Chapter Ten
Agony and Ecstasy
The Imperial Battle Cruiser Enterprise came out of warp and took a position three quarters of a kilometer off Dartmouth Station. The installation resembled a huge sphere from which a dozen spokes projected. There were four spokes extending from the 'equator' at 90 degree intervals, four above and offset by 45 degrees to these and four at similar intervals below the middle level. These 'spokes' terminated in airlocks to which visiting ships could dock while conducting their commerce. There were five airlocks already occupied by vessels of varying designs.
"The Station is transmitting a welcoming hail," Hoshi announced. "They report all the supplies we requisitioned are ready for pick-up. We are to use Bay 3." Bay 3 was one of the upper level docks, allowing plenty of room for the huge ship, a full 90 degrees of circumference from any other on that level.
"Inform them the supplies will be off-loaded by transporter. We have an assignment and will have no time for docking."
Hoshi passed along the message, a moment later confirming "We have the transport coordinates."
Forrest activated the intercom circuit on the right arm of his chair. "Commence transport."
"Major, are your assault forces in place?" Forrest asked after he broke the circuit.
"Yes, sir." Reed replied crisply. "I have all five teams prepared to beam to key positions, and I have the docked ships targeted."
Forrest didn't turn away from the viewscreen, but he thought Reed's manner was just a little too pleased about the upcoming action. "Commander T'Pol, life sign readings?"
"I detect 947 entities aboard, from numerous races."
"Captain, transporter room confirms all supplies are aboard, and that the boarding parties are on the pads. Dartmouth Station wishes us success in our mission.
Forrest took a deep, silent breath and held it for a long moment before letting it out just as silently. "Mister Reed. Begin."
xx
Sergeant Travis Mayweather and the three other MACOs in his team materialized on one of the promenades, this one clearly doing a brisk business. There were numerous stores, apparently offering a vast selection of materials. He thought one could purchase anything in the cosmos one needed right here.
Surrounding him and his team, unnoticed by them, were more races than he had ever seen gathered in one place. There were Manarkians, Tellarites, Bajorans, Sularites, Capernians, Vulcans, Sindasians, Ventaxians, Boleans, Tumarans, Deltans and scores upon scores of Terrans. Two Valderite children dashed past him, their voices high with excitement as they dashed through the huge open space. It had probably been months since they'd gotten outside the cramped limits of whatever ship they rode upon.
Travis and his team hefted their phase rifles, each taking one quadrant of an imaginary circle. At his signal, they opened fire.
Screams erupted through the promenade as bolts of death leaped to unsuspecting targets. Bodies fell; others noticed the danger and tried to escape, to be cut down as they ran. Travis and his team continued to fire.
Shrieks filled the air as unarmed males and females tried to flee, and were cut down in the maelstrom. Travis continued to fire, not allowing himself to see living beings; men, women or children, just targets. He missed nothing.
Piercing cries of panic rose to deafening levels as men, women and even children, stumbling over still bodies, were hit, fell and did not move as Travis and his team continued to fire, missing nothing.
Pleas for mercy went unheard in the cacophony as Travis continued to fire, missing nothing.
xx
Captain Maximilian Forrest couldn't take his eyes off the huge viewscreen as five rapidly expanding fields of metallic debris marked the grave sites of five ships whose crews, if they were aboard, had certainly been caught off guard, stowing supplies. Those crews not killed with their ships….
"Progress report." Major Reed called his Captain's attention. Forrest didn't look at him.
"What 'progress'?"
"Our teams report they are meeting virtually no resistance. The promenade fell immediately. The teams are moving through the station, but the few armed personnel they encounter are completely over-matched by our forces." Forrest tried to keep his thoughts from showing on his face. "Starfleet is getting the clean sweep it wanted."
"Are they, Major?"
"Yes, sir." The officer's tone bespoke vast satisfaction
Forrest realized his left fist was clenched tightly about the pommel of the dagger at his belt, and very carefully relaxed his grip. "I think, Major, that you enjoy your work just a little too much." It was not the first time he'd thought it of the man.
"Yes, sir." Reed said, even more pleased at the recognition.
Forrest didn't look back at him. He had all he could do to keep his thoughts from showing on his face, wondering how Reed would feel if he were to suddenly stand up and empty his own phase pistol into the man.
x
But he knew this was only stage one. "Major, recall two teams. Have them man the pods and deal with those on the planet's surface. Tell them not to bother landing, just annihilate the people from the air. They are not to damage any of the facilities more than necessary."
