Chapter 2 - The 267 Year Old Human
During an attempted rescue mission, the Marquida come face to face with Starfleet's latest and greatest technological marvel.
NOTE: The Marquis and Marquida in this story are not the same Maquis of the 24th century in canon Star Trek. Although they share a similar name and hatred for Starfleet, the word 'Marquis' is just a word that has been used multiple times throughout history.
TIME: The following happens several hours before the episode Context is for Kings. The Klingon war is in full swing and Burnham sits on a prison transport shuttle.
My characters...
Samantha Bex: 29, born in the year 1988, abducted in 2017 and displaced two and half centuries later on Donatu V. How she got there and how she managed to survive this Klingon infested planet is unknown.
Detective Kuade: 40ish, not his real name, Agent for the Department of Temporal Investigations. Has questionable motives and a bizarre fascination with Sam Bex. Claims he is assisting in her relocation to the 23rd century.
Charles Beauregard IV: 36, son of several decorated Captains, a drunk. He's a major frustration within Starfleet and struggles to follow regulation and protocol. Gloryhound with a death wish who knows Gabriel Lorca.
Loralee Roh: 22, Betazoid, ex-heiress to a powerful family. Living secluded in high society has atrophied her telepathic and empathic powers. She joined Starfleet in order to expand her worldview, but finds it overwhelming.
"Shields down to 80%!"
The USS Marqui skids across the stars straining its impulse engines. Tailing behind them is a Romulan Bird of Prey spitting plasma energy torpedoes at its black-clad mark. A bolt of plasma collides with the back end of the scout vessel causing its shield to light up and vibrate violently.
"Direct hit!" Bex grips her console as the cabin shakes from impact, "Shields down to 56%!" she reads.
"Divert all power to rear shields and rear torpedos!" Charlie directs in the seat at the communications and weapons console to the left of Bex.
Bex enters commands into her operations and scanner console.
"Firing torpedos!"
The Marquis returns fire at its pursuer. One torpedo hits square in the middle, while the other slips past the top of the Romulan craft.
"Their shields are down by 10%," Bex reads off her scans.
"Damnit!" Charlie curses, "Commander Roh!"
"She's going as fast as she can, Captain!" Roh hastily taps at her hull console at the front of the bridge.
"They're firing again!" Bex warns just seconds before the ship is hit.
"Romulan bastards won't give up," Charlie complains.
"Well, we did just steal from their weapon's hold," Bex reminds.
"Bridge to Engineering," Charlie switches on the intercom button on his armrest, "Bridge to Engineering, you gotta get those warp engines online!"
Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!
"I can't Captain!" Kuade pleads down in the engine room, "That would burn out our warp drives. The ship can't take it!" he runs over to a flashing red panel and slaps the screen to keep those annoying alarms from going off.
Whoo! Whoo! Wh-
"If we keep up this pace, the engines are going to blow!" he warns.
"This craft is capable of warp 8!" Charlie argues.
"Yes, but we're carrying well above capacity here!"
"How many escape pods do we have?"
"What? Uh.. four!"
"Well, we only need three. Get rid of the fourth!" Charlie demands.
"Wha-are you serious?"
"Yes! We need to make up the weight! Release the escape pod!"
Kuade darts his eyes a bit as he digs in his brain for the instructions on how to launch an escape pod from the engineering room. He refers to a panel on the back wall of the closet sized room and types in the commands.
"Warning!" the computer chimes in, "Launching escape pod at current warp levels will destroy pod. Warning! Launching-"
"Yes, yes yes! I hear you!" Kuade complains and launches the pod anyways. It shoots out uncontrollably from the tail end of the ship and crashes into the Romulan vessel causing a massive explosion.
"Their shields are down by %20!" Bex exclaims and the engines pick up.
"Power down our rear shields!" Charlie tells her.
"Wha... A-are you sure?"
"Yes, don't question me. Power them down!" he turns his attention to Roh, "Roh! Evasive maneuvers. Warp 8!"
Bex does as she's told and the engines kick a little harder. At the same time, Roh enters switches on the experimental multi-warp drive. The Romulan vessel falls behind and attempts to shoot out one last torpedo, but it misses and the Marquis blurs across the stars.
"They're no longer pursuing us!" Bex says excitedly.
"Good! Let's put some distance between us!"
After several thousand kilometers, the Marquis slows and returns to impulse engines. The inside of the ship smells like burning wires, and the lights on the panels flicker. The shell of the hull whines in complaint as the once pristine paint job has been more than buffed and burnt away. The crew takes a moment to catch their breaths and allow the ship to float gently with the stars of the Neutral Zone.
Charlie sighs, "Excellent work, team. Don't think we were supposed to survive that... Ughh... Let's get started on repairs," he says softly, "I'll let the Ferengi know that we'll be a little late for the drop off."
Bex sighs little harsh.
"I know you don't like it," he says to her, brushing his now chin length hair out of his face, "But maintaining this ship and her crew costs money, and Klingon weapons are at high dollar now thanks to the war. We gotta make ends meet even if it means stealin' from the Romulans."
Bex lays her head back in her seat and takes a deep breath, "I know. Cost of being Marquida."
He smiles and squeezes her forearm.
Beep beep beep!
"Hn? There's a distress call," Charlie notices an incoming transmission.
"Out here?" Bex questions.
