was irrelevant, now. Soon, she'd be back to her old, normal self
again. That's what this trip was for, after all. And everybody on this shuttle,
no matter what their physical deformities, no matter what strange powers they
possessed, shared this desire.
Nikti had
heard that there were Transformed who had refused to undergo the operation, who
wished to remain the way they were – she'd even met two of them, by the Blood
of the Ancients. Nikti couldn't fathom why anybody would purposely choose to stay Transformed. The fact
that alien monsters are there cause of the transformation aside, being
Transformed would mean being alone. Being isolated from the rest of society,
because one was so radically different that their abilities were feared – and
rightly so, in Nikti's opinion, when one considered what she'd nearly done to
her own children. And that had been accidental, so imagine the damage that
could be caused by a mutant on purpose. The thought of criminal Transformed
rampaging in the streets was enough to send a shiver down anybody's spine.
Nikti
heard their pilot talking to his ship. "Enterprise,
this is cargo shuttle Bohr requesting
clearance to dock."
"Bohr, you are clear to dock in shuttle
bay four," an inflectionless voice came over the comm.
Nikti
glimpsed the ship they were heading towards for the first time. She couldn't
help but be impressed by the overall sleekness of the vessel. Due to energy
distortions in Xhaldia's atmosphere that prevented subspace communications, her
planet had never really become interested in space exploration until first
contact was made with the Federation forty-seven years ago. Xhaldia had no
space-faring vessels, and even their atmospheric craft were blocky in
comparison to the state of the art Sovereign-class starship outside the window.
The pilot
smoothly brought their shuttlecraft into the open shuttle bay, landing without
so much as a jolt. A hiss was heard at the back of the shuttlecraft, and the
door descended, turning into a ramp leading down onto the shuttle bay deck.
Nikti followed the other Transformed out.
There
were four humans in gold uniforms waiting for them. "Could I have your
attention, please?" the one in lead called out. When the Transformed had
quieted down, he continued: "We are going to be heading towards sickbay now.
For security reasons, we ask that you please stay with the group and please
touch nothing. Simply follow the guides."
Two of
the uniformed guards turned and began walking towards the shuttle bay exit.
After a moment's hesitation, the Transformed followed suit. Hanging towards the
back of the group, Nikti noticed that while two of the guards were leading the
way, the other two – including their apparent leader – were following the
Transformed. Nikti got an uncomfortable feeling of being caged. The Transformed
were being watched because you never knew what might inadvertently trigger one
of their powers. Hence the need for guards.
It was a
situation that Nikti was eager to remedy. She didn't want to be under the look
of guards or security cameras all the time. She just wanted to get back home
and have a calm, normal life.
After
what seemed to be an almost interminable series of corridors, the Transformed
were place in narrow, cylindrical spaces that the humans called turbolifts. One
of the guards went up with each group of Transformed.
"Sickbay," the uniformed man said once the doors had closed. Nikti felt
a slight lurch, and suddenly the cylinder was moving. At least, Nikti assumed
it was moving. The lights on the side kept shifting, but Federation technology
was so refined that she couldn't detect any motion.
The
turbolift stopped and opened up on yet another corridor, but this time they
only had to walk a few meters before they arrived at a set of double doors that
opened with a whisk as the guard approached.
Inside
was a large, round room that seemed to have many other rooms attached to it.
There were beds dispersed in a rough circle along the edges of the room, and
some had already been taken by the Transformed who'd arrived here previously.
They were sitting on the edge – save for that one individual who looked so
heavy that he'd probably break anything he sat on – and looking around the sickbay
uncertainly.
The guard
gestured to a set of free beds, and Nikti sat on one of them. She watched as
medical personal went about their business with a cool efficiency. Twice now, a
Transformed had been taken into an adjoining room, and twice that individual
had been returned to this one, sleeping or unconscious, resting on one of the
beds, a monitor over their heads displaying vital signs in an alien language.
Nikti was beginning to get nervous.
She'd
also noticed a raven-haired woman in a blue uniform making rounds with the
other Transformed, talking to them quietly. The woman disappeared into the
other room for a few seconds, and then returned into the sickbay's main
chamber. She looked around briefly before walking confidently over to Nikti.
She crouched down next to the bed, bending her knees so that Nikti was looking
down towards her.
"Hello.
