| Stories → Here and Hereafter → Chapter 1: Delegations and Disaster |
| Delegations and Disaster | |
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31 July 2017 |
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Stars were always a beautiful sight, glimmering out in the deep black of space. It was dazzling to think of how many different worlds existed out there, orbiting those stars. One of those, Andoria, her homeworld, was a place she hadn’t visited in a long time.
"We’re about five minutes out, ma’am." The pilot’s words suddenly broke Sherah out of her reverie. She turned to the young woman with a smile.
"Thank you, lieutenant."
Sherah now turned to gaze on the looming structure was slowly filling the Tenaran’s viewport. Her shuttle was some distance yet from the Iconian space gate, but the sheer size of the thing was still daunting. Sherah briefly marveled at how the gateway allowed for instantaneous travel across the galaxy before refocusing herself on her mission ahead. Known throughout the Federation as a talented musician, she had been requested to perform for a group of delegates from the Delta Quadrant. Since her destination, the USS Sahving Valley, was mere minutes away Sherah needed to started her rituals to prepare for the performance.
Many didn’t understand the need for such little things, but Sherah found that they helped her to focus and remove the distractions of the day. She stepped back to the shuttle’s replicator and ordered a small glass of water, chilled to just below freezing. As she drank the liquid, she quietly recited an ancient Andorian poem that she had memorized as a child. After placing the glass back into the replicator, her lithe, blue fingers pressed a button to recycle it. Sharah then stepped back into the small cargo area of the Tenaran.
The last step of her preparation came late to the ritual. When she had first begun teaching at the Aldebaran Music Academy at the young age of twenty, Sherah became friends with one of the older instructors, a Human woman named Staci Carr. The woman had taken the young Andorian under her wing and helped Sherah adjust to her new responsibilities. Sherah had been a musical prodigy and was now the youngest instructor ever at the academy. But she had still been inexperienced with life outside of music. Staci had helped her with that. One of the things that Staci shared with her fellow instructor was an old meditation form from Earth, called yoga. In the small cargo hold of the shuttle, Sherah now began moving through some basic positions to help loosen her muscles and mind.
Lieutenant Commander Sophronia Chen was running late...again. She had been downloading and processing information about the members of the Delta Alliance delegation and had lost track of time. This was unacceptable. She was the only official member of Starfleet Intelligence onboard the Sahving Valley and needed to make a better impression. Making a mental note to sync her schedule alarms to her visual implant, Sophronia leapt into the turbolift as the doors flew open. She tapped her combadge.
"Commander Chen to bridge, has the delegation arrived?"
"You're in luck, Soph, only the Romulans have arrived and the musician is docking now." Even without her Borg implants analyzing the woman's voice, Sophronia could hear the mocking tone. "The Klingons just barely made it through the gate, so you have a minute or two."
"Thank you, Gii," Sophronia sighed in relief. "Perhaps next time you can page me before I’m running this late."
"But you’re always running late," Giial chuckled. "I just assumed that your chrono was permanently off."
Sophronia rolled her eye at this, but she knew it was all in jest. She had arrived aboard the Sahving Valley only a month ago. Starfleet Intelligence leadership had felt that each capital ship in Starfleet needed a dedicated intelligence officer to help coordinate the fleet and improve intelligence gathering. Sophronia had been quite content with her position as an analyst, but apparently Vice Admiral Rininz felt that her talents were better used elsewhere. When her assignment came, Sophronia had been a little anxious. She was a petite woman and former Borg drone and she was being assigned to one of the large, new Odyssey-class starships. On top of that, it was one of the few that President Aennik Okeg had named after Federation member worlds. So, not only was the ship large, but it was supposed to be a major symbol.
“Actually, you running late might be a good thing,” Giial’s voice brought Sophronia back into focus. “Ambassador Dixx wanted to meet the musician, sh’Prai, himself, but with the Klingon’s almost here he’ll need to remain on the bridge to greet the main delegation.”