"Yeah, about 30,000 kilometers west of us. Hold on, bringing it up," the Captain taps his console, "It's pre-recorded. Two days old."
A very fuzzy hologram of a humanoid face lights up on the viewscreen, "...please! Ssss... help... kksss! Vessel... ttzzz!" the recording is impossible to understand.
"I'll try adjusting the frequency a bit," Charlie mumbles to himself.
"Mm. There! It's clearer now," Roh assists.
"Please! Sss.. Send help. We are the passenger vessel H3T17. We were on route to Kazis IX in the Neutral Zone," the recording is coming from a young human woman, "My husband... my husband wanted zzzt... a shortcut through Klingon space.. Ssshh... crashed! Please, help us!"
"...it's a trap," Bex points out.
"Obviously, but who'd lay a trap way out here?" Charlie ponders.
"Klingons or someone after Klingons," Bex cautions.
"Could be Romulans," Roh suggests.
"Or maybe it's the real thing," Charlie gives his crew a sympathetic look, "Just a couple of dumb tourists needing a lift out of a war zone."
"They're too close to the Klingon-Federation border," Roh checks her map, "This is a direct violation of the Federation of Planets. They risk expulsion sending out that distress call."
"Hmm..." Charlie rubs his unshaven chin, "Death or imprisonment. Difficult choice. Do we have enough fuel to scout the crashed vessel and make it to the Ferengis for the trade off?"
"WHAT! Uh-Buh-Nnoo!" Kuade sputters over the comm system from below deck while he blunders his way around broken engines and overheated drives, "Absolutely not! Your little cat and mouse game with the Romulan's depleted our dilithium reserves!" there's a loud crash as some equipment explodes. Kuade ducks the sparks and continues with his rant, "Not to mention we're carrying almost 2000 kilos of illegal Klingon technology. The ship's too heavy! I'd be surprised if we even made it passed Ajilon Prime!"
"That escape pod we chucked weighed about 1800 kilos," Charlie replies cooly.
Kuade is silent on the line and makes new calculations, "UGH! You have... 30 minutes! At the most! Otherwise, we call a tow-ship," he finally answers exasperated.
"That's all we need," Charlie is satisfied, "Commander Roh, do you have the coordinates of that signal?"
"Yes, sir."
"Get us within range, 100 kilometers."
"Aye aye, sir."
The Marquis smoothly glides behind a large asteroid about 100 kilometers away from the wrecked passenger vessel. From there, the crew can see the carnage clearly from the view screen while remaining hidden. The crashed ship is a cool gray color and is very long like a femur.
"There it is. Some kind of luxury passenger vessel," Bex proceeds to dissect the scene, "Based on the spread of the debris patterns, the vessel's been out here maybe 3... 4 days? Looks like it collided with that asteroid field."
"Right," Charlie encourages, "Let's go to yellow alert, shields down."
"Would you like me to scan the vessel?" Bex offers.
"No. I don't want to alert them to our position just yet. Shut off the engines, too."
The Marquis is one-of-a-kind craft capable of evading almost all scans and radar without the need of an energy draining cloaking device. It's capable of reaching a warp factor of 8 when the time calls for such maneuvers, and despite its size, has a fully functioning transporter beam stage. The ship must be commanded in a way to make use of such features in order to be completely clandestine and uncatchable. Thankfully, Charlie and his crew are well practiced.
"Commander Roh, is this a good enough distance?" Charlie asks his pilot.
Roh smiles, "Yes, Captain. This will do."
"Proceed."
Part of the ships covert nature can be attributed to Loralee Roh, not only for her talents as a pilot, but also her psionic powers.
"Quiet on the bridge," Charlie and Bex power down their panels and screens. Roh takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and clears her mind. She feels her three crewmates; Charlie the maverick, Bex the jaded and Kuade the cipher, who tries his best not to be felt by constantly filling his mind with complicated formulas. Roh then feels for the passenger vessel hovering several thousand feet in front of her. For several minutes, all she feels is the cold emptiness of space. It stretches out limitless all around making her feel weightless and dizzy, but eventually, there feels a slight touch of warmth. If she could describe it, it would be similar to a small candle in the aftermath of a blizzard. She follows this warmth and then feels another warm presence followed by another and another.
"5 humanoids," she says allowed, "I do not feel distress or fear. They are alive."
"Good work, Loree" Charlie finally breaths, "That ship only has about 4 days worth of life support. We leave now, there's no hope for them," he says this more for Bex's benefit.
She has reservations, "I'm still not convinced that this isn't a trap."
"How convinced are you?" he asks, while leaning back in his chair.
"Fifty-fifty."
"Well, I'm a gamblin' man and I say those are pretty good odds."
"Are you kidding? You're the worst gambler I know," she frowns.
"You know my policy. As long as the odds are better than 20%, we go in and help whoever needs it. That's why we're out here. Why we left Starfleet; to help those that the Federation ignores," Charlie looks warmly at his first officer. He finds it odd that even though she was once part of that 20% on Donatu V, she still carries doubt when it comes to helping others in similar odds. He allows her to freely express any concerns she may have, not only as an exercise in her leadership but also in appreciation of pessimism's life saving ability.
Bex takes a deep breath, "We don't hail."
"We won't," Charlie agrees.
"Cloak and Dagger. We go in under their radar and secure the shuttle. Cut off any communications they may have with anything nearby."
"Absolutely," he smiles and crosses his arms.
