Title: Rescue Run

Author: Lady Rheena

Genres: Alternate Universe, Action/Adventure, Romance

Rating: R

Disclaimer: If you recognise it from a fandom, I probably don't own it. That includes the world of The Matrix, all its characters and the concepts it entails. The idea of the Fleet and the Planetary Coalition are technically my own, but you'll probably recognise bits and pieces from various sci-fi media.

Chapter notes: Sorry, I think under the circumstances a little Council session is warranted. It's not like women carrying space-age gadgets drop into the dock every day. At least I'd assume they don't.

Part 5­- The Council

The room they put her in was by Fleet standards barely big enough to swing a cat. But since cats were unheard of in Zion that didn't pose a problem, and Dena was too used to being cooped up for long periods of time in compact Makauly fighters for it to bother her. There was a guard either side of the door outside, and food and water were brought in at regular intervals. For the two weeks she was thus confined she prepared a full report on Zion and Terra based on her current knowledge as she had gleaned it from Link. She doubted very much that anyone would ever get to read it as a report, let alone Commander Pryce, but it gave her something to do and also enabled her to put her thoughts in order.

On the sixteenth day the door opened and one of her guards escorted her into a lift which plummeted down a good two or three kilometres to the very bowels of the immense city, which to her thinking closely resembled a beehive structure, buzzing with people who accepted their incredible circumstances with nary a complaint- but then of course to them her everyday life would have seemed incredible, she had to remind herself. Eventually she found herself in a half amphitheatre-like room, seated at a table on the ground level with Lock on one side and a guard on the other. At another table sat three people she didn't know; one attractive chocolate-skinned woman with an unmistakeable air of authority about her, a small, compact man who appeared to be of oriental descent and a stockier man with pale skin and startlingly bright blue eyes. The rows of seats that ascended behind the tables were empty save for one, where the four crewmembers of the Neb were seated on the second tier up. Arranged on a long table at the front of the room sat twelve more elderly men and women. This, she supposed, was the much-vaunted Council that governed Zion. Civilians, every one. And with a man of Lock's military inclination she'd have liked to see some of the butting of heads that undoubtedly went on in this chamber. As she sat Lock discreetly pushed a small scrap of paper meant for her eyes. In his hand was written let me handle the talking until I signal you otherwise. That got her attention and also alerted her to the fact that if there were sides being drawn, he was on hers. Lacing her fingers together on the table in front of her, she gave a barely discernible nod when his gaze flicked into her direction. He returned it and then rose.

'Councillors, twelve days ago I brought to your attention the arrival of Captain Dena Reese on the Nebuchadnezzar, and the claims to her origin that she has made.'

'Claims which you believed unlikely to be proven, Commander,' observed one of the council.

'At the time sir, that is true.'

Dena's heart gave a leap. They found the Mari!

'After consulting with Captain Reese on the precise location of her…landing, I ordered the Logos to investigate the area on the surface.' He glanced at the other table and Dena noted the way the female caught his eye. Liaising in the ranks, Commander? she thought with some amusement. Yet the woman was undeniably quite beautiful although there was a sternness in her eyes that belied more than a pretty face. Although she had yet to hear her speak, Dena decided that she liked her.

'Captain Niobe, will you please give the Council the same report you gave me yesterday?' Lock sat down as this Niobe rose. Captain Niobe, Dena thought. Well…there stand I.

'The Logos was directed to grid area four-two-three by one-four-six on the surface,' Niobe said in a strong, clear and confident voice. 'We were instructed to concentrate our search scans for an unfamiliar titanium composite alloy. It was unusual enough to be easily located, and we brought back a sample for the labs to analyse.'

'Do we have the results of this analysis?' asked one elderly woman wearing an elaborate hair fastening who was seated directly in the centre of the table. Niobe glanced at Lock and received a small nod before continuing.

'Yes, Councillor. The alloy is completely unknown. It contains isotopes of titanium that have never before been found, as well as traces of several entirely new elements.' She fell silent as the Council exchanged muted whispers amongst themselves. One of them spoke out.

'Commander, I would like to see a copy of that lab analysis.'

Lock merely nodded and the lieutenant seated on his other side made a note as Niobe went on.

'We landed and entered the ship on foot. We found it to be a one-man craft consisting of a narrow cockpit with several plasma display screens and a complex set of what I believe to be navigation controls. The ship appeared to be completely unarmed except for some grenades and other unusual devices in storage lockers built into the rear compartment. The design, both interior and exterior, was like nothing I've ever seen. Clearly it wasn't a machine ship, but it wasn't one of ours either. It looked like it was designed to fly, but the engines were contained to two tight nacelle-like structures on either side of the main fuselage. We were unable to determine how they functioned.'

'In your estimation, Captain, had the ship undertaken a crash-landing?' asked another silver-haired man thoughtfully.

'I believe so, Councillor. There was extensive damage to the hull including some carbon scoring that looked like it was caused by a direct electrical discharge. We also found several hundred metres of tracking on the terrain that would seem to indicate a skid halt on the ground.'

'Thank you, Captain,' the woman with the hair-piece said.

'Councillor, if I may?' Upon a nod Niobe turned to the oriental as he passed her a cloth-wrapped bundle. 'In addition to the scans and holographics we also detached this from an internal bulkhead.' Stepping out from behind the table, she walked to the front of the room and deposited the object in front of the older woman, who unwrapped it curiously as the captain returned to her place and sat down.