What's your name?" the woman said warmly.
"Nikti.
Nikti Eilo."
"Well
Nikti, I'm Deanna Troi, ship's counsellor. Pleased to meet you."
Nikti nodded in reply. "When you say
counsellor… is that like a listener?"
"I'm not
sure what that position entails, but I do a lot of listening. How are you
feeling?"
There was
something about this woman that made Nikti want to open up. "To tell you the
truth, I'm a little nervous."
"That's
quite understandable," Troi said. "Nobody likes to have to undergo an
operation, especially one as pivotal as this one. But I assure you that our
medical staff is the best there is."
"Oh, I'm
sure," Nikti said, maybe a little too quickly. With all the technology she had
seen since coming aboard, Nikti wondered what kind of miracles the medicines of
this culture could perform. Then again, they were reversing her mutation, and
that was a blessing right there.
Troi
smiled and said: "Actually, they're almost finished back there. I was wondering
if maybe you would want to go next?"
Nikti
glanced quickly at the two unconscious Transformed – or ex-Transformed, lying
on the nearby beds. Troi caught this look. "Don't worry about them," she said,
"They're just sleeping off the side effects. They'll be back to their old
selves in no time."
Literally, Nikti thought. The thought of
returning to normal made up her mind. "I'll go."
Troi
smiled. "Good. If you'll just come with me…"
Nitki
rose from her bed and followed the exotic woman into the other room. She was
greeted by some of the medical staff working there and asked to change into a
blue robe while they prepped the operation table for her.
When they
were ready, Nikti was made to lie on the bed. She gasped when two pieces of
metal seemed to rise out of the sides and over her body.
"Don't
worry," a red-haired woman advised her. "They won't hurt."
Nikti
nodded and tried to relax, taking deep breaths. The pieces of metal met each
other over her body's apex, sealing hermetically. They formed a half-cylinder
above her, making Nikti feel a little claustrophobic again. It was like being
inside a tube.
The
red-haired one asked for something from another attendant, and then walked over
to Nikti's side.
"You'll
be all better when you wake up," she promised, and pressed something against
Nikti's neck. Nikti heard a faint hiss, and suddenly felt very tired. Within
seconds, she had sunk into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
SICKBAY, U.S.S.
ENTERPRISE
IMMEDIATELY THEREAFTER
Alyssa
Ogawa took a quick glance at the bio-readings on the surgical monitor to assure
herself that the sedative Doctor Crusher had administered had taken effect. It
had worked on all of the previous Xhaldian patients, but considering their
unique physiologies it was better not to take any risks.
"The
patient is sedated, doctor," she said once the monitors indicated that the
Xhaldian woman was under.
"Alright
then, let's begin. Activate the molecular resonator."
"Resonator active," Ogawa said, turning the device on with a few keypunches. "Transferring her autonomic functions over to life support." The treatment that had been devised to reverse the mutation was extremely invasive, implicating that each and every cell in the patient's body be subjected to a radiation field to induce regression to an early state of being.
Crusher
had partly based the treatment on a synthetic and tightly controlled version of
Barclay's Proto-Morphosis Syndrome, a condition that had afflicted the Enterprise crew four years ago. Ogawa
still had disquieting memories of her time as a simian. Lieutenant Commander
Data had designed a retrovirus to counter its effects using the amniotic fluid
in her womb, protecting her son from the Syndrome's ill effects.
Ogawa
smiled faintly as thoughts of simians faded to give way to thoughts or her
family. She inputted the last few controls into the surgical cylinder above the
patient, double-checking that all life-support systems were functional and that
patient's condition was stable.
"All
vital signs normal, doctor."
"Good.
I'm activating the mitochondrial probe… now."
Ogawa
kept her eyes on the cylinder's readouts as the radiation field became intense
enough to pierce through the cellular membranes. Almost as soon as the probe
was initiated, she noticed a slight fluctuation in the power levels.
"Doctor?
There appears to be a power drain on the system."
"How
much?"
"Point
zero five."
"Make a
note of it. We'll contact Engineering about it later."
"Yes,
Doctor."
Once the
cells' protective layer had been breached, the radiation bombardment started
seeping into the Xhaldian's system, tweaking enzymes and causing the base pair
genes to resequence. Not even a second later, the cylinder began emitting a
short series of beeps to get Ogawa's attention.