"...I go in."
He tilts his head and purses his lips together, "You've done the last three away missions."
"This isn't a playground where we all take turns on the merry-go-round. The Captain stays with the ship."
"Don't use 'Captain' like that. We're all equal here. You, me, Loree and even you Kuade," Charlie addresses the whole ship.
"Aw, thanks," Kuade answers sarcastically over the comm.
"We are all vital to the proper function of this ship. No one's station is higher than anyone else's. I may have more experience than you when it comes to interstellar combat, but we all deserve to stay and go down with this ship."
Bex narrows her eyes at him, "Fifteen to Eighty-Five. Against."
"What's that?"
"Your survival odds."
"Ye have so little faith in me?"
"No, I have that little faith in that right hand of yours," she points to Charlie's hand that he tries to hide tucked under his arm, "It's shaking again. Has been for the past 2 weeks. I know you've been trying to hide it."
Roh, who quietly watches the two argue, looks down at her lap.
Charlie smiles weakly and nods his head slowly, "Side effect of sobriety, but I can manage," the girls are not convinced, "Ok. New proposition," he offers, "I go down and secure the passenger vessel. If this is a trap, wherever its mothership is will decloak. You beam aboard that one."
The Captain and First Officer study each other for a long moment, attempting to come up with the next best possible scenario.
"Uhh.. guys," Kuade interrupts over the intercom, "Just a reminder. The life support system still burns fuel."
"Deal," Bex agrees and she and Charlie smile at one another.
"Kuade!" Charlie addresses the comm, "Meet me down in the transporter room. Loree, monitor my vital signs."
"Aye, Captain," Roh nods.
Bex and Charlie leave the bridge and head down a very cramped hallway only 3 feet wide and 5½ feet tall. The ladders are Charlie's least favorite because the tall cowboy constantly scrapes his back against the opening.
"Arg! I can't wait to get off this damned thing and stretch my legs," he growls. The transporter room is a mere 8x8 foot wide and only has 2 small stages. Currently, only one of the stages functions while the other spews sparks, "What the hell is this? Kuade! I thought you fixed this!"
"I'm in the process!" Kuade yells from behind as he drags cables and tools into the transporter room, "That Teenaxi colony really did a number on the ship. Need I remind you, I am a theoretical physicist, not an engineer," The detective's hair hasn't been brushed in weeks and sticks up wildly in all directions. His once mustard colored coat has browned with grease after extensive ship repairs. He still speaks in that transatlantic accent, though thankfully, he's not nearly as pedantic.
"The transporters are working, right?" Charlie reaffirms.
"One still functions, because I am amazing," Kuade drops his supplies and begins realigning the transporter dishes.
"Good. Sam," Charlie turns to his First Officer and pulls a phaser off a weapons wrack, "Keep an eye on my vitals, if there are any changes, you switch on that long-range scanner and find the mothership."
"Yes, sir," Bex turns to leave but stops, "Be careful," she implores, placing a hand on his chest before returning to the bridge.
Charlie stands up on the one transporter platform not covered in junk and kicks off some overlapping wires, "The mess, Kuade..."
The detective continues adjusting pistons and he types in coordinates for the wrecked shuttle, "Okay, your drop off point will be towards the backend of the ship. The crew is most likely towards the main bridge where the life-support system is the strongest," he leans over to Charlie and adjusts the transporter dish one last time to ensure it is actually pointing right.
"Hey," Charlie catches him by the shoulder, "Just make sure I get all my molecules back, okay?"
Kuade nods several times and steps backs to the main control panel, "Energize!" the Marquis Captain's body beams yellow as a funnel of streaks spin rapidly around him.
"Captain off the ship," Kuade informs the girls as they wait on edge on the bridge. It's always tense when a team member is separated.
"How's he looking?" Bex asks Roh.
"He is safely aboard," she answers while concentrating, eyes closed.
"Are you getting a strong reading?"
"Quite strong," Roh smiles, "Our psionic bond is starting to rival that of my mother's," she admits.
"Really?"
"Yes. The effectiveness of my powers is dependant on many factors; the closeness of my relationships being one of them. Usually, the strongest bonds are between parents and children or lovers, but, these past months living with you all has greatly matured my abilities."
Living in such cramped quarters can force any mismatch of personalities to bond. The Marquis even lacks a proper Captain's quarter; just two sets of bunk beds crudely built into the hallway behind the bridge. Somewhere hidden within the hundreds of cases of illegal supplies and weapons hide a food synthesizer and a stand up sterilization chamber. Bex once dubbed the Marquis as the Space-Winnebago, though, not all of the crew could appreciate the joke.
"My link with you is also quite strong as well," Roh explains.
"Yeah? Even Kuade?"
Roh smiles, "He avoids me, but I do still feel him."
"I've been meaning to ask you a few things about him."
"I know you have, but I must warn you. He is quite the quagmire-," Roh breathes in sharply as her eyes begin to water.
"Shit. Kuade! We need that long-range scanner," Bex responds Roh's sudden change in temperament.
"10 seconds," Kuade answers over the comm.
"Ambushed... He's hurt," she shares in his pain, a consequence of her telepathic monitoring, "I feel... confusion. Anger," Roh explains frowning her eyebrows, "There's a familiarity there... I think it's... it's Starfleet?"
"Starfleet!?"