"Aye, sir."
Maximilian Forrest didn't leave the bridge as his orders were carried out. To do so would have been to run, and to dishonor those who were dieing because of his orders.
No, not his orders.
Starfleet's.
The Empire's.
Not his.
xxx
Phlox beamed aboard Dartmouth as soon as he heard that the shooting was over. The dark Denobulan was not there to render aid. That was the furthest thing from his mind. He already knew that everyone on the station was intended to die, by order of the Empire, so even if he found anyone that hadn't been killed outright by the MACOs, he wouldn't render aid of any kind.
His interest was purely in satisfying his own curiosity and desire to collect interesting subjects for his experimental explorations. He only wanted to continue learning about the anatomy of a multitude of races, though not even in the event that he might actually come across members of that race that he was supposed to help.
He considered that prospect very unlikely, in fact. His interest was purely in providing sufficient numbers of subjects for his hobby.
x
Looking about the carnage of the main promenade, where bodies still lay where they fell in panic stricken flight, he sought out the more interesting specimens. He felt no empathy or compassion for any of the beings scattered about, red blood mingling with blue, purple, orange and a host of other shades. Dead all, they amounted to nothing more than test subjects, and fell into only two categories: interesting and uninteresting.
He stepped over to a small pile. The morgue had a capacity of fifteen, so he had brought fifteen transporter tags. He would attach one to each of the bodies he selected, and that body would be transported directly into a cell in the morgue, to be preserved there until he was ready to explore it.
Seeing a Kartaxian male of about 19 years - as that species rated its maturity it was about middle aged - he attached a small disk to the back of its right appendage. He activated a control on it, and the body disappeared in a scintillating display.
Any corpses he passed up would be stacked in the forward end of the nearest airlocks by the MACOs and other crew assigned to the detail. When the process was finished, just before Enterprise warped out to resume its normal routine, the airlocks would be opened and the hundreds of bodies within would be evacuated into space.
x
Phlox had made his way about the main promenade and had just knelt down beside the body of a Capellan woman, her long blonde hair spread over her like a shroud where she lay face down in a pool of blood, when a MACO Corporal came over to him.
"You about done, Doctor?" The dark woman asked.
He looked up at her. "Almost. Why?"
"The Captain wants to pull out. We're done here and on the planet. We even have all our supplies and plenty more to boot."
"All right, I'll be done shortly. I've got twelve specimens, this makes thirteen. Just two more to go."
The MACO shook her head. "Uh, uh, Doctor. You know the rules. Captain says you can use up to two thirds of the morgue. We need it for real casualties among the crew. That gives you ten. I'm afraid you'll have to toss two back."
Phlox stood up, irate. "This is outrageous!" He didn't raise his voice, letting his anger come through in his tone. It was useless to raise it anyway; the woman was used to invectives that would blister bulkheads.
"Whatever," she replied, unruffled. "We warp out of here in fifteen minutes."
She turned and headed back to the rendezvous point with her team. The way before her had been completely cleared of bodies. Phlox stared after her, silently hoping the impertinent woman would soon be in need of his assistance.
Bending over, he activated the tag on the Capellan woman, beaming her body to the morgue, and set out in a fast search for his last two specimens.
xxx
Major Malcolm Reed strode into the Sick Bay, infinitely satisfied. The operation against Dartmouth Station had been classic, and the destruction of the ships docked in the various airlocks had been excellent, as had the mopping up procedure on the surface. Though he could have wished that one – or more – of the ships could have mounted some sort of defense, just to make it interesting, he couldn't complain about the result. All five ships had exploded quite satisfactorily indeed, and he could just imagine the astonishment felt by those on the surface when the shuttle pods had started shooting.
He wished he could have been there.
Phlox looked up at Major Reed as he entered, the impermeable gloves on his hands were covered in rusty orange blood and a half smile sketched on his face. Before him, on one of the diagnostic tables, was the body of a Draylaxian female, distinguished most notably by her three breasts. Phlox had the torso below those breasts spread open and was exploring. "What can I do for you, Major?" he asked, barely glancing up from his exploration.