Dena chanced a glance back at the Neb's crew. Morpheus was intent on the proceedings, leaning slightly forward with his chin in his hands. Neo was similarly interested although in a more relaxed pose, and Trinity leaning lightly against his side. Link seemed to find the whole thing somewhere between fascinating and mind-boggling, but he caught Dena's eye and gave her a small wink.

By now the metal plate, whatever it was, had been passed along and each councillor had seen it. Finally it reached the woman at the centre again and she finger the edge thoughtfully before reading aloud.

'LHS Mariposa Built Phobos Orbital Shipyard Launched September 18th 2956.'

'Is this the Phobos that orbits the planet Mars, Captain Reese?' asked the man who'd inquired earlier about the crash landing.

'It is, Councillor,' Dena said, battling to keep her voice level.

'You are in fact a traveller from that planet?' asked the woman, sounding somewhere between intrigued and disbelieving, not that Dena blamed her.

'Not a traveller, Councillor.' She glanced at Lock, saw his nod and rose. 'I was on a survey mission- aerial reconnaissance of Earth's moon. I experienced engine malfunction and was forced to crash-land here.'

'May we ask why you were surveying the Moon?' asked silver-hair.

'It was a preliminary set of sweeps for the fourth mission set to prospect for minerals there,' Dena informed him.

'Prospecting?' asked a coffee-skinned councillor. 'So you are some kind of mining engineer?'

Trying to ignore Lock's barely audible snort of amusement, Dena hid a smile.

'No sir. I'm a Fleet officer and first grade listed pilot.'

'First grade?' Silver-hair put in. He gave her a wry smile. 'Should we take that to mean you're one of the best?'

'You could put it like that, Councillor.'

'I see. So if this accidental landing can happen to one of the best it can presumably happen to anyone?' He was apparently the local wit.

'In theory sir, yes. But the flight path I was following is not one frequented by pilots of any grade. Fleet doesn't come near this planet much, Councillor. It's believed to be an empty graveyard and dead rock. Nobody where I come from even suspected there was any kind of life left on Earth, sir. Especially human life.' Deciding that a little genuine flattery wouldn't go amiss, she added, 'The odds Zion has defeated to survive here go beyond calculation, Councillors. An excellent testimony to the ingenuity and skill of your people and their leaders.'

The others seemed pleased by this although she noticed that same wry smile on silver-hair and made a note of his face as one she needed a name for. However that idea had to be pushed aside as the council launched into a full-scale interrogation, questioning her at length about the Fleet, the government, organisation, population and history of the Coalition. She answered everything honestly and as thoroughly as she could, but volunteered no additional information.

'Captain these weapons of yours…the grenades and suchlike…could you show our engineers how to replicate their design?'

'I wish I could, Councillor.' She'd been waiting for the question. 'But I'm a pilot, not a munitions expert. I can recite blast radii, after-effects and probable recoil on any weapon you care to name, but I'm afraid I can't build one. What I can do is find ways to improve the designs of your ships- make them faster, more manoeuvrable, easier to control. I'm a qualified flight engineer as well as a pilot.'

'Councillors,' Niobe interjected. 'We brought back everything we found in those weapons lockers on the Mariposa. Perhaps the engineers could take one or two apart and rebuild them backwards.'

'I wouldn't advise that, Councillors,' Dena countered. 'Some of those weapons are nukes. Someone pokes something in the wrong piece of circuitry and you're going to end up with a nasty impromptu barbecue. It might be a feasible option for the flash grenades and maybe a lasgun, but beyond that I'd rather not be held responsible for something going wrong.'

'Commander Lock, please investigate the possibility,' hairpiece said. 'Will we have your assistance as far as you are able, Captain Reese?'

'Of course, Councillor. We're all humans here.'

They did like that.

'Just one final question for today, Captain,' silver-hair said. 'Will your people come looking for you, and whether they do or not would it be possible to contact them?'

'They won't be looking for me, Councillor. As I said, to the Coalition Earth is a dead zone. I'd be presumed deceased the minute the Mariposa entered the thermosphere. And it's absolutely impossible to contact anything from the surface with that electrostatic cloud layer in place. All that would get through would be static.'

He nodded.

'Then it appears you are stuck with us, Captain. Life here may be a far cry from what you're used to but I hope you can find it in you to adapt to our ways.'

Hair piece nodded agreement as the entire council rose, apparently signalling an end to the audience.

'For what it's worth, Captain, I believe you have kept your head impeccably under extreme circumstances. Thank you for all your assistance- and all you will no doubt continue to render.'

The others nodded and filed out to a door on the left, talking quietly amongst themselves. Dena took a deep breath and sat down, letting her eyes blur. She'd gone through the entire interview as she did any debriefing, on a kind of automatic pilot, but the last few things she'd said suddenly reappeared to smack her on the chin.

Stuck here.

'Captain.'

She looked up sharply to find Niobe standing in front of her. The dark-skinned woman held out the bulkhead plate she'd retrieved from the front table.

'I think this belongs to you.'

Dena took it and ran her hands over the inscription, trying to hold herself together. But her eyes filled, and Niobe's face gradually softened until it became nothing more than a hazel blur, whereupon she closed her eyes and it vanished completely.