I do not claim any characters from the Trek Universe, and am only using any named herein to tell a story meant for entertainment purposes only.
Star Trek: Lost Mare
By LJ58
5
"Tell me more of this….alien vessel," O'lyn demanded as he burst into Marcan's chamber. Or his prison, as he now deemed it.
"What do you wish to know, my lord," he asked blandly as he turned from the window, used to being so curtly approached, and questioned after the past few days.
"How large is it? What armaments does it carry? What weapons do they possess?"
"I know only what I saw, and what I was told. Dr. Slater told me it was about four-hundred thousand metric tons. She knew little of the tech behind it herself, as she was a doctor of anthropology, as she called her studies. As to weapons, I saw none, and none of the beings I saw carried a weapon," he said, deliberately leaving out the description of the security chief, or her peoples."
The advisor only scowled.
"Might I enquire if anything is wrong, honored sir," he asked when the man set to pacing, not replying to his response for a moment.
"They took the Prime," he finally grumbled.
"They…? Took him?"
"He was taken by that unholy light they employ to jump between spaces."
"Ah, the transporter."
"He has been gone for hours!"
"There is much to see," he told the man with a slight smile. "I was up there for some time myself, and still likely saw only a fraction of what there was to behold."
"That filly is to blame," O'lyn muttered. "We should have insisted upon hostages."
"Filly? Honey is here? She has returned?"
That did make him smile.
"They sent her back at our Prime's insistence," he spat, glaring at him as if it were his fault. "And she ensnared him with her honeyed words, and clever tongue. But I'm not stupid. If anything happens to our leader, you will pay for it, doctor. I'll see to it myself," he spat before leaving the room as suddenly as he had come.
Marcan stared at the closed door that slammed, and again locked behind the agitated advisor. Honey was back? She was here? He felt a surge of hope as he returned to his post by the window. Only now he looked up. And wondered.
Did she still think of him?
ST
"This is beyond wondrous," Ad'mm, the Prime told Ben Sawyer as the captain escorted him through the ship. Helen stayed close by at his insistence, as he much enjoyed the woman's clever wit, and obvious intelligence. Not to mention her beauty. "I cannot believe that such things even exist, and yet, here you are."
"There was a time in our world's history when we felt the same limitations, sir," Ben assured him. "We overcame them, and launched ourselves into space despite doubts, and doomsayers. We have come a long way. We hope to go much farther. And we hope you will be alongside us in the future. As you have seen, many races work together in the Federation. It is….a cooperative effort."
He nodded at the young male who led this impressive assemblage of males and females of many varying clans. They functioned efficiently and obviously effectively, and yet there were no signs of slave castes. No blatant worker castes as he expected. They all did what they did as if unashamed of doing common work one moment, or giving commands to others the next. It was a truly egalitarian society from what he could see. Despite the philosophers and advisors who claimed it could never work, it obviously did. Here, at least.
"I would much prefer to see more, but I've likely been away too long as it is. I've got troublemakers who would see that as opportunity to cause more alarm if I'm not careful. So, regretfully, I must return. I have much enjoyed this visit, though, captain."
"Anytime, Lord Ad'mm," Ben Sawyer nodded to him. "We'll be here at your disposal for a few more days now that we've arrived."
"It truly is an amazing vessel," he murmured. "Even our few airships are not quite so impressive after seeing this ship."
"We started with much less. Your time will come, too, sir," Helen assured him as they turned toward the transporter room.
"You're quite the lady, Dr. Slater. I can see why Dr. Marcan is so besotted with you."
"Marcan has spoken to you," she asked him, the interest obvious in her own soft voice as he smiled at her.
"Only recently. Remarkably, he held his silence all these long months, saying nothing until one of your diplomats told us that he could confirm their claims."
"He is a good man. He saved my life, you know."
"So I have learned. And you….haven't thought poorly of him for inadvertently transforming you as he did?"
"Why should I," she asked him. "As I said, he saved my life."
"You are a very remarkable young filly," he smiled as they entered the transporter chamber. "And a most lovely one, too. I'll give Marcan your greetings, if you wish," he asked her courteously before stepping onto the daïs without any fear.
"Please do. Tell him…. I remember him fondly."
"Of course," he smiled, easily reading the young filly's body language that said far more than her words. "Goodbye, captain. Again, thank you for your hospitality."
"Anytime, sir," the strange human nodded as the air began to hum around him again.
An instant later he was back in the middle of his own council chambers. The advisors were still present, and looking stunned that he could so easily come and go. "My lord," someone finally burst out. "Are you all right? Did they harm you? What did you see?"
The questions came fast and furious, but he merely smiled, and dismissed the council. "Forgive my tardiness, friends. I was….overwhelmed by my discoveries. Tomorrow morning, we begin the meetings in earnest with the Federation envoys. We have much to learn, my friends. Much to learn."