Sophronia’s heart sank a little as she realized what was coming next. She had really wanted to be present when the Delta Quadrant representatives had arrived on the starship.
Giial continued. “He’s requesting that you go meet sh’Prai in the docking bay and escort her to the arboretum.”
A small sigh escaped Sophronia’s lips. She quickly cut it off, hoping that the woman on the other end hadn’t caught that.
“Understood. Gii, don’t let them start without me.”
Sophronia tapped her combadge to cut off any retort that her friend might give.
“Halt turbolift.” She said that a little too harshly. Missing the arrival of the delegation seemed to have disappointed her more than she realized. “Redirect to main shuttlebay.”
Sherah was so invested in her ritual that it took a moment to recognize that her pilot was calling for her through the comm. She pressed the comm on her wrist and answered.
“I’m here, lieutenant.”
The young woman’s voice came through crisp and formal. “My apologies for disturbing you, ma’am, but we’re docking now and I thought I should inform you.”
Sherah let a small smile creep onto her lips at the formality of the young pilot. Being the wife of a starship captain tended to elicit such treatment.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Gyrash. I will change and be up momentarily.”
Sherah absentmindedly tapped her comm to end the communication as she moved over to one of the storage lockers in the cargo hold. From it she pulled a long, shimmering gown and a pair of small heels to match. Sherah removed her blouse and trousers. She was a little sad to change out of them. They were quite comfortable, which is why chose to travel wearing them, but they definitely did not match the formality of the occasion. She folded the clothing and placed it inside a small satchel on the floor of the locker then she removed the dress from its hangar and stepped into it.
The gown was a gift from the Ferengi Grand Nagus and his wife. Sherah had performed at a celebration on Ferenginar the previous year and had apparently left quite an impression on the Ferengi leader. He told her the music “resonated in my lobes” and that he wanted to show his gratitude. Thankfully, his wife had been the one to choose the gift. Sherah had been a little embarrassed to accept the gown, but her husband had insisted. As she fastened the side of the dress, Sherah couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought that part of her husband’s insistence on her accepting the gift had been how far up her leg the slit on the right side of the gown went. He did regularly comment on her legs.
Sherah felt a slight shift as the shuttle’s momentum came to a stop. She slipped her azure feet into the black heels and headed for the cockpit.
“I see that we’ve arrived,” Sherah stated as the pilot turned at the sound of the cargo bay door opening. The Andorian inclined her head in a small bow to the young woman. “Thank you for conveying me safely, lieutenant. Now, would you be so kind as to arrange with our hosts to have my instruments taken to the arboretum?”
“Oh, of course, ma’am,” the pilot blurted as she made an attempt at a salute, then paused, unsure if that was correct.
“You needn’t use such formality with me, lieutenant,” Sharah smiled. “I am the wife of your superior officer, but I am not in Starfleet. I do thank you for the intention, however.”
With that, Sherah turned toward the main hatch and pressed the controls to open the door. Radzen Tos, her husband and captain of the USS Gheryzan, had a way of instilling respect in new officers and crew members that had them attempting to convey much more deference to Sherah than she felt was necessary or warranted. She reminded herself to spend a bit more time getting to know Lieutenant Gyrash on the return trip to the Gheryzan in order to help the young pilot be less formal in their interactions.
As the Andorian woman stepped from the Tenaran, she was greeted with a very familiar scene. The docking bay of the USS Sahving Valley was as busy as any other docking bay on a large starship, but it felt a bit more welcoming for Sherah since her husband’s command was also an Odyssey-class. Gazing around the bay, her eyes eventually came to rest upon a young Human woman with light brown skin, short, dark hair, and what looked to be a rather painful Borg implant covering her right eye. Sherah suppressed a wince at seeing the implant. She couldn’t imagine the pain and horrors that the young woman had passed through to have such a thing.