"The
power drain is increasing. It's now at five percent . . . eight percent . . .
twelve percent–"
"Compensate!"
"I'm
trying. I'm redirecting power from the other sickbay systems but it doesn't
seem to be having any effect."
Above
them, the lights started to flicker.
"Abort!"
Crusher said, splitting her attention between her patient and the failing lights.
"I'm
trying. It won't let me access the controls. The power feed is blocking access
to all other systems. The drain is now at fifty-five percent . . . seventy
percent . . . ninety percent."
The
lights went out in sickbay, and stayed out this time. Ogawa could hear worried
exclamations from the crewmen and Transformed in the other room, but she paid
them no more than peripheral heed. For if all power was off in sickbay, that
meant–
"Quick,"
Beverly Crusher said, "help me get her out of there and over to the auxiliary
life support unit."
Ogawa
raced over to the storage locker by one of the biobeds. If all power to sickbay
was off, then it meant that the young Xhaldian woman was no longer on life
support. And since her autonomic functions were supposed to be regulated by the
computer systems, her body had been effectively shut down. Blood and oxygen
would no longer reach the brain, and it was only a matter of minutes before the
resulting brain damage meant that she wouldn't be able to be revived.
Ogawa
grabbed a pair of pneumatic handles from the storage locker, throwing one to
Crusher as she approached the surgical unit. Usually these devices were used to
open doors aboard the Enterprise when
the power was off-line, but in this case the two medics applied it to either
side of the surgical unit and pulled. With a few jerks, the cylinder split
apart and descended low enough into the biobed to give Crusher and Ogawa access
to their patient.
"One,
two, three, lift!" At Crusher's signal, the two woman picked up either end of
the robed Xhaldian and quickly moved her over to a mobile, old-fashioned
gurney, being careful not to worsen her situation while still acting with all
due haste. They rolled the gurney over to the auxiliary life support unit,
designed to run on it's own battery power for circumstances just like these.
As Ogawa
activated the auxiliary, she heard phaser fire coming from the next room. She
figured that the guards had had to put down some of the Transformed that he
been getting too anxious from the blackout. Either that or one of the
Transformed, reacting out of fear, had managed to seize a phaser from the
guards and was firing. Either way, it disturbed the physician in her to have
sickbay turned into a battleground.
"She's
hooked up, but I'm not reading any brain activity."
"Cortical
stimulator," Crusher ordered harshly.
Ogawa
grabbed the small medical device from the tray next to the surgical bed and
applied it to the young woman's forehead. The round stimulator automatically
bonded with the patient's skin as the auxiliary life support unit stridently
beeped at the medical personnel that they were losing her.
Under
normal circumstances, Ogawa would need only to use the nearest medical console
to trigger the cortical stimulator, but none of the consoles in sickbay were
operative. Luckily, field training at the Academy's medical branch had covered
this kind of scenario, and Ogawa was capable of inputting the required commands
straight onto the tiny stimulator.
On the
auxiliary's display unit, the Xhaldian's neural patterns spiked as the cortical
stimulator delivered an electrical shock straight to the patient's brain, but
quickly flattened out again.
"Increase
the voltage."
"Yes,
doctor."
The small,
red squares on the stimulator flashed once as Ogawa manually augmented the
dosage of electricity, and then again as the stimulator delivered a second
shock.
"Again!"
Crusher said, splitting her attention between the medical tricorder in her
hands and the readouts on the auxiliary.
Ogawa
triggered the stimulator a third time. This time the young woman's neural
patterns spiked and diminished, but did not flatten out again. The auxiliary
was recording neural activity that, though definitely below the desired norm,
no longer indicated any danger of brain death. The patient would probably still
be in critical condition for a few hours, and would need close monitoring –
which would have to be done manually until the power came back on – but she'd
pull through.
Ogawa
sighed as the carefully constructed clinical calm all medical practitioners
developed to deal with emergencies gave way to the residual adrenaline rush
low. Another life saved, another death averted for now. The war against
humanoids' own mortality still raged on, but this battle had been won.
* * *
CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM, U.S.S. ENTERPRISE
AN HOUR LATER
"Warm
chamomile tea."