"Diverting all power to scanner. I'm pulling off life support to maximize the scanning distance. Hold your breaths," Kuade instructs.
The ship goes dark and the oxygen cuts off. Bex taps commands into her console and flips up a radar projection of the surrounding 100 AUs of space. In the center of the map is a large triangle denoting the Marquis. A ring bursts from this triangle as the long-range scanner begins its slow work of scanning for enemy ships. The crashed shuttle appears on the map next to the Marquis and the ring continues expanding out. Bex and Roh both watch eagerly as the ring slowly stretches, wider and wider picking up the presence of asteroids and nebula until it reaches the edge of the map.
"... there's nothing!" Bex exclaims.
"What? You sure?" Kuade switches life support back on.
"Loree, are you sure he's telling you it's Starfleet?" Bex asks.
"I-I... I don't know, but he's scared. I haven't felt this kind of fear since the night we stole the ship."
"What's the likelihood of a Starfleet vessel attempting a bait and switch this close to the Klingon border?" Bex asks Kuade.
"Very low," he answers, "It's not really like them."
"How fast is their fastest Starship?"
"Last time I was onboard, the Enterprise was capable of warp factor 7," Roh points out.
"And based on our scan, if there is a Starship out there, it'll take it less than 20 minutes to reach us," Kuade calculates.
"Can you beam Charlie back on board?"
"No. The wrecked vessel's shields are up," Kuade replies.
"Since we used the long-range scanner, we are no longer cloaked," Roh explains, "We risk being boarded ourselves."
"If we put up our shields now, we won't have enough power left to get to our rendezvous point with the Ferengis," Kuade warns.
Bex thinks for a moment and then leaves her seat, "Loree, you have the comm," she leaves the bridge and runs down the cramped corridor to the transport room, "Kuade! I'm going down there."
"What!" Kuade pops up from behind a console with wires and tubes draped around his neck, "You can't go down there!"
"I'm getting Charlie back and restraining our enemy before they attempt to beam aboard the Marqui."
"Like hell you are!" he stomps over to Bex who double-checks the coordinates on the transporter screen, "There is a possible Starfleet vessel on its way here. We need to leave now!"
"We can't leave without our Captain. We're not arguing about this."
"Forget Charlie! He was the one who willing walked into a trap!"
"I was willing to walk into that same trap and I am the only one capable of securing that shuttle. You still have that prototype combadge, right? Can it circumvent and find a gap in the shuttle's shields?"
"A passenger vessel? Yes, probably. Their shields don't have as wide a range of frequencies."
"Good. I'll give it Charlie so you can pinpoint his coordinates and get him back on the Marquis," Bex strategizes and ties some kind of short sword sheath around her waist.
"B-but, I only have the one badge! I won't be able to get you both back in time!"
"Then I will secure the shuttle," she reiterates, "Once I do, I'll drop the shields and you can beam me aboard the old fashioned way. Yes?"
"Yes, but-" Kuade reasserts, "No! Need I remind you, that while you've been galavanting across the galaxy playing vigilante, you are still my client I am still warranted over your life and safety. I cannot allow you to be captured by a Starfleet vessel and thus, I will not be beaming aboard that shuttle."
"Kuade. You're interfering again," Bex warns, "Our Ferengi contacts will only negotiate with our Captain. It will be far easier for me extract Charlie off that vessel than it would be a Starship," she slips on some kind of bizarre alien tribal mask.
Kuade bites his lip and huffs, "Assisting you is a still interfering."
"Just get me back once I drop the shields, okay lover boy?" she holds out her hand for the prototype badge. The detective growls and reluctantly digs into his coat pocket for a Starfleet badge arrowhead pried open with its prototype board exposed.
"Thank you," she says before tapping the badge to her chest, "Energize!"
Bex's face begins to glow bright green as her body dissolves into millions of sparks. When she vanishes, quiet returns to the Marquis and Kuade can finally take a deep breath. When he turns to return to his work, he's greeted by the Commander Roh's grim face.
He stiffens as if in fear, "Loralee..."
She stares at him, reading his thoughts, "The guilt will kill you one day, Kuade. Get them back."
Charlie, beaten and bruised, is handcuffed with his arms behind his back and dragged to the shuttle bridge. It's a small craft, smaller than the Marquis, and has a two-person cockpit. He kneels on the ground behind an olive skinned woman sitting in the Captain's chair.
"Of all the millions of ships and trillions of creatures in the galaxy I could have lured in," she says in a smooth voice, "Never thought it would be Starfleet's most wanted man," she turns in her chair to face Charlie with an armed phaser. She motions for her men to wait outside the tiny cockpit. She is a very beautiful, muscular woman with obsidian black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. There is a clear 'no B.S.' aura about her.
Charlie turns up the charm, "Captain Charles Beauregard at your service," he bows his head.
"Oh, I've heard all about you and your antics back at the Academy."
"Am I everything you expected and more?"
"Less," she doesn't break her stern composer, "Charles Beauregard, I am Chief Security Officer Ellen Landry and you are under arrest."
"Starfleet!" Charlie laughs, "The hell are you doing out here? Didn't one of you idiots just start a war with the Klingons? You tryin' to stir up more trouble?"
"Where's the Marquis?" Landry asks calmly.
"Scrapped. Sold to the Ferengi about three months back."
"Bull. Where's the ship?"
"Gone. I told you. Bug the Ferengi if you want it back so bad."
