Chapter 21
USS Hood
When the Hood dropped out of warp just before coming into the orbit of the planet Rota, Caine's armada of ships was nowhere to be found.
"Damn. They must've gone into warp under 30 seconds ago."
"That many ships warping away together at once is unheard of. We've never seen it before."
"I've seen plenty of things happen before that I thought I'd never see," said Riker. "That's why I don't get complacent."
"Scan the surface for the anomalies identified by my report," ordered Augustine.
"Several similar anomalies detected," said McKnight. "Apparent mining operations, sir. Energy readings are also anomalous."
"Is the planet surface safe or not?" Augustine snapped.
"Affirmative...radiation levels are not dangerous."
"Can we tell what they're mining down there?"
"Negative."
"Doesn't matter. Mining operations are what we're looking for. Commander, you have the bridge," Riker said, getting up from his chair.
Alisha Augustine bristled. "Captain, I respectfully object to you going down there. It is-"
"Too dangerous?" Riker's solemn expression broke slowly into a grin. "Commander Augustine, I know you're just doing your job, but you don't have to worry about me. Your investigation led us here to Caine, and I trust in you fully to get us all out of here safely on my signal. I'll beam up as soon as I learn something helpful."
He waved at McKnight at Ops as he passed by. "Lieutenant Commander, you're with me." Chief of Security Michael Chen already stood waiting near the turbo lift with two security officers. Riker stepped inside, his heart beating with familiar intensity. "Let's go."
About 30 minutes earlier
Just as they came into orbit around Rota, a surprising thing happened. A small but fast ship came screaming out of the atmosphere toward the Assassin's ship. Just before a near collision, it changed course and sped off.
The pilot's gloved fist slammed sideways into the panel quickly and there was a hissing noise. The deep voice of the Romulan computer spoke a brief, garbled message.
"What did you just do?" Samla questioned, still contained by a force field in the navigation area.
"I'm tracking that ship with a sensor probe. For later."
"Where are they going?"
The black helmet tilted away as though annoyed. " If I knew, would I need to track them? "
"But you know who's flying that ship...who is it?"
"Someone who needs to die," came the passionless reply.
As the ship began to descend sharply into the planet's upper atmosphere, the force field suddenly shut off. "Go pack your bags." The Assassin removed one of several holstered guns and offered it to Samla.
She took it without a word, but out of appreciation for the parting gift, Samla leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of the helmet.
USS Enterprise in Cardassian territory
Wesley Crusher sat inside his dark office contemplating the gravest problems of the galaxy. "Do you know why I called you here?"
"To this ship, or to your office?" T'Sara stood calmly, her hands hung loosely at her sides.
"Why don't you just answer both questions..."
"I served in various positions aboard the previous Enterprise-"
"This is the Enterprise," Wesley snapped his interruption. "The one and only."
"I see. Well...I served as the science officer on board this ship, and possess expert knowledge in its operating systems."
"And you are an expert astrophysicist," said Wesley.
"Yes."
"And so, as an astrophysicist of the highest caliber, do you think that this vessel has the ability to travel to the nearest galaxy?"
"The ability is there, however, the mode of travel through the transwarp conduit continues to remain unstable. This ship has a forty-nine percent chance that it will be destroyed and a seventy-two percent chance that it will be thrown off course. If that occurs, the time it takes to return to our own galaxy will exceed the course of our natural lives."
"So we're fucking doomed, is that what you are saying? That you have no faith in me to get us out of this?"
T'Sara comprehended the question but decided to pause before replying, as the boy's temper continued to escalate. "The project is rushed due to circumstances out of your control, Wesley. Without the time to carry out additional tests, Cardassian cooperation will be integral to-"
"We don't have any time," he shouted, slamming his fist onto the desk in front of him. "And we don't have the goddamn Cardassians anymore, either." His face dropped forward into his palms for a moment, and she could recall seeing Captain Picard momentarily frozen in such a posture more than once. Gradually, he lifted his gaze to her once more.
T'Sara faced Wesley squarely. "Have the Cardassians withdrawn their offer to permit our use of the transwarp conduit?"
Wesley's eyes began to water, and he rubbed them angrily. He couldn't tell her everything. Couldn't tell her what he was planning. She wouldn't understand, and neither would Geordi. "It's not their conduit, and they have no right to prevent our use of it."
"We are deep in Cardassian territory, Wesley. There are other considerations."
"They want another war," said Wesley. "They're clueless. Don't they see the galaxy is imploding? Can't they see they'll be dead too?"
"I cannot speak to the motivations of the Cardassians, Wesley. But you must not allow them to provoke another armed conflict."
T'Sara noted that Wesley's anger simmered silently for a few more moments. Geordi had been right; the young man was volatile, shifting from mood to mood in an instant. Whether he was under the influence of a substance or other outside force or was suffering from a mental illness she could not be certain of without the chance to examine and diagnose him. What she could be certain of was that he was suffering.
"Based on the current circumstances, I comprehend the many pressures you are under."
He laughed coldly. "Do you? Really? Oh... that's right. You were ship's counselor as well. Well, you can bet that I didn't bring you here for that reason."