Picard heard the replicator hum softly as it produced the requested beverage. Crusher picked it up and walked over to Picard's desk, walking slowly so as to not spill any of her tea. Picard took a sip from his own tea (Earl Grey, of course), then set the cup down on the saucer and looked at his chief medical officer.
"So what
exactly happened?"
"It was
her mutation. The alterations that the Draa'kon seeded into their genetic
structures can cause anything from strictly cosmetic changes in bodily
appearance to radical reconfigurations of their internal workings. The genetic
structures of some of these individuals are a real mess, almost impossible to
make heads or tails of."
Crusher
paused as she took a sip of tea, letting the spice blend soothe her.
"Anyway,
once I had ascertained that her condition was stable, I tried to contact the
medical authorities on Xhaldia, but that was no help because no one has gotten
around to registering these people and logging in any special medical needs
arising from their condition.
"Instead,
I contacted the government building where the Transformed are currently being
lodged and, with Counsellor Troi's help, finally got to talk to someone who
knew the young woman. Apparently, whatever transformation occurred in her
genome, it gave her the ability to absorb light, heat, and other forms of
energy. When we triggered the mitochondrial probe with the radiation, her
immune system must have taken it as an attack – which it was – and triggered
her absorption abilities. On instinct, she began drawing power from the
surgical bed, unknowingly draining her very own life support systems. When we
tried to divert power to compensate, she was able to tap into the ship's power
supply, as you saw."
"Indeed,"
Picard replied tersely. He didn't like the idea that a single, unconscious
young woman could bring his ship down to its proverbial knees with a simple
reflex. He was on the bridge when the lights had begun to flicker, consoles all
around him going dark. Fortunately Data had been able to isolate the sickbay
systems before the Enterprise had been forced to turn to battery power. Picard
shook his head, having a hard time conceiving that a single person could absorb
the entire power of a Sovereign-class starship.
He'd also
gotten a report that the guards posted in sickbay had had to put down a large,
panicked, rampaging Transformed. They were able to react fast enough to avoid
any serious damage to sickbay, and the perpetrator in question was currently
sleeping off the phaser stun in sickbay, under the watchful eyes of trained
medical and security staff. Picard would have had the man sent to the brig, but
the Transformed's unique medical condition lead to the request that he be kept
in sickbay until they could be certain that there would be no additional ill
effects from the stun. Speaking of which…
"How is
the young lady?"
"Stable,
but we're keeping a close eye on her anyway. Luckily this 'absorption reflex'
ended once we took her away from the threat – the radiation field. Otherwise
she would have drained the auxiliary life-support, too."
Crusher
shifted in her chair, leaning forward over the desk.
"I've
conducted further scans, and they've lead me to believe that any attempt to
reverse her mutation would simply trigger the same response – and it's so
deeply embedded within her cellular structure that I can't even find the
biological cause for it, let alone a way to circumvent it.
"Jean-Luc, I'm afraid that we won't be able to help this one."
* * *
TEMPORARY TRANSFORMED
UNIT HOUSING, VERDEEN
THE NEXT DAY
There is no worse prison than one's own body. Even in the smallest of cells, one could move, stretch, even pace. But when that very prison was the flesh on your bones, there was simply no way to escape it. It was like having your consciousness grafted into the prison bars, allowing the prisoner to see freedom on all sides but unable to even budge in one direction or another. Even if it had been possible to pace the length of this particular cell, Nikti Eilo felt much too beaten down to feel restless by her "confinement".
She was lying on the bed in the apartment that had been provided to her by Xhaldia's government until she got her affairs in order. Considering her completely chaotic state of existence right now, she doubted she'd ever be within striking distance of reaching order and normalization once again.
Normal. There was a joke. She would never be normal again. Whatever hope of ever regaining her humanity and her past life that she had before was now gone. The operation aboard the Enterprise had failed. She would be condemned to be a Transformed until the end of her days.
She'd woken up in sickbay, feeling very weak. The last thing she could remember was the Enterprise's medical staff administering something to make her sleep, and then she'd awakened aching all over. Every time she tried to shift her body, it would send needles percolating through her muscles. She tried to speak out, but her throat felt raw and she couldn't do more than squeak. Finally, one of the orderlies in the blue uniforms had seen that her eyes were opened, and called out to another room.