“I am Lieutenant Commander Sophronia Chen,” the Human woman stated. “Welcome aboard the Sahving Valley, ma’am.” The young woman stepped up to the shuttle and offered a traditional Andorian sign of greeting. Sherah was taken aback, she hadn’t seen that since she’d last visited her family on Andoria. Most Andorians had become so ingrained with the greater Federation that they had forgotten some of the small traditions of her people. She quickly recovered and offered the same visual greeting in response.
“Thank you, commander. I trust you’re here to escort me?”
“Affirmative. I will take you to the arboretum where the performance is to occur.” The officer continued before Sherah could ask about her instruments. “And your equipment will be seen to as well. The crew will bring it behind you shortly.”
Sherah nodded in appreciation. “Well, then, I suppose we should head up and prepare.” She then gestured to toward the turbolift. “Lead the way, commander.”
Ambassador Dixx stood talking with two of the delegates from the Romulan Republic. It had only been a few months since the Federation had formally recognized the government, but already members of the Republic were heavily involved in major events during that time. It sometimes stunned Dixx to think about the contention between the Federation and the Romulans of his youth. He remembered some of his peers in the Diplomatic Corps theorizing that the Star Empire’s involvement in the Dominion War was going to remove those tensions. Dixx had not been so optimistic. But he was grateful that decades later he was able to stand here and talk with members of a new Romulan government that sought for peaceful relations with not only the Federation, but the Klingon Empire as well.
Looking over the others gathered here on the bridge of the Sahving Valley, Dixx was pleased that events had led to such a gathering. Members of various planets and species who had been long-time members of the Federation were gathered here with relatively new members, Romulans, Remans, Ferengi, and Cardassians. The delegation that would be arriving shortly was just as diverse. Escorted by a starship from the Klingon Defense Force, the Delta Alliance representatives included members of the Benthan Protectorate, Borg Cooperative, The Hierarchy, Kazon Collective, and Kobali Demarchy, as well as unaligned members of the Hazari, Octanti, Turei, and Talaxian species.
Dixx saw the Sahving Valley’s executive officer step up to the ship’s captain, a Bajoran female, across the bridge. He took that as an indication that the delegation would be arriving shortly. The ambassador excused himself from the conversation with two of the Romulan representatives and moved towards the transporter pad at the rear of the large bridge. Folding his arms across his chest, Dixx nodded as Captain Sarish Marika stepped up beside him.
“Here we go,” the woman said dryly.
“We will be out of your hair soon enough, captain,” Dixx chuckled. “And then you can have your bridge back.”
Sarish’s religious earring gave a slight jingle as she turned to regard the Bolian ambassador.
“Interesting choice of phrase considering your hair situation,” she said as she looked over his bald head.
Her comment drew a chuckle from the older man. “We’ve been communicating for weeks, I’ve been on your ship for two days, and I just now discover that you actually have a sense of humor.”
“Ambassador, not only am I a starship captain, but I command one of the starships chosen to be a symbol in the Federation.” Her lips drew taught. “I don’t always have the luxury of levity.”
“Back to business, I see.” Dixx then nodded in agreement. “But I understand, captain. Your position is important, especially now.” He then turned to regard the woman once more. “That does not mean that you cannot still joke now and then. Oh, if only you knew some of my Vulcan compatriots in the corps. They have quite the dry humor to them.”
Sarish was about to reply when the ship’s operations officer, Lieutenant Commander Giall Asaris, interjected from her station behind them.
“Captain, the delegation is ready to transport over.”
“Understood, commander,” Sarish responded without turning around. “Energize.”
All eyes then turned toward the transporter pad and the arriving delegates. None then noticed a young Bajoran Starfleet officer surreptitiously hand a small object to a middle-aged female with the Romulan Republic delegation.
“This is a wonderful setting,” Sherah said in awe as she looked around. “I can’t believe I never thought to perform in the arboretum of the Gheryzan before.”
“It was Captain Sarish’s idea,” Sophronia stated. “She felt that a setting like this would make the representatives feel more relaxed.”