ST
Marcan turned when the door opened again. This time, it was Lord Ad'mm himself again. "I see you made it back safely, sir," he remarked, wondering what Lord O'lyn had to say now as the man lurked behind the Prime, glowering at them both.
"Dr. Marcan, I do regret necessity had us keep you secluded until we were certain of the truths being presented to us. We are now fully convinced, however, and you are free to go anytime you wish. Although, I'd like you to stay, and perhaps be our first….liaison with these new peoples."
He started to turn, then stopped and looked back with a faint grin.
"I would be greatly honored, sir."
"Oh, and Dr. Slater sends you her complements. She bid me tell you she remembers you quite….fondly."
"Truly," the doctor found himself smiling now. "That is…."
"Promising," Ad'mm asked him knowingly.
Marcan cleared his throat as he fought his own need to fidget. If he could, he would have blushed crimson. Thankfully, his dark gray coat hid any such reaction. "I am simply glad she is doing well," he drawled in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
"Of course. Well, good night, doctor. And thank you for your wisdom. Your words were much appreciated at the time. I assure you."
The leader of the Northern Coalition was gone before he could summon words for an adequate reply. O'lyn hesitated a moment to glare at him, then turned, and left behind his leader. Marcan barely paid him any notice. He was still feeling the heated arousal of knowing Honey still remembered him, and thought of him. Did he dare hope?
He barely even noticed when another aide appeared to escort him to a far more comfortable, and luscious suite.
ST
"I cannot allow it. Not yet, doctor."
"But, sir. There is still so much to learn," Helen complained. "And you know those diplomats are not going to….."
"Dr. Slater," Ben's gruff tone cut her off.
She sighed, and looked away, unaware that Ben's observation of her over the past few ten months had tipped him off on how to read her in spite of her changes.
When her ears flattened, her nostrils flared, or her tail moved, it all betrayed whatever she was thinking at times. Or how she was feeling.
"Helen," he sighed as they rode the lift to the command deck. "I can't pretend to know how you feel about….everything. But we still have our orders, and we still follow them. Right now, everything is in the hands of the diplomatic corps."
"The same ones that almost blew it twice now, because they didn't pay attention to a damn thing I recorded?"
Ben chose to ignore that one.
"Sir, if I could just talk to them…."
"And Dr. Marcan?"
"He…. Well, I….."
"Dr. Slater," he sighed, shaking his head. "You have your orders. Stand down," he told her curtly.
She actually snorted, glancing away, but he didn't miss the way her shoulders drooped, and tail echoed the posture.
"Yes, captain," she said, and left the bridge, wondering how bad the idiots she had briefed three times now would screw things up this time.
They were trying to force the Exanters to accept the Southern Coalition leaders as equals, and to her, that would be like forcing Terrans to have accepted Klingons as partners during those early days of contact. The X'terians might be the same race, but the cultural differences were too great to simply lump them all together for the sake of some alleged efficiency. The diplomats were creating another crisis, and she knew she had briefed them over this before, and yet they were again ignoring her.
Something that was happening a great deal of late since her genetic mishap.
Not that some of them paid much attention to a female in general. The Federation might have made some genuine advances in certain respects, but males were males, whatever the species, or the century.
Idiots.
"Something else on your mind, doctor," Lt. Myers asked knowingly as the woman glanced her way, catching her backward glance at the captain, who had already dismissed her.
Helen didn't even smirk as she said, "Not at all, lieutenant," she said coolly. "Just wondering who they'll try blaming this time when those clueless academicians end up starting a war, rather than ratifying a treaty?"
"Doctor," the captain hissed, but the doors had already closed behind her, and she muttered "Quarters," loud enough for the computer to hear her, and carry her down the ship's decks to her quarters below the command deck.
By now she had adopted a careful stride that kept her dainty hooves from sliding on the metal plating of the decks, but she was still slower than usual as she focused on her own thoughts as she headed for her quarters.
She walked past the sliding doors that opened for her unique bio-signature, and jerked off her tunic.
She finished undressing before stepping into the shower, and simply stood, letting the hot water flow over her body. The one thing she did miss on board ship was a nice, hot tub she could soak in. She had been on some ships that didn't even have showers, but a tub was a luxury she had learned to appreciate long ago.
Not just for hygiene, but just now, the relaxing quality would have been very, very welcome.
She loved her work. Truly, she did. Anthropology had been a calling long before Star Fleet had chosen to approach her after her work with the Valzyrian hive insectoids. Until then, she had been a university professor hired out for her expertise, very rarely leaving Earth except at specific requests.
A class friend on the colony that ran into the insectoids recalled some of her theories on interrelating species, and had called just for her when her colony had encountered difficulties with the local hives they had not even realized existed until miners bored into one of their tunnels.
The trade agreement she had hammered out after daring the hive alone to seek out the queen had so impressed Star Fleet that they had hired her for exploratory missions on new contact worlds.
