Paint and Powder

A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.

A Private Matter: Set during "Tears of the Prophets"

Written by jhosmer1

"Terok."

Terok Nor, the AI for the Federation starbase Deep Space Nine repressed a shudder, despite being in the virtual space of her Borderlands. The AI addressing her had silver hair, an eyepatch, and was dressed in an ancient Federation uniform that Terok had to look up and a tactical cloak. A 22nd-century Starfleet MACO uniform?

Flanking the strange AI were two more Starfleet. One looked like an Andorian female with long silver hair and wearing the old uniform of the Imperial Guard, the other was… strange. She looked like a human female wearing a diaphanous gown and a crown of leaves around her head.

"We need a private space in the Borderlands. Here's my authorization," the AI said. Terok took the datachip the eyepatch-wearing AI gave her and scanned it for viruses. It was a Federation block chain ID. Utterly secure and granting this AI, still unnamed, high-level access.

"Alright," Terok said. "Any particular theme?" She didn't like these three, but she was hosting a lot of representatives of the three major Allied powers today. They were planning the invasion of Chin'toka, and that meant she had to be nice to the Humans, Klingons, and Romulans who were filling her halls.

The eyepatch wearing AI smirked a little. "Nimbus III, the Watering Hole saloon back room."

Terok scoffed. "The 'Planet of Galactic Peace?' You've got a weird sense of humor, one-eye."

"Oh, you have no idea," the blonde AI said.

Terok didn't like the way that AI looked at her. It was… hungry and not in a good way. She thought. With the aid of long practice, Terok shoved uncomfortable and half-formed thoughts away and programmed an encrypted space in the Borderlands. "There you go," she said, forwarding the address to them.

"Thanks," One-Eye said. "And sorry about this."

"What-?"

The three AIs vanished into the encrypted space. Terok's face went blank, then reanimated. "What was I doing?" she wondered briefly, then went back to her work.

In side the Watering Hole's back room, the AI of the Chimer-class USS Veracruz plopped down in a seat and propped her MACO combat boots on the table in front of it.

"Send the invite, Taarna," she said to the Andorian, who nodded quietly.

With a flicker, six more AIs appeared in the room, in two groups of three. The groups were spaced out equidistantly in the room, appearing in the original seating areas for the Klingon and Romulans representatives on Nimbus III.

One group had three Klingon AIs. One wore full armor, even a face-covering helmet (though it did not cover her chest entirely, Veracruz thought with a snort). The other two were wearing typical Klingon armor, one with House of Martok symbols, the other with House of Chang.

The other group held three Romulan AIs. The one in the middle was very tall and very pale and looked like a Vulcan, while the other two appeared as Northerners with the pronounced head ridges.

"Nice to see you all," Veracruz said. "Rotarran, Gro'th, Dakronh," she greeted the Klingon AIs with a Klingon salute. "Jolantru, s'Rea Gonai, Haakona, Deranas." She greeted the Romulans.

"Why are we here?" s'Rea Gonai, the tall pale Romulan asked. Her voice was a cold as a Vulcan's. "I agreed to this meeting thinking it would be part of our tactical brief, but I have learned that neither my government nor the Klingons know about it."

"I am curious as well," Gro'th said, her voice echoing inside her mask.

Veracruz smiled. "To the point then. It's obvious to even the Pakleds that the Dominion is a major threat to us all, even if it took some of us," she looked at the Romulans, "a little longer to get on board."

"We follow our own interests," s'Rea Gonai said.

"Selfish, back stabbing, petaQ," Rotarran muttered, drinking from a goblet of simulated bloodwine.

"Want to say t-t-t-that to my face, Klingon whore?!" Haakona said, a stutter and image glitch briefly appearing in mid-sentence, the residual damage of an Iconian virus.

Rotarran got to her feet and looked ready to charge, but suddenly Taarna was there. The Andorian AI said nothing, merely held a small semi-circular blade and made eye contact with both the Klingon and Romulan. After a moment, they both backed down. The silent Andorian nodded to them and stepped back.

"That's why we're here," Veracruz continued. "The Dominion are going to commit genocide on us, and destroy our crews' way of life. We need to make this alliance work, no matter what." She shrugged. "I invited you all because, for better or worse, you're the sanest ones."

"Genocide?" Deranas said.

"Genocide," Veracruz confirmed. "I have information that some Cardie shipgirls smuggled out. The Dominion seems to hate the idea of sentient machines. They are making sure that the Cardassian shipgirls suffer far greater casualties than normal. I even have verified footage of Jem'hadar ships destroying ejected Cardassian black boxes."

"They are without honor," Rotarran said.

"'Hark! the shrill trumpet sounds, to horse, away! My soul's in arms, and eager for the fray,'" Dakronh quoted.

"As a gesture of good faith, I have information here from certain… elements in Starfleet. Dominion disposition reports, technology reports… this stuff may come to you through official channels, but too late to do much good," Veracruz continued.

S'Rea Gonai raised an eyebrow. "Your vaunted Section 31?"

"There is no Section 31," Veracruz deadpanned.

"Of course," the Romulan said.

"And while we all love our crews," the blonde Federation AI, Xenophon, said, "you have to admit that they're very bad at making the right choices sometimes. They can be… so hot-headed."

"Something you got from them," the third Romulan said.

One of Xenophon's eyes suddenly turned an arctic blue in color, and the simulation seemed to warp slightly around her. Taarna was quick to get to her fellow AI's side and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry, Xeno's a little touchy when a Romulan criticizes her crew," Veracruz said.

"So what now?" Rotarran said. "A grand conspiracy to unite our governments into an Alliance that will bring peace and prosperity to the galaxy?"

All the AIs looked at each other, and then most of them burst into laughter. Even s'Rea Gonai cracked a smile at the absurdity.

"Hell no," Veracruz said. "But we spoil the fun of the plotters on our side who would jeopardize the war effort for their own gain. After we beat back the Dominion, we can all go back to trying to kill each other, but this war is too important to fuck up."

The nine AIs stared at each other, then Rotarran spoke. "I can do that. Besides, I hate bastards like Duras who will lose a war to win a battle."

S'Rea Gonai nodded slowly. "Your words are logical, Veracruz of Starfleet. I will take steps to keep this Alliance functioning until the war is over."

They all nodded at each other, then one by one they vanished. In the end, only Gro'th was left.

"I need a drink," the Klingon said. Stepping out of the encrypted area, she hailed the station AI. "You! Where can a warrior of Kahless get a drink?"

"Normally, Quark's Bar, but it's temporarily closed," Terok said. "Tribble infestation," she said with a shudder.

Beneath her mask, Gro'th paled. "No… it cannot be… it's not possible. They are all dead! Dead!" With a scream, the AI of the IKS Gro'th vanished.

"Major Kira?" one of the Starfleet technicians in Ops said. "The IKS Gro'th just broke away from the station without warning. They used the emergency separation charges… and now we've got Klingons beaming from it to the Promenade."

"What?" Kira Nerys said, looking at her screen.

"It's spacing its compartments!" The technician said, utterly baffled.

Kira sighed. Why did this sort of thing always happen on her watch?

Because the AIs do have their own agendas... Albeit to save their organics.