The listener, the one whom Nikti had spoken to earlier and who had identified herself as Deanna Troi, came up to the raised bed. Her eyes were unnaturally dark but seemed filled with compassion. To Nikti, that was a very bad sign. Before the exotic woman even opened her mouth, Nikti knew that something had gone very, very wrong. She shouldn't be hurting like this after the operation; none of the others seemed to have been in any pain.
"Nikti, I have some bad news. In these type of circumstances, it's always best to go straight to the matter at hand, so…" She paused to take in breath. "Something about your transformation caused the sickbay equipment to malfunction. There was a power drain of the ship's systems, and you had to be placed on emergency life support. Our ship's doctor looked over the incident, and we won't be able to reverse your transformation because the problem would just repeat itself."
At the time, Nikti had been too shocked to react, but since that time the full emotional impact of what had happened dropped on her like a hovercar.
Nikti hadn't felt very weak for long. Doctor Crusher learned from experience, and had given her a spare power pack. Nikti had stared at it incomprehensibly for a few moments, and then figured out what was expected of her. Reaching out, she touched the power pack with a hand and opened herself to the tactile sensations it offered. The detail under her fingertips seemed to grow until her hand and the pack felt merged together. A feeling of warmth had spread through her as she drained the pack of its energy, her body metabolizing the power in order to restore her to peak health.
Afterwards, Crusher had said that there was really no reason for Nikti to remain aboard, and that she could return to Xhaldia whenever she wanted to. Nikti had opted to leave right away on the shuttle ferrying the Transformed – the ex-Transformed – back to the planet. Even though Nikti showed no outwards signs of her Transformation, the rest of the newly reborn Xhaldians must have heard about her somehow, because she noticed that she was being given rather wide berth for such a crowded shuttlecrafts, not to mention the occasional glances in her direction.
On Xhaldia, she made her way through the temperate Verdeen night straight towards the housing the government had set up for the Transformed, glad that nobody on the transport there knew who – and what – she was. For some reason, as she had drawn closer to the Governmental Quarter, she had felt a panicky sensation rise within her. By the time she reached the housing, she felt about to explode. She ran through the lobby, paying no heed to a guard who asked to see identification. Taking the lift up to the fourteenth floor, she felt an uncommon bout of claustrophobia that only served to heighten her anxiety.
The lift doors had opened, and Nikti dashed madly to her apartments, darting past a few surprised Transformed. Once the door was closed, the entire emotional backlash from the day's events had just come pouring out. Nikti couldn't remember what had happened very well – it was like a dream, or a fever – but there had been crying and plenty of it. Eventually, she'd drifted off to sleep, only to awaken the next morning well after the sun had risen.
She didn't feel like crying anymore – to do so would take up too much of her energy. The only thing she wanted to do now was lie on the bed, welcoming sleep if it came again, but knowing that simply not thinking would suffice. But she couldn't do that – not yet, anyway. She had a family, children, and she couldn't abrogate her responsibilities towards them.
Nikti forced her body to drag itself over to the small receptor terminal in the apartment. She sat in the chair in front of the screen, flicked the button to turn the power on, and inputted the number for her house in Bellos Province. As the words "Establishing Communication" flashed in green on the screen, Nikti tried to figure out what she would say to her mate when he appeared. By the time his familiar face set against the familiar backdrop of their room blinked into existence, Nikti hadn't even managed to string a sentence together.
"Yes? Nikti!" His voice was pleasantly surprised, soft with the warmth of love. "How are you? When are you coming back?"
"I–" Nikti started to say, but was forced to stop to choke back a sob. She had no idea what she was going to say anyway.
"Nikti, what's wrong?" Bakro Psid asked with concern.
"It didn't work, Bakro," she said, lower lip trembling. "The operation, I mean."
"You're still…" Bakro trailed off, but there was no need to ask what the rest of the question would have been.
Sniffling, Nikti nodded her head. On the screen, Bakro took in a deep breath, and his facial expression seemed chagrined.
"Nikti, I'm… sorry. This is really, really hard for me to say, but… as long as the doctors can't fix what's happened to you, I think it would be better for everybody if you stayed where you were. I mean, we really have no idea what this mutation of yours can do, do we? And we wouldn't want to put the children at risk. Again."
Again. That last word resonated through her body and soul like a scream in an empty cavern. She had nearly killed her own children, and now she expected to just walk back into her home as if nothing had happened? When this change that had caused the near-fatal accident was still with her, ready to rise to the surface of her being without warning and finish the job?