"Don't make me smack that pretty face of yours. You beamed in from somewhere and I will find your ship whether you cooperate or no-"
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The console behind Landry lights up. The shuttle is being scanned.
"Ah! Found it. You should've told your crew to save their dilithium. They won't find anything else out here."
"Which I do find rather peculiar. You plannin' on havin' me all alone to yourself for a while?" he winks.
"Captain," Landry taps her flips open her communicator and can't help but smile, "I have quite the catch here for you. Bit of a talker, this one."
"Charlie Beau!" comes a voice from the faux-wrecked comm system, "Never thought I'd see your face again."
Charlie's ears perk up to the sound of a voice he hadn't heard in a very long time, "Captain Gabriel Lorca!" he lifts his head and laughs, "Doin' a little fishin', are we?"
"Yeeeah!" Lorca mocks as a blue holographic projection of his face lights up in the viewscreen behind Landry, "Was hopin' to catch me some Klingons," there's a slight unintentional twang in his voice, "Looks like Starfleet's most wanted man will have to suffice. Cornwell will be pleased, nonetheless."
"Oh, I'm sure the Cornwell is very pleased with you," Charlie accuses with a wicked grin and is promptly backhanded by Landry.
"Don't worry about the Marquis, I'll take good care of her," Lorca threatens, "Though, what you've put her through, any TLC would do her good."
Charlie spits blood on the floor, "You ain't gettin' my ship."
"Well, that's what you think, cowboy," Lorca shuts off the transmission.
Charlie chuckles to himself, "By the time Lorca arrives, I'll already be good 'n gone," he winks, "Sorry 'bout that, sweetheart, but this fish is going back in the lake."
"And how will you accomplish that exactly?" she's not impressed.
"AAAAAHH!" one of Landry's offers screams from the hall followed by several loud crashes.
Charlie grins satisfied, "You don't think I became the most wanted man in all of Starfleet all on my own do you?"
The Security Officer drops her guard and he takes advantage by jumping to his feet and slamming his body into her's.
"UUGH!" he smashes her against a control panel and she drops her phaser. She returns a counterattack by swinging her arms just shy of the cowboy's face. He quickly dodges several rounds of punches, but his hands are still locked behind his back, which makes it difficult to maintain balance. She lands a few hits to his nose and then roundhouses him to the ground.
"Ahaahk!" his wrists break his fall when he lands on Bex's feet when she slides open the Bridgeway doors.
"What..." Landry says almost disgusted when she finds her new visitor wearing a half-mask with ridges that mimic a Klingon's.
The masked Bex looks down at her captain and slaps his chest with the modified badge, "One to beam up," she instructs to Charlie's surprise. His body glows green and disappears, extracted safely from the wrecked vessel.
Bex returns her focus to the Commander and reveals a three foot, three prong black beating stick that cleared the hallway. She twists her wrist and the prongs begin to pulse violently with red energy. Landry steps back in fear when she realizes the detailed engravings along this rod are of Klingon origin. She eyes her phaser on the ground and lunges for it, but Bex swings her spear wildly and strikes the Commander on the cheek, sending an electrified volt through her body.
"GAAAAHHH!" Landry falls back on the control panel again. She palms her cheek which now smells of burning flesh and dodges as Bex slams her rod down again and again. Glass and sparks fly as Landry uses the various chairs, panels, and screens as shields. The bridge is very cramped and although her rod is short, it is still difficult for Bex to strike with full muscle power. Eventually, her rod gets wedged in a dashboard and Landry takes the moment to strike back.
Charlie beams aboard the Marquis and Kaude helps him to his feet.
"Get her back on board, now!" he shoves Kuade off and limps down the hall towards the bridge, "Commander Roh! Loree!" he stumbles onto the bridge while babying his broken wrist, "Get those engines ready to burn! We have a Starfleet ship inbound, 15 minutes!"
"Uh, Captain..." distracted Roh stares out the hull window.
Charlie stands next to her and they watch a lightning storm congregate a few thousand kilometers in front of the Marquis. They can clearly see space bend and bulge around this storm as a chunk of twisted silver emerges from the light. It's a starship! But unlike any starship, they've ever seen. The normally singular saucer has been split into two rings that twirl around each other like an old Earth gyroscope toy. The entire ship spins on its X-axis as if flipped by a giant hand and then comes to a sudden, hard stop.
"What kind of warp was that?" Charlie's voice waivers in fear.
Roh mutters to herself, "Something that big should not spin that fast-" and quickly inhales as she feels a sudden burst of excitement bloom in her chest. She's in empathy with Kuade who unexpectedly emerged out from below deck. Eyes wide and unblinking, he stares just inches from the hull window at the impossible Starship before him. He reads the hull, NCC-1031 Discovery.
"We have to get on that ship."
For a brief moment, while blocking Landry's wild punches and shoves, Bex can feel the space around her tighten and compress. The wrecked ship groans in sympathy for this pressure change. As she absorbs the rather impressive power of the Commander's hits, Bex's eyes blink in natural reaction.
Blink. Empty space.
Blink. A ship.
"What!?"
No way! That's faster than the Marquis, she marvels to herself, Why the hell is it spinning!?
Landry takes advantage of the hesitation and punches Bex in the side of the head, cracking the Klingon tribal mask and sending her into darkness.