"I also recognize that the news of your father's death is significant."
"To everyone else...but not to me." The statement was made flatly, without obvious emotion.
"Then why did you attempt to prevent news of his death from reaching this crew?"
"News from the outside is a distraction...it won't help us reach our goal. Besides, the fact that he's dead doesn't bother me. At least I don't have to live under his shadow anymore."
"Denial is common among grieving humans-"
"I'm not grieving," he interrupted. "Don't patronize me, and don't try to psychoanalyze me." Wesley sat back in his chair, just watching her. "Now...let's talk about the other reason I wanted you here."
She lifted her eyebrows quizzically.
"Don't play coy," he said. "It's not convincing coming from a Vulcan."
When she remained quiet, he clenched his jaw and continued. "You've been hacking encrypted intelligence files for months, T'Sara. And now I find out you're communicating with people off-ship?"
She nodded. "That is correct."
"Who?"
"I cannot say for certain."
"You were Tasha Yar's girlfriend...can you say that for certain?"
She tensed visibly and shifted her stance. "No."
"Then why are you gathering intel on her life? Why are you obsessed with a dead person?"
The statement was not inaccurate. She looked down at her hands. "I do not know."
Wesley suddenly broke into an odd smile. He pointed at her. "I'll give you this...Tasha Yar is a fucking legend. Hell, she almost killed me a few times and I still admire everything about her. So, I can excuse your little infatuation...but I want to know why, and I needed to keep you close to find out your motives. What's your end game, T'Sara?"
"It is personal," she admitted. The truth was, she was confused about her own motives. She had begun an investigation of Ishara's whereabouts with little intent other than to find out if the young woman was still alive. Based on the information she had gained from the detention facility records, Ishara had died in prison. Knowing that Caine had been a prisoner in the same facility at the time, had somehow locked in her aim to find out more. It was during that time that she had made contact with the man claiming to be Tasha and Ishara's father, Erik Yar. She could not tell Wesley what her end game was, because she didn't really know what she was doing, or why she was doing it.
Wesley's face contorted with unexpected fury. "You don't have a personal life when you're on my ship. Now, are you aware that I could have you prosecuted for tampering with secured files?"
"Yes."
"Then why..."
"I am researching her life. I feel that I owe that to her."
Wesley grew still. "She's dead, what could you possibly owe her now?" He watched as the Vulcan woman glanced away. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Look... you're not going to find anything. There's just a handful of people in this galaxy who knew Tasha before she was brought back. The reality is that even though she caused a lot of destruction by using the Borg to attack humanity, most people had no idea that she was behind it. And they certainly didn't know about the Q. Now, everyone knows, or thinks they know about the Q, but they don't really. They're just being fed information, the kind of misinformation Intel wants out there."
"You are an Intelligence officer. Do you not share the same desire to misinform the public?"
Wesley got up. "This ship was found floating, all systems intact, after crash landing on a planet. Do you find that strange?"
"Such an occurrence is... unexpected."
"Oh...well, you know what it tells me? That those odds you threw at me aren't even a fraction of it. This ship was destroyed and has been brought back to life. And soon you will see that there is nothing it can't do."
Rota
Another dusty planet. Samla clutched the disruptor and small backpack of supplies and walked down the ramp of the small ship. About a minute ahead of her was the Assassin, who had walked out of the ship at a quick but almost casual pace toward large metallic spires, which had been thrust into the dry landscape. If she followed the Assassin, it would take her another five minutes or so to reach the mining area. But the dark figure's last words to her had been, "don't follow me". Samla was curious, but not stupid. The Assassin was walking into a trap, that much was clear, and moreover, wherever the Assassin traveled, death also arrived, and Samla didn't want to end up being another dead body, lying in the dust of some backwater planet.
Shielding her eyes from the glare of a setting sun, she could see what appeared to be a town in the distance. She began walking in that general direction. Maybe if she targeted the right villager, she could find a transport off of Rota.
Samla hadn't walked for long before she heard shots fired, and a green energy beam sizzled through the air over her head. Ducking, she began to run for her life; not for the first time, and hopefully not for the last.
The Assassin's POV
If Tasha Yar was actually alive, it didn't matter anymore. After all she had been through, she wasn't certain of what being alive actually meant, anyway. She had a single-minded purpose that transcended any physical or mental harm she would inevitably encounter. Caine, and his plans must be destroyed. She knew something of his plans, could sense them through her connection to the planet from which she had risen from the dead. The circumstances of this latest resurrection were not important, partly because there was no one to share them with. The brief experience with the Orion had solidified her view that the less company the better. Rarely did she think of her old life. The memories were so jumbled anyway, that it didn't matter. She didn't have any special power that she knew of, and yet she had the ability to know what Caine intended to do, and would do anything in her power to stop him. Her intellect was superior to others, she was aware of that. Always a step ahead, she could build any weapon necessary to keep going perpetually, if necessary. She had built for herself a suit of armor, that helped her body regenerate when injured. It wasn't perfect, and the result was nearly constant pain from regular injuries. Nevertheless. there was a balance that needed to be restored, and if she continued to disrupt Caine's activities, she would unlock the key to stopping him forever. Compared to her need to achieve these aims, the pain was nothing.