Nikti tried to hold back the tears, but this time without success. She thought she'd cried herself out the night before, but she felt as if the floodgates in her eyes had been thrown open again.
"I'm sorry, Nikti," Bakro said onscreen, looking remorseful. "But my first priority has to be the safety of the babies. I think it would be best for the children if you weren't around. Call me if anything happens. Goodbye."
The screen went black before Nikti had a chance to choke out some form of reply. She just stared at the dark screen until the stream of tears subsided to little more than a warm flow on her cheeks. But on the inside, the quaking only got worse. In many ways, she felt just like the inactive receptor terminal: dark and empty.
Bakro was right, of course. As long as she was like this – as long as she was Transformed – she would be endangering the lives of all those around her. Something had to be done about that.
There was a way to be free of the prison of the body, Nikti realized. Simply release the consciousness.
* * *
VERDEEN CENTRAL
SECURITY OFFICE
SHORTLY
THEREAFTER
Onjia Wasd sat before a pile of paperwork that could best be described as daunting. What was even more daunting was what those papers represented. There was nothing that incurred more paperwork in Xhaldia's Security Department than the loss of personnel, but Wasd would gladly fill out forms in triplicate for the rest of her natural life if it could bring back even one of her men whose names were now to be entered in the deceased field on the terminal screen.
It seemed like just a few days ago – an eternity, really – she had been thinking that her job was boring and wishing that something would happen. Well, something had happened all right. A full-fledged alien invasion to be precise.
Because of the intense magnetic fields in Xhaldia's atmosphere, the planet had to use booster satellites in order to maintain contact with their interstellar neighbours – not that there were all that many of them, it had seemed. Until a few days ago, Xhaldia had maintained friendly relations with the nearby Federation outposts and an unofficial policy of mutual ignoring when it came to the Breen.
Then the Draa'kon came out of a sector of space previously unexplored but thought to be uninhabited. And they had destroyed the booster satellites, so when their drop-ships began landing in the middle of Verdeen, Wasd had received no warning of the impending attack.
Verdeen's usual complement of guards and their volunteer reserves were immediately mobilized to counter the threat, but the efforts were never properly organized. Wasd herself had been unable to direct the resistance because she was at the head of the main complement of Verdeen's guard, having set up a blockade just outside of the Residential Quarter, unaware that the Draa'kon's goal in Verdeen was in the Old Quarter and the residential section of the city had never been in danger of the aliens.
Further adding to the complicated situation had been the presence of the Transformed in the Old Quarter, recently escaped from their incarceration at the Obrig fortress and apparently the goal of the Draa'kon's invasion. Fighting in the Old Quarter became a free-for-all between columns of city guard that had found their way to the alien drop sites, Draa'kon soldiers and the young but apparently quite powerful Transformed who had felt equally threatened by both the former groups. Later on, crew from the Enterprise and their strange friends had joined the mêlée, intensifying the battle briefly before the Xhaldian, Transformed and Federation forces in the city were able to band together and take out the Draa'kon. Luckily, all those with energy weapons were using stun settings.
Though a lot of people had been injured by shooting, hand-to-hand and even odder means of combat during the battle, the only casualties had come from just outside the city, where the fighting had eventually spilt out into the foothills. One of the Transformed – a Shupaar native called Rahatan Bearg – had began killing everybody in sight irrespective of their affiliation – Draa'kon, city guard, Enterprise crewmen and even civilians who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
These were the people whose names now floated in the computerized aether in front of her, taunting her with the spectre of failure. Rationally, she knew that there was no way for her to have anticipated the Draa'kon's plans and that defending the Residential Quarter had been the best option with the knowledge available to her, but it still didn't stop her from wondering if there had been some vital clue she had missed, something that would have allowed her and her troops to move into the Old Quarter and possibly save those who had died that day.
A slight tone stirred her from her brooding, and she twisted the dial on her desk to active the receptor terminal. The face of Mireem Sesmak, a lieutenant under her command, currently filling in for Afio Banevern who still hadn't reported in from his mission to Obrig, greeted her. He was a competent and studious officer, if somewhat lacking in creativity.
"Corporal, we have a situation that I felt warranted your attention."
"Yes, what is it?"
