Story:Star Trek: Prometheus/Rightful Destiny/Chapter 5

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FIVE

Stardate 54934.74 (3½ Months Later)

In the ops module onboard the brown-hulled Cardassian-built Nor class space station known far and wide as Deep Space Nine, Captain Kira Nerys sat behind the desk in the station commander’s office when the comm system activated and the voice of her chief of operations, lieutenant Nog, the only Ferengi in Starfleet, came forth.

“Ops to Captain Kira. Could you come out here please.”

Seconds later Kira emerged from the office, walked down the stairs that led to the station commander’s office, and joined Nog at the conference table in the centre of the ops module.

“What do you have Nog?” Kira asked.

“We just received a distress call from the Tulanis system’s automated deuterium collector.”

“Are there any Starfleet ships closer than us?” Kira asked.

“No,” Nog said as he checked with the computer, “the Defiant is the closest.”

“Very well, prepare the Defiant for launch and notify commander Vaughn.”

“Colonel, commander Vaughn is still onboard Empok Nor gathering a supply of system control isolinear rods.” Nog said. Commander Elias Vaughn, Deep Space Nine’s one hundred plus year old human first officer and commander of the Defiant had taken a runabout and engineering team to the abandoned Cardassian space station that had been towed into the Bajoran system and placed orbit of one of Bajor’s moons to serve as DS9’s spare parts repository.

“Then contact him and tell him you’ll pick him up en route.” Kira said.

“Aye, Colonel.” Nog said before he stood up and headed for the turbolift.

---

Eight hours later commander Elias Vaughn sat in the captain’s chair of the Defiant as the ship dropped out of warp in the Tulanis star system. In a low equatorial orbit of the eighth planet, a class-J gas giant, was a standard issue type-six automated Starfleet deuterium collection station.

“Report,” Vaughn ordered, “What do we have out there?”

After a moment the Andorian ensign Shar ch’Thane, who had gone to the academy with Nog, spoke up from the conn station, “There appears to be nothing out of the ordinary, sir. Except that the deuterium collector’s sensors and shields are non-functional and the deuterium tanks are empty. They should be nearly full.”

“Any signs that a ship was here?” Vaughn asked.

“Yes, sir. I am detecting a warp signature…it appears to be Kelvan in origin. However, there is not enough of it left to be able to determine a heading.”

“Very well,” Vaughn said, “Nalogen IV is too far away for us to go to investigate the Kelvan connection. We can’t leave DS9 unprotected for an indefinite period of time. Deploy a class five reconnaissance drone to monitor the area. Notify DS9 and Command of our findings. Lay in a return course for DS9 and engage at warp six.”

As the Defiant jumped to warp on a heading for Deep Space Nine ch’Thane turned to face Vaughn.

“Sir, I heard about a couple a similar situation happening recently. Apparently the Enterprise ran into a situation similar to ours in one of the two-hundred something sectors. The Enterprise didn’t detect anything, not even a warp signature”

“Where did you hear this, ensign?” Vaughn asked.

“A friend of mine from the Academy was posted to reports receiving at Command.” ch’Thane explained, “He mentioned it to me in his latest letter because he found it unusual and thought I might have heard something unofficial about it.”

“No need to worry, Mister ch’Thane. They’re not dummies at Command, they’ll put two and two together an dispatch a ship to investigate the connection. If it’s us then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, until then it’s not our place to worry about it anymore than we already have.”

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Stardate 54954.13 (One Week Later)

“They want me to do what?!” Admiral Leonard McCoy asked, incredulously, in his Georgian accent as he sat in an office in Starfleet Command.

“Command wants you and Captain Scott of the SCE to tour the medical and engineering facilities of the Spacedock, starbases 100, 110, 115, 125, 200, and 209, and assess their status, so you can submit a report.” The red-headed young lieutenant who served as McCoy’s attaché said.

“Assess them my butt,” McCoy grumbled, “they’re just parading the old men around and saying ‘look at our fossils’.”

“Sir, I’m sure that’s not what’s going on.”

“Of course it is,” McCoy grumbled, “When do me and Scotty leave?”

“The day after tomorrow, sir, onboard the Cochrane. 13:00 hours.”

“My god! They’re sending us out on an Oberth class ship?! The trip will take at least two weeks. Why don’t they send me on something a little faster, are they trying to send me away for a month? What, are they planning something?”