The tone was not exactly wholeheartedly welcoming, but when had Reed heard such since boarding Enterprise; or indeed any ship of the Imperial fleet? He had never spent much time around the alien Doctor, but he wondered briefly if the Denobulan ever smiled.
No matter. What he had in mind, he was certain, would make the Denobulan grin. "I have a proposition for you."
"Really?" Phlox was not impressed. He glanced up at the Tactical Officer. "I must caution you; you're not my type."
Reed tried very hard to restrain his disgust. "This is about an idea I had a few days ago. Tell me; is it possible to use energy waves or some electronic means to stimulate the pain receptors in a person without touching him?"
"Eminently possible. Would you care for a demonstration?"
"Thanks, maybe later," Reed said, not sure he wanted to follow Phlox's line to its conclusion. "Here's what I have in mind…"
xxx
Ensign Ann Anderson walked next to but still a half step in front of the MACO Corporal who had summoned her from her quarters to those of the ship's First Officer. The dark woman behind her kept her eyes constantly moving, scanning for any danger even as she escorted her charge to the Commander. She didn't care why she had been ordered to bring the tall woman from Tactical, only that she had and so she did. Whatever the Commander's business with the Ensign was, it was none of hers.
Reaching the First Officer's quarters, so distinguished by the ubiquitous Imperial emblem of sword piercing the Earth, this one only an inch smaller than the Captain's and larger still than any of the others on the ship, she greeted her fellow guard already on post outside the door with a perfunctory nod. The other soldier pressed the annunciation button, and a moment later the door opened.
Ann Anderson entered the inner sanctum of her Commander, the door closing behind her. He stood in the center of the room, his eyes regarding her coolly, his uniform crisp and neat, resplendent with his medals, black sash, weapons belt and Commander's bars.
For an instant her eyes flickered, as they always did, to the lighted panel at her right. Upon it was displayed a staggering variety of weapons, each in some way indicative of the man before her. She wondered which mood he was in now.
Stepping forward into the room two sharp paces, she came to attention, brought her closed fist sharply to her left breast, then that fist extended out to full length toward him. "You wish to see me, sir?" she asked formally, knowing the answer long before.
He reached out for her, pulling her close. "Always." His open mouth met hers, their hands clinging to each other's bodies, searching intimately through uniforms designed to hide nothing at all before he reached between them, catching the zipper on the short blue top of her midriff uniform, pulled it all the way down and with left hand pulled the halved material aside. Her bare breast pressed against his uniform, and she reached to tug the other side away, being careful not to hurt her sensitive flesh on his medals.
xxx
"An interesting theory." Phlox told his visitor some time later. Usually there was little about Malcolm Reed that impressed him, but this time was different. "We'll want to build an enclosure so that the effect is contained and concentrated on the subject, and does not spill out into the surrounding observers."
"What about overloading the nerves? That's a real problem with most forms of discipline. Eventually the nerves just don't feel anything anymore."
The dark Denobulan waved it away. "That's easily resolved. The effect wouldn't be generally spread throughout the body, but would be focused sequentially on particular nerve clusters. When those nerves have been so thoroughly stimulated that they can no longer transmit the sensations, the system should automatically shift to a new junction, giving the previous ones time to recover. A synaptic scan of the subject can identify the best points to focus on, depending upon the species." He stopped, giving a moment's thought.
"It might even be possible to incorporate the instrumentality into a portable unit, possibly for use on a single select junction. It would be bulky, but possible. I'll give it some thought."
"In the meantime," Reed asked, "how long would it take to devise a full size unit?"
Phlox shrugged. "Oh, I couldn't possibly say. In theory, it can be done. Probably take weeks, however. How quickly the Empire technicians can create…"
"Our technicians." Reed said firmly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm not just going to just hand over this idea to Starfleet," Reed declared as if the point were perfectly obvious to an infant. "If this works, we'll install it on Enterprise. After it is tested and perfected, I'll consider selling the method."
Phlox paused, considering. "Sell…"
"What do you think? Care to go half on being millionaires?"
Phlox considered his prospective partner. The idea didn't strike him as particularly appealing. He had little use for money, at least of itself. But there were things money could buy. Or people, come to that. There were some appealing Denobulan concubines he'd had hard times getting out of his mind since his last Leave. "Well, the Imperial way is to make one's fortune from other people's pain. Why not do so literally?"
"I like the way you think, Phlox."