Bex admits, she feels more excited than she should to walk down the wide halls of her first Crossfield-class Starship. The Discovery's size and technology overshadows the Marquis as does the crew. 200 officers wonder the ship, all wearing dark blue Starfleet uniforms sheathed on the sides with metal scales. Commander Landry escorts the Marquida down various corridors to the lower deck brig. Crewmen poke their heads out from the doorways and around corners to gape at the prisoner precession. Everyone recognizes Charlie.
"That's Ex-Commander Charles Beauregard," they whisper to one another, "He has the gall to show his face, the traitor..." Charlie can't help by smile smugly despite his swollen face.
Roh feels less than enthused, "There are a lot of mixed feelings on this ship," she seems stressed out by the conflictions.
"I thought the Discovery was a science vessel," Kuade mumbles disappointed to himself.
Bex looks around and notices heavily armed guards with military grade phasers, "It's going to be difficult to get out of here with the Marquis..." she warns Charlie.
"Hm. Strategy meeting. Tonight," he tells his crew and they continue down the hall in silence.
Commander Landry enters Captain Lorca's private quarters, hands confidently folded behind her back with her tablet report on the Marqui ready for approval. No other officer is allowed access here, but Chief of Security has it's permissions, not that she takes any extra delight in such privileges.
"Ellen," Lorca greets with a pep to his words. His desk has several projections open with field reports and details on Klingon vessels.
He's obsessed. Landry makes mental notes of the Captain's behavior.
"Gabriel," she greets with a small smile.
"How'd it go?" he takes a sip from a mug.
And he's drinking coffee again.
"The mission was an absolute success, sir. I have secured the Marquis and it's shipment of an estimated 10,000 Lathium bars worth of Klingon weapons and armor."
The Captain smiles wide, "Marquida have to get their funding somehow. Excellent work, Commander! And uh... great 'baiting' idea. I like your ingenuity."
"Thank you, sir," she takes the compliment professionally.
"How many Marquida were there?"
"Four total, including a Mr. Charles Beauregard."
Lorca scoffs, "I swore I'd never let him step foot on my ship again. Did he put up a fight?"
"Yes, but nothing I couldn't handle," she says proudly.
"Oh? What's that then?" he reaches out with his hand to try and touch a red mark on her cheek, but she pulls back before he makes contact.
"Klingon cattle-prod," she says with disdain, "Charlie wasn't alone."
"Mm," Lorca says a bit disappointed, "Lucky I arrived with I did."
"Yes sir, thank you. You should've seen the look on her face when Discovery jumped."
Lorca turns and eyes her in bemusement and sips his coffee.
"Would you like me to fetch Beauregard?"
He waves his hand and dismisses the idea, "Keep 'em busy. I have prison shuttle arriving for them 12 hours."
"Then I'll put them to work down in steerage," Landry pauses a moment and checks the bags under her Captain's eyes, "Permission to speak frankly, sir."
"Hn? You know I always value your opinion."
"Get some sleep," she says bluntly before handing over her report and exiting.
Gabriel chuckles to himself and sets down his coffee. He flickers on the holographic readout of Landry's report and recognizes the first mugshot, "...Charlie Beau," he grumbles before letting the computer read out the rest of the details.
"Ex-Starfleet First Officer Charles Beauregard IV. Species: Human, Age: 36, Felonies: Impersonating a Starfleet Officer, Trafficking, Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon, Grand-Theft of the Starship USS Marqui-"
"Next," Lorca stares out his hull window.
"Ex-Starfleet Lieutenant Loralee Roh. Species: Betazoid, Age: 22, Felonies: Impersonating a Starfleet Officer, Trafficking, Soliciting-"
"Next," he says dully.
"Samantha Bex. Species: Human, Age: 267, Felonies: Impersonating-"
"Wait, what? Repeat that back!" Lorca turns to Samantha Bex's mugshot.
"Samantha Bex. Human, born in the year 1988, found and rescued nine months ago from an unidentified human colony on the Klingon planet Donatu V."
Lorca expands her mugshot and scrolls, "How did she get there?"
"Classified."
"How long was she there?"
"Approximately 18 months."
"How'd she escape?"
"Classified."
"Override it! Voice confirmation, Captain Gabriel Lorca of the Starship USS Discovery."
"Access denied."
"By whose authority?" he takes offense.
"The Vulcan Expeditionary Group..." the computer responds and Lorca rolls his eyes and minimises his holographic projection. The computer continues, "...in addition to Starfleet High Command, Vulcan Expeditionary Group has restricted access to any information on the Donatu V Human Colony until their investigation is concluded."
"Damn Vulcans," he takes a deep breath and thinks for a moment, "Samantha Bex, huh? What the hell are you doing here?"
The Marquida are put into individual cells below deck. Unlike other ship brigs with a set number of cells, the Discovery is a bit more modular. The cells wall are built from netted force fields that can be adjusted to any size to accommodate any number of prisoners. Currently, four cells pair off on either side of the room. Charlie stands in the middle of his cell, arms crossed with Roh to his left in a seiza position meditating. Across from her sits Bex, leaning against her wall with her arms resting on her knees. To her right Kuade paces in his cell with his arms behind his back. The four remain silent since their walk of shame down the ship's corridors. Half of the Marquida still throb with pain, although none seem too thrilled to be captured.
Charlie watches the guard's behaviors and waits for a shift change. When one finally happens, he looks over at Roh and nods. She calmly returns a nod and closes her eyes.