Now, if only their ego-driven diplomats would actually listen to her findings once in a while. There were times, she had to admit, that she seriously considered giving up her commission. That was a thought that crossed her mind more and more of late. Even before Dr. Marcan had literally changed her life.
Stepping out of the shower after the allotted water had run dry, she used a dryer after wiping herself off as best she could, considering her entire body was now covered in hair. Brushing out her mane after her hair, a surprisingly soothing ritual she had come to enjoy after a time, she walked back into her main quarters to dress in a fresh uniform, and considered going up to the observation deck. Maybe visiting the lounge.
Only she didn't really feel like company just then.
Frankly, she wasn't sure what she felt like just then. Things were so…..confusing.
Seeing Marcan again had reminded her of certain feelings she suspected were stronger than first noted. Had her changes brought along instincts that came with the new flesh she wore? Or had her long life immersed in study finally proved to be emptier than expected?
Perhaps.
Her primary concern, however, was the idiot now demanding that The Prime approach the Southern Coalition, and unite their world properly before they continue the talks.
What a damn fool.
He might as well have tugged on Lord Ad'mm's tail, and tried to bridle him.
Some people, she knew well by now, should never leave Earth orbit. The current head of the envoy assigned E'osta was one of them. Harold W. Williams was a genuine idiot, and unfortunately, that was the idiot that Star Fleet had put in charge.
She shook her head, and finishing her grooming, she dressed for bed, and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
"Maybe it is time to reconsider this career," she murmured, and let her eyes close. Still, there wasn't much else she could do. She had appealed to Captain Sawyer, but she had accept that he had a point.
The Sojourner wasn't a diplomatic ship. It was an explorer. By the time she woke up, they would have broke orbit, and headed for their assignment. She sighed again, and rolled over, and wished there were something she could do. Only she was still just another cog in Star Fleet, for now, and that meant she had to follow order.
Just as Ben Sawyer had reminded her.
Even if they were stupid orders.
ST
"Shields," Commander Bolin shouted, half standing out of the command chair as he heard the alert go off, the shrill Klaxons filling the bridge with a near deafening wail.
"Two incoming objects, commander," the man at the helm declared, studying the scanners before him. "Scanners indicate two old-style fission missiles."
"Phasers, lock on, and fire," Frean Bolin, a half-blood from Andor shouted. "Lt. Lean, get the captain up here, now," he added in the same breath as the white-haired officer sat back down, eyes fixed on the main view screen. "Kuulan," he glanced to a four-armed Surianni, "Where did they come from," he asked, even as the screens lit up with the explosions that almost overloaded the filtering of the optics.
"One of the larger islands in the southern hemisphere, commander," the yellow-skinned, red-eyed science officer told him. "There are apparently a string of silos on the major islands around the primary southern continent."
"Shield status?"
"Not even a wrinkle, commander," Lt. Ion remarked from navigation. "There is a radioactive cloud of debris just to our starboard, though. Might want to radio the Carlisle and let Captain Rollins know about it."
"Make it so, Lt. Lean. Try to find out if they know why the natives are upset enough to start firing on us."
"Yes, sir," the lean, Hispanic girl from the Mars colonies nodded even as she turned to her console again.
"What the devil is going on," Ben Sawyer growled as the burly captain stormed the bridge, his tunic still half open, as he obviously entered at a fast walk.
"Someone just fired two fission bombs at us, sir," Commander Bolin told him. "Negligible damage, but there is a lot of debris left in orbit."
"Anyone know why?"
"We only know it was launched from the southern hemisphere, sir," the commander told him.
Ben finished closing his tunic, and sat down as Frean moved to allow him to take the command chair.
"Anything else?"
"We have contacted the Carlisle to warn them of the debris field, and request any information they might have on motivations. We have yet to hear…"
"Captain, message from Captain Rollins now, sir," she reported.
"On screen," he ordered.
"Ben," the lanky, almost gaunt man that appeared on the screen. "So, you spotted the missiles in time, too?"
"I have a good crew. What happened, Carl?"
"The Prime suggested that if Williams wanted the Southern Coalition to attend the talks, he should invite them personally."
"And that resulted in us being attacked," Ben demanded.
"We still haven't heard from Harry," Carl admitted, looking worried. "We did intercept two missiles aimed our way, though. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late to warn you. We're repeatedly tried to contact our people on the planet, but all four members of the away team are still silent."
"Get me Dr. Slater, fast," Ben shouted at Frean.
"Right away, captain," the man nodded, and glanced to nod at Lt. Lean.
"She's your local expert, right," Carl Rollins asked.
"Yes, and if what she tried to tell me earlier is right, the Southern Coalition likely just declared war."
"On who?"
"All of us," Ben spat. "The Northern Coalition, and the Federation!"
To Be Continued…