"There's a woman in the window of the building used to house the Transformed. It looks like she's thinking of jumping off."
Wasd blinked in surprise. Suicide attempts weren't usually enough to warrant the attention of the city security chief, and Sesmak should have been able to handle this himself.
"What's the problem?"
"Well, we've set up the protective layers at the base of the building, so if she falls she won't go splatter against the streets, but…" Sesmak seemed to hesitate. "Well, we followed standard procedure and tried to stun her, so that she would fall."
" 'Tried to stun her'?"
"That's the problem. Every time we shoot her, she seems to just… absorb the stun bolt."
" 'Absorb the stun bolt'?" Wasd was beginning to feel like a parrot, and didn't like the feeling of confusion one bit. On screen, Sesmak shrugged and said:
"I assume it has something to do with her being Transformed."
"I'll be right down."
Wasd switched off the receptor, saved the work onscreen and rose from her desk. Quickly, she rode the lift down to the garage and hoped into a hovercar. She entered the coordinates of the building where the Transformed were being housed and let the autopilot guide the craft through the streets.
Wasd shook her head as the buildings flew by. Someone who was resistant to stun bolts? An ability like that could pose a serious threat to security, even accidentally. And she'd seen for herself what could happen when a Transformed used his or her abilities with malicious intent. She'd have to look into the situation, and any possible solutions, at a later time.
She arrived in front of the temporary housing unit and the hovercar slowed to a stop. A crowd of gawkers and rubber-neckers had already assembled at the base of the building, held back from the probable impact zone by city guardsmen, staring up at the young woman. She was dressed in a soft blue robe that fluttered in the wind, hands braced on either edge of the window.
Wasd spotted Sesmak and approached him.
"Report."
"The protective layer is in place, but as long as she's conscious I can't guarantee that she might not be able to find a way to steer her fall away from it, or anything else that could cause serious injury or death. We've got men in her apartment, but they're afraid that any attempt to rush and grab her would just cause her to jump. And of course, the stun bolts are completely ineffective. Short of increasing our rifles' power settings – and even that might not work – I think we have no choice but to try and convince her to get down."
"Great. Where is the listener associated with the Security Department? Shouldn't he be doing the convincing?"
Sesmak shifted uncomfortably. "We contacted Dr. Soltsik, but he refused to come. Said that it was too dangerous."
"Because the young lady in question is a Transformed, no doubt," Wasd said, eyes narrowing. Sure they posed a security threat, but you'd think that a listener of all people would be willing to reach out to one of them – or at least do their job. "Make a note that I want him fired. Can we get another listener here?"
"I've sent out calls to the Psychology Department, but the closest one with experience in this kind of situation is an hour away."
Wasd looked up at the young woman hanging from the window of the fourteenth floor, robe rippling in the wind. What could drive someone to such lengths? Was it a side effect of the Transformation?
"By then it might be too late," Wasd observed. "I'm going up there myself. Keep it under control at this end."
"Yes, Corporal."
Wasd strode towards the building, nodding at the guards keeping others out. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted what looked like an Xhaldian, only he was all purple, bald, and had bulging veins. Another one of the Transformed who was temporarily living here. Idly, Wasd wondered just how many of the other, seemingly normal people in the crowd were actually capable of bizarre feats of power – such as absorbing stun bolts.
She took the lift up to the fourteenth floor, easily determining what direction to go in by the presence of city guards in the hallway. She reached the Transformed's room, and waved away the two guards at the entrance, keeping a wary eye on the young woman. As they moved back into the corridor, Wasd took a few tentative steps forward into the apartment.
"Hello?"
The young woman turned to her. If there were any exterior signs of the Transformation, Wasd couldn't see them. However, from the redness of her eyes and the wet traces on her golden cheeks, Wasd could tell that she had been crying.
"Hi," Wasd said in what she hoped was a friendly tone but actually come out sounding apprehensive her ears. "My name is Onjia Wasd. I'm the head of the Security Department here in Verdeen."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to cause any trouble."
Wasd wasn't too familiar with the psychology involved here, but she was pretty sure that self-blame was something she'd want to avoid when dealing with someone a shove away from a fourteen-story plunge.
"No, it's no trouble at all. Really, I was bored." Wasd flinched inwardly almost as soon as the words had left her mouth. What a terrible thing to say. Maybe she should have waited for the listener after all.