The Marquis Captain takes a deep breath and thinks loudly in his head, Everyone. Listen up!
Bex feels a tingle inside the front lobe of her brain. She and Kuade look up at Charlie at the same time and then look away as if they didn't just hear a telepathic voice in their heads.
Loree's under a lot of emotional distress being on this ship, so this is going to be a one-way conversation, Charlie thinks to his crew, Lorca does not need to corroborate our stories. He will only talk to one of us and that person will be me. In the meantime, let's get this strategy meeting underway.
Lorca paces around his office while flipping an empty coffee mug in his hands, "Computer. Bring up the security feed for the brig."
The computer beeps in response and a blue 3D hologram of the ship's' brig projects off his table, displaying four prisoners in the four separate corners. The Captain spins the projection around a bit to get a better look at Charlie who just stands motionless. Lorca chews on his lip and he studies his prisoners. He sees Charlie turn his head so ever so slightly. Could be nothing, but then the two prisoners across the room look up in unison before quickly lowering their heads back down again.
"What..." he almost missed it. He zooms in on Charlie who still stands arms folded against his chest. Lorca then slowly spins the projection to Samantha Bex who sits on the floor, head down and arms crisscrossed around her knees. The human next to her, Lorca forgets his name, just paces. Cattycorner to him is that Betazoid with her eyes closed.
"...You're kidding," he stares hard at the Betazoid projection and can see the faint movement of her eyes darting beneath her eyelids. Lorca then notices that Bex's fingers keep twitching. First her left index, then her right pinky. It's subtle and looks almost unintentional.
"There communicating..." his heart leaps and he sets his mug down hard. He leans in close to the hologram.
"One.. two.. three, turn to the right.." he counts the Kuade's steps, "One.. two... Pause, turn to the left."
Yes.
He watches Bex's fingers, "Tap with right index... two taps left index... squeeze with both fists."
No.
So far, the only thing he can determine is a disagreement in how to extract the Marqui. The details of how this will be done still elude him, but he continues to take notes of their signals for the next hour.
"One... two... Three... Backstep, two, one..."
"Left thumb, right thumb, head tilt..."
Three cups of coffee into his surveillance and Lorca has gathered that they will attempt to commandeer the ship during transport after it has been fixed. He feels rather confident in his review, but then the four prisoners suddenly stop fidgeting.
"Hmm?"
The Betazoid lifts her head and then very gracefully stands to her feet. She takes two steps to the front of her cell and very delicately, clasps her hands together in front of her waist. The pacing human in the opposite corner sees this, thinks for a moment and steps forward to holds his hands in front. Next up, Charlie who does not step forward, but drops his arms into a clasped position nonetheless. The last to make a move is Bex who just stares at the ground and remains seated.
"Why aren't you standing, Samantha?" Lorca whispers to the hologram. His cold blue eyes focused on her movements, down to how many times she breathes. She's in disagreement with the rest of the crew but eventually rises, reluctantly. She takes several steps forward, her arms swinging at her sides, squeezing her fists before she finally clasping her hands behind her back.
Lorca can see the frown cross Charlie's face and then all four break formation and return to their previous spots. They no longer communicate.
His heartbeat picks up, "What was that about?"
"Oohh... this hurts," Charlie moans at the site of his Klingon hoard in the cargo bay of the Discovery, "That was a big payday. Of course, Starfleet would steal it from us. Lorca's probably salivatin' over it, the pervert," inside the Discovery shuttle bay rests the Marquis, opened like an autopsied corpse with hundreds of boxes and crates piled around her.
"C'mon," Roh insists, "The faster we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to the brig."
"Oh you wanna go back?" he accuses.
"Better than being near this crew. I'm sensing a lot of animosity towards their Captain. It's... an uncomfortable feeling for me."
After a blissless sleep in the brig, the Marquida reluctantly unpack their own freighter of its prizes to be locked away in the Discovery's cargo vault. Starfleet security officers with thick black badges hover around the crew while they struggle to move the crates. Kuade loafs around shifting a few smaller boxes here and there but remains solidly useless.
"Ugh!" Bex grunts pulling a skinny sarcophagus off the ground, "Aren't there robots in the future that can do this? Why the hell are we put in charge of emptying our own freighter?"
Charlie takes the other end of the box, "Oof! Lorca's sick idea of punishment, I reckon," he explains, "Plus, he's obsessed with efficiency. I wouldn't put it past 'em to use prisoners for manual labor. He and I go way back, y'know. How he still has a Starship and I had to steal mine is a big reason I left Starfleet."
Charlie staggers backward down the dock ramp and slams into Kuade who was hard at work avoiding work.
KRII-KRAAASSSH!
The box smashes into the ground and the lid falls open causing three Klingon ceremonial spears spill out.
"Damnit, Kuade! Could you be useful and actually help us for once!?" Charlie snaps.
"Oh, my xenophobia against the Klingons prevents me from touching their little toys. You're on your own," Kuade haughtily refuses and continues to float around from corner to corner like a useless moth.
"I pray the Captain has a decent bone left in his body and throws you out the airlock," Charlie seeths and helps me put away the very expensive spears, "What uh these for anyway?"
"I forget the name," Bex admits, "Painstiks? They're used in Klingon Ascension Ceremonies, I know that. They're electrified," she picks up one and presses down three hidden glyph switches along the staff. The three-pronged tip on the end lights up with a red spark.