The gravity on this planet was low, making movement easier. As she approached the mining equipment, she pulled out a small tricorder she had repurposed from some wreckage. Still walking, she glanced at the tiny screen and noted that radiation levels were growing.
Caine had found a pocket of something alright, but it wasn't his usual quarry. Steps needed to be taken immediately to avoid total disaster. She pulled out a device quickly and placed it on the ground. Pulling out three more, she tossed them so that they encircled the mining apparatus. She backpedaled just far enough away, as the mining tubes disintegrated into the air in front of her. A band of white-hot energy whizzed past her face, and for a moment she thought she might have miscalculated. But then she realized that it was another threat entirely. Instinctively she rolled out of the way, ducking behind a small boulder.
She hit a sensor on her wrist and scanned the area. There were only two attackers, but they were heavily armed. The Orion Samla was running adjacent to them, headed for the small alien township.
The first blast had been a warning. The second obliterated the rock she had been hiding behind. But a perimeter warning inside her suit had given her the split second she needed to dive out of the path of white hot energy. She immediately knew that the weapon was different. Devastating. Firing several disruptor blasts back at the charging enemies did nothing to halt their momentum.
The first man was Caine. She could tell by the way he moved that it was him, although his face was covered by a greyish helmet. He wore an awkward, heavy looking metallic vest and at the center of the vest was a spot of white hot energy. She felt no rage, not even anger; just recognition that she needed to at least wound Caine, so that he could eventually be destroyed.
The second figure was tall and muscular. Possibly Orion, but also shielded by grey armor. The second attacker was armed with an energy weapon similar to Caine's, but fashioned into a rifle. He fired several bursts at her, but his aim was lacking. The weapons were not perfected. Yet. For now, she had the advantage.
She stood with her feet wide apart and lifted her fist, letting go a stream of black smoke from her wrist. A diversion. When her opponents arrived at what they thought was her location, she had already moved behind them. She tossed a small charge and it rolled between the two men. They quickly realized where she was, but the charge went off sending currents of blue electricity into their metal armor.
The Orion dropped first, writhing in agony and trying to remove his suit. She fired two blasts at him, which his armor deflected, before she turned to Caine. He had fallen to one knee and had removed his helmet. His cold stare no longer affected her, no longer brought back memories of childhood trauma.
"No...Tasha," he whispered, recognizing her despite her impressive disguise. "You're dead," he declared as though his eyes were deceiving him.
"Join me," she said, firing a grappling hook directly at his head. A wire wrapped around his neck, and she yanked mercilessly, sending him spinning in the air toward her.
She let go of the wire and ran under him as he flew overhead.
Caine landed face first in the dust with a thud. Advancing on him she quickly assessed that there was a split in the back of his armor. She pulled a fan shaped razor sharp blade, and threw it with a whirlwind spinning motion. It lodged in his shoulder blade, and he screamed with rage. Turning onto his side, she was partially faced with the bright white ball of energy emanating from his torso.
She was suddenly flooded by an unexpected, foreign invasion. For the first time in memory, she felt emotion. Sadness, and fear. But it wasn't coming from Caine, and certainly wasn't coming from her.
She staggered backward from the force of the encounter. Of course Caine didn't waste any time capitalizing on this moment of weakness. He focused his energy weapon on her without mercy. The burst of energy washed over her, and she had the sensation of drowning in an ocean of flames.
Phaser drawn, Will Riker watched a quick ship disappear from view as it climbed out of the atmosphere. He turned to his officers and the familiar person he'd never expected to see again. "Was that Caine?"
Samla nodded and brushed some dust off her coat. "Yes, that was Caine...and his scumbag right hand man." She grinned up at Will. "Never thought I'd see you again, Riker."
He laughed. "Likewise...but I'm glad we were both wrong."
"Sir," said Michael Chen, waving his phaser toward a smoking shape about fifty meters away. "Sir, there are faint life signs over there."
"Let's proceed with caution."
A few minutes later, Riker was standing over a black clothed individual who was at the very least unconscious.
Samla walked forward bravely and nudged the still figure with her boot. Riker grabbed her arm, but she shook him off. "You're not going to believe this." She knelt down and tried to remove the helmet, but it wouldn't budge. She thought she could hear the beginnings of raspy breathing from inside the mask.
Abruptly the armored hands flew up and grabbed the mask. The faceplate automatically withdrew to reveal a young and beautiful face, that seemed permanently etched with weariness.
Riker knelt down next to Samla. "Well I'll be damned...Tasha Yar."
A gloved fist was pointing a disruptor in his face an instant later. "Whoa," he said, getting to his feet and backing up slowly.
"Tasha, it's me ...Riker. Do you not remember me?"
Tasha struggled to her feet, still leveling the weapon at the Starfleet Officers. With her other hand she put her helmet back on, now moving away from them. The way she was dragging her leg made her status very clear.
"Wait, you're injured!" McKnight yelled towards the retreating Yar.
The gun was still pointed their way when the figure was enveloped in some kind of transporter beam, and disappeared.