“Actually three and a half weeks, according to Command’s itinerary. And I’m sure they’re not planning anything, sir.”

“Whatever you say, boy.” McCoy said with a dismissive wave intended for the idea that Starfleet Command was not planning anything, “Just try not to make a mess of my office while I’m gone. And don’t touch my Romulan ale, it’s for medicinal purposes only.”

---

Stardate 54973.30 (Another Week Later)

The Kelvan battle cruiser Islupuram silently glided into the Alchemene star system and dropped from warp as it approached the third planet’s lone, barren, moon and entered a geo-synchronous orbit over the titanium processing facility on the surface. The Islupuram’s construction had resulted in the ship looking like a sleek, grey, technological fish with deflector dish and almost invisible disruptor cannon mounted on its bow and a fin, that acted as a warp nacelle, coming from each side and a tail-fin that housed the ship’s impulse engines and lay along the ship’s X-axis, ninety degrees from the way a real fish’s tail fin would be.

“Zah’dar,” Sub-Zah’dar Mogan said as one of his hundred tentacles manipulated a control knob on his console, “the Federation facility is attempting to communicate with us.

“Do not respond. Scan the facility and find where the tritanium stockpiles and the shield generators, and any weapons systems are.”

Moments later Mogan was telling his captain the information he wanted as the station raised its shields. The Islupuram responded by charging its main tetryon plasma disruptor cannon and fired into the station’s shields instantly overloading the shield generators that were designed to withstand nothing harder than a small meteoroid impact. Once the facility’s shields fell the Islupuram fired again blasting a hole in the wall of the station’s cargo bay that interacted with the circuitry in the wall and overloaded the life support system throughout the entire station. Moments later a small escape pod launched from the station towards the planet.

“Zah’dar,” Mogan reported, “I am detecting an escape pod heading for the planet. One person onboard.”

“Where is the other? Starfleet usually stations two people at these facilities.” Togen said.

“According to sensors the other person is on the station, dying.”

“Fire on the escape pod, but do not destroy it. Let it crash land.” Togen ordered, “Then take a boarding party to the station and facility and have the tritanium beamed over. Take transport enhancers and a portable force field and atmospheric generator so you can go into the cargo bay. Be fast we do not want to be here if someone enters the system.”

---

Onboard the Prometheus a large portion of the crew was sitting at tables in the reception hall program running holodeck two. Above the head table was a pair of linked hearts that had the names Lisa and Marcus in them. Below this sat the newlyweds, lieutenant junior grade. Lisa Westgate and ensign Marcus Davis, from security. On the stage to the left of the head table Logan stood there in his dress uniform with a holographic band behind him and a microphone in his hand.

“Not only do I have the joy of joining Lisa and Marcus, two valued members of my crew, in holy matrimony,” Logan said when he had everyone’s attention, “I also have the extreme pleasure of singing their wedding song, so if I could get them up here for their first dance as man and wife that would be greatly appreciated.”

Lisa, in her white wedding dress, and Marcus, in his dress uniform, walked out onto the dance floor. A computer-controlled spotlight shone on them as Logan began to sing to the music the band was playing.

“Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, If I can’t help falling in love with you? Like a river flows surely to the sea, Darling so it goes some things are meant to be. Take my hand, Take my whole life too, For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

“An odd cultural custom this ‘first dance’,” T’Wan said as she sat with Joshua and the rest of the senior staff as Logan continued to sing, “and this song seems to propagate the mystique that humans insist on building around the simple biological drive to seek out a mate.”

“I would have to agree with that assessment, commander.” Solen said to T’Wan. “Chief,” Durgan said, “You’re human, and from Earth, Do you know who sang this song?”

“It’s very old. Mid-twentieth century.” The Chief said as he racked his brain for the answer. After a pause he continued, “I believe it was sung by a member of one of Earth’s royal families, Elvis Presley, if I’m remembering correctly.

The rest of the evening was filled with much joy and merry-making as Logan sang several other songs before having the computer create a holographic lead and back-up singers to sing the song play list that Marcus and Lisa had chosen. Eventually the reception ended at 02:00 hours when the holographic DJ finished what he had said would be his last song. Judging by how some of his crew had been leaving when he had left Logan guessed that Atana would be curing more than a few hangovers, and telling people not to drink as much, in a few hours.

Forward to Chapter 6