"Can I?"
Charlie takes the spear and he gently twists the staff causing the spark to slowly bloom.
"Careful, it is capable of long ra-"
SSSSIIIIFFFFTHAAA-CRAASH!
Charlie twists on the spear too hard and sends a bolt of red lightning across the shuttle bay nearly hitting Commander Landry just as she enters. Both she and Charlie knock backward by the power of the bolt that hits and blackens a nearby wall.
Landry promptly recovers and aims her charged phaser at Charlie and then, to the surprise of everyone, aims it at Bex.
"Captain wants a word."
Bex and Charlie look at each other with wild apprehension and confusion. There is no need for a telepath to read each other's mind.
"Captain Lorca. Samantha Bex is here to see you," Landry escorts Bex to the Captain's Ready Room, which is a small very dark office annexed to the main bridge. The Captain stands with his back towards the door while he looks out his hull window. The fact that he wants to speak to Bex rather than Charlie clues her in on what our conversation will cover.
"No matter how deep in space you are, always feel like you can see home. Don't you think?"
The Captain tilts his head and waits for an answer, but gets none. His words seem rehearsed.
"I guess it's different for you. Forgive the lighting. The lack thereof. A recent battle injury. There's nothing they can do if I want to keep my own eyes, and I do. I have to suffer light change slowly. I like to think it makes me mysterious. No?" he turns to properly face his guest. Not a remarkable looking man; tall, lean with a face aged beyond his years, but mostly unintimidating.
"November 2nd, 2016 the Chicago Cubs win the World Series, 8 to 7, after 108 years of defeat!" he states excitedly before his voice drops again, "Must've been a helluva game."
Bex remains silent and wonders, I've met scarier Captains before, so what's with all the eggshell around this guy?
"I am Captain Gabriel Lorca and I just hit the jackpot. Not only did I secure the elusive Marqui, her crew and her Klingon weapons cache, but I also got myself a bonafide 21st Century Human," he sizes Bex up and leans forward on his standing desk with his hands spread wide, "I don't think I've ever met a time traveler before."
"I don't think most people have," she finally answers, trying not to give anything away.
"I only wish we met under better circumstances," he frowns after a pause and turns on a holographic projection for Bex to read, "I did a little research on you. There's not much, but the little I've gathered is quite interesting. Abducted a little over three years ago by an unknown alien species. Held hostage on a Klingon controlled planet. Survived on said planet, for almost two years," he seems impressed, "How'd you do it?" he rounds and leans his back against his desk.
Interesting. Out of the things we could talk about, he chooses Klingons.
"Simple. I colluded with the enemy," she answers frankly.
He breaks his composure of a second, "You admit this?"
"I did whatever was needed to survive."
"And how much collusion was there exactly?"
"Enough to procure a rescue."
The Captain motions with his face for her to elaborate.
"I familiarized myself with their technology, weapons, language..."
"Are you still loyal to your old allies?"
"If I were, would I tell you?" that was an overstep.
He blinks hard and cocks an eyebrow at her brazenness.
Bex takes a deep breath and recites, "Starfleet Command in addition to the Vulcan Expeditionary Group conducted an investigation as to my being on Donatu V. They concluded that any action of mine while captured; whether it be treason, collusion or even murder, was, in fact, an act of self-defense due to my extremely hostile environment. They found me innocent of all charges."
"So I've read," the Captain replies dryly while scrolling through her mugshot details, "You later joined the Academy... and then promptly dropped out after a month," he looks up with his striking blue eyes, "Not your bag?"
"I'm a bit behind the times," Bex shrugs, "I have two centuries of innovation and history to catch up on. Starfleet was the floodgate of that information and it was uh... overwhelming," she seems embarrassed.
Lorca nods thoughtfully, "So, you joined a rogue crew of Starfleet defectors instead."
How do I explain that... Bex stalls.
"Captain. I have no home, no family, and no future. Back in my time, mankind had barely made it past Mars, but now I have the entirety of the galaxy to wander. So, I made some friends who were in a similar predicament and together we explored the universe on our own terms and at our own pace."
A faint smile crosses the Captain's lips, "There are more honorable ways to tour the galaxy... Why not work for me?"
Bex is taken aback, "Uhh... With all due respect, is that completely appropriate?"
"It's my ship and I've been in an acceptable mood today. You may not be a Starfleet officer but you have more experience with the Klingons than any of my crew. I could really use someone like you."
"A criminal."
"Intel."
The two stare at each other's unreadable faces.
Red flags... Bex's gut warns.
He sits up and takes a step too close, invading the Marquida's personal space in a show of intimidation, "We're at war," he says in a low, gravely voice, "I hope you've gathered at least that much. Starfleet has given me the discretion to fight this war how I see fit. I will use anything and anyone at my disposal to complete my mission."
Charlie's reservations about Lorca start to make sense, "Lorca will only speak to me and I will remain on the Discovery," she remembers her Captain explaining.
Change of plans... she has a new mission, "You would trust what I have to tell you?"
"Trust is something to be worked out. Consider this a plea bargain," he returns to the other side of his desk, "Starfleet was merciful to you once. They won't be again. Impersonating an officer is a life sentence. You should thank me, Samantha Bex. I'm doing you a favor. Welcome aboard the Starship Discovery," he motions to the door with his chin, "Dismissed."