The young woman turned away from her and looked back out the window.
"Wait!" Wasd said, afraid that the simple head movement was a prelude to something more. "Uh, what's your name?"
"Nikti. Nikti Eilo."
"Good, good. Now, would you like to tell me exactly what's wrong, Nikti?"
"I went up to the Enterprise," Nikti said in a deadened voice. "They were supposed to be able to reverse my Transformation, but they couldn't. I'm stuck this way."
"Well… that doesn't mean that you can't still live a full and worthwhile life. There are plenty of people right here who have elected to remain Transformed. Maybe you could talk to them, ask them what they plan to do."
"But they wanted to be Transformed! I don't want this life!"
"It's not like you have much of a choice!" Wasd snapped. "Life is filled with challenges, that's what makes it interesting. It is overcoming these challenges and reaping the rewards that make it worth living."
"This is not who I am," Nikti said, taking her hands off the sides of the window to look at them. Wasd didn't like the way she seemed to totter as she did so. "I'm just some freak created by aliens."
"Yes, they messed with your genes. Yes, you might have been intended to be a weapon. But you don't have to be a weapon. You are Nikti Eilo, and your life belongs to you, and you alone. Not to some aliens. The Transformed helped beat back the Draa'kon from Verdeen. They rose up and took their lives into their own hands. You also have your life in your hands now. But if you step out of that window," Wasd said, taking a step forward, "then all you are doing is letting the Draa'kon win."
"But… I can't be with my family anymore."
Wasd swore to herself. That complicated things.
"There's no reason why not," Wasd told her, taking another step forwards. "It's not like being Transformed is infectious or anything."
"Don't you understand? I'm dangerous! If I can't control myself, I could hurt somebody!"
"I'm part of the Security Department, remember? I've been trained to fight, and even to kill if necessary. If I lose my self-control, then I can be just as dangerous. Anybody could. Self-control is something that you can be taught, very easily."
Nikti shook her head. "It doesn't matter. They don't want me. My mate says I'm too dangerous."
Wasd could think of a few equally unpleasant things to say about such a man at this point, but refrained herself and tried to switch tracks. "Your Transformation doesn't have to mean the end of your life. Think of it as a new beginning. A new chance. A new life."
"I don't want a new life," Nikti said, actually sounding irritated. "I want my old one back. Before any of this happened."
"We'll contact your mate, see if we can't work out some kind of arrangement."
Nikti spun away from the window, jumping off the sill and quickly crossing the remaining distance between her and the older woman. She grabbed Wasd by the front of her uniform, and Wasd had to marshal all of the self-control she had mentioned earlier to squash the reflex to fight back.
"Haven't you been listening?" Nikti screamed point-blanc. "I almost killed my babies!" Wasd saw something imperceptible break across Nikti's face, and the expression of rage seemed to melt into one of grief within the space of an instant. Suddenly, the grip on her uniform was not that of a belligerent holding an enemy, but of a confused youth desperately holding on to life. "Blood of the Ancients, what kind of monster have I become?"
Nikti's legs seemed to give out beneath her, but Wasd caught her shoulders and gently lowered her to the carpeted floor. The Transformed was racked by wave after wave of emotion, sobbing softly. Kneeling next to Nikti, Wasd felt a burning hatred for those who would do this to someone who was only twenty-two. If the Draa'kon ever showed up again, they would have a lot to answer for.
Wasd held on to the crying form of Nikti for what seemed like quite a long time before she finally spotted a listener and a medic come through the doorway. As the medic prepared a sedative, Wasd spoke once more.
"Nikti, whatever happens, we will find a way to work through it. They may not be able to reverse your Transformation now, but they might in the future. Just live your life day by day, and never give up hope."
"Day by day," Nikti whispered softly. Then the medic slid the needle into Nikti's arm, and she closed her eyes, drifting into sleep.
Wasd knew it was probably too soon to tell, but she thought that Nikti had been saved the moment she'd stepped away from that window, even if in anger. Perhaps passion really was the flavour of life. Wasd didn't think the young woman's troubles were over – not by a long shot – but at least now she would know that there was someone she could turn to. As long as she wasn't alone, there would indeed still be hope.
Endnotes: The next two
issues will be mostly set-up filler leading up to the "relaunch", if you will,
of events on Xhaldia.