Sherah’s attention returned to the young officer. “And no doubt they need that. I’ve heard that this alliance was hard fought to create and almost as difficult to maintain.” She then noticed the shifting stance of the Human woman. “I can finish arranging things here if you have somewhere to be, commander.”
The woman gave a small start. “My apologies, ma’am, it’s just that I had hoped to be present when the delegates arrived. I am this ship’s intelligence officer and so…”
Raising a hand, Sherah interrupted, “No need to explain it to me, commander. I’m the wife of a starship captain, so I understand. Off you go. I can finish arrangements here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Sophronia said with a quick nod. She then sprinted for the exit.
The arboretum of the Sahving Valley was just a few decks down and forward of the bridge, but it still felt like an eternity as the turbolift took Sophronia to her destination. She knew she would be there soon enough, without having missed too much. But her desire to make a good impression on the crew and her superiors in Starfleet Intelligence was difficult to control. It always had been.
Suddenly, Sophronia felt the ship shake. It felt like a torpedo hit against the hull, but they didn’t appear to be in combat. When she arrived at the bridge and the doors to the turbolift opened she finally understood.
The scene before her was chaos.
Smoke filled the air. Debris was strewn about the bridge. As she stepped out from the turbolift alcove, Sophronia gasped. The transporter pad and the area around it were gone. A large chunk was missing from the hull at the rear of the bridge. Thankfully, shields had activated to stabilize pressure on the bridge or else Sophronia would have been pulled into the void of space.
Recovering her senses, Sophronia then began to scan the bridge for any survivors. The smoke was thick and the bridge lighting was out, but her ocular implant allowed her see past all that. She finally noticed two lifeforms at the stations to either side of the viewscreen and rushed over to the closest one.
“Computer, activate emergency medical hologram one on the bridge.” No response. There had been too much damage to the bridge. She tapped her combadge as she moved to the lifeforms her Borg implant had detected.
“Medical emergency on the bridge!”
The man in the chair was bleeding on the console, but appeared to be in stable condition. Sophronia recalled that his name was Nisat Fumos, an ensign and the conn officer on duty. He had grown up in the Sahving Valley on Bajor and this was his first post out of Starfleet Academy. Sophronia remembered having laughed at the coincidence when she saw his name on the crew manifest. But right now she needed to focus on keeping him and the other officer alive.
The other lifeform turned out to be the ship’s chief science officer, Skrizan Jol. He was a Ktarian in his late forties. Sophronia remembered that he had been quite excited to see the Iconian space gate in operation. That was probably why he was present on the bridge even though his duties didn’t require him to be present. Scanning him with her ocular implant, Sophronia was able to determine that his injuries were also rather minor. It appeared that the chairs both men were sitting in had prevented them from taking too much damage from the blast. And had kept them from being pulled into space she realized as she once more looked at the gaping hole in the hull.
Sophronia slowly crept around the command platform toward the back of the bridge. Using her ocular implant to scan for clues about what had happened, she almost didn’t notice the corpse slumped against the back of the command platform. The woman knelt to get a closer look and then let out a short, pained yelp. The damage to the body was significant, but Sophronia could still tell that it was her friend Giial. The location of the body indicated that the Ikaaran must have been heading down the stairs at the time of the explosion.
A swell of emotions crept up on Sophronia. Her logical side had managed to maintain control through the initial shock, but seeing her friend, really the only friend she’d made so far on the ship, in this state shook Sophronia to her core. She slumped to the ground, no longer able to process the situation.
She barely noticed when a medical officer came to her side and checked her for injuries. He finally realized that Sophronia wasn’t harmed and then moved to help the other medical staff with the two survivors by the viewscreen.
As Sophronia sat by the remains of her friend, her crying slowly came to an end as she hardened her resolve. She had been through worse. She had been betrayed, experimented on, and assimilated as a Borg drone. She could get past this, overcome this. But at the same time, she wanted an answer. She wanted to know who had done this and why.
She would then make them answer for what they had done.