Episode 27
Prologue
For the first time in weeks, Rachael Meyer
seated herself amidst Neelar Drayge, Bator and Erin Keller around their
customary table for breakfast. Today
was the day she had been looking foreword to for quite some time—her return to
duty. Doctor Hartman had given Rachael
permission to return to duty at her checkup last night, and the Marian had been
waiting in anticipation ever since.
The return to duty meant that Rachael would
finally reclaim some amount of normality in her life. She would be back, doing what she loved: counseling. Whatever inhibitions she had toward working
at the science station had vanished in the weeks since the accident. She would remind herself to never succumb to
the lure of the science station again…
Making the transition from vegetable in
sickbay to active duty was easy, since Rachael readily noted that the
conversation picked up right where it left off—absolutely nowhere.
“Brian is such a jerk!” Erin exclaimed,
slamming her hands on the surface of the table as she went off on her brother’s
latest misadventure. From what Rachael
could gather, Erin’s brother was some sort of explorer, though he didn’t serve
on a Federation starship. “His ship was
heavily damaged by an ion storm last week in the Calandra Sector. I told him not to go there, but does he
listen? No! Now he’s stranded on Deep Space Nine waiting for some guy named
Morn to deliver him a particle emitter for his deflector. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t be
waiting around for some guy named Morn for any reason!”
“The sultry men on Risa are more her style,”
Rachael quipped. “They all have such
cute butts!”
Erin hesitated for a very short, curious
moment before snapping out of her trance.
“Yeah,” she lied.
In her mind, Rachael could just barely
detect the lie. And within a few
moments, she lost whatever telepathic link she had with Erin. Rachael decided not to mention this
incident, but couldn’t help but wonder why Erin would lie about the men on
Risa. She usually jumped at the chance
to praise their good looks.
“So how are you feeling, Rachael?” Neelar
cut in before anyone else could speak.
Rachael glanced over to Erin, and noted she
looked somewhat relieved in the change of topic. Something is up, she assumed. “I’m feeling a lot better, though I’m not too terribly fond of
taking peridaxon every single day for the rest of my life.”
“Better safe than sorry,” said Erin.
Rachael nodded. “I guess so. My head is
still ringing, my bones ache, and the last few months are all a bit hazy, but
Doctor Hartman assures me that it will pass.”
“That’s good,” said Drayge.
Rachael saw his lips parting to speak again,
but no words came out. The Bolian was
distracted by something behind her. And
it was infectious. Soon, Bator was
looking at the same spectacle. Slowly,
Rachael turned around to see Captain Christopher entering the mess hall—and
coming their way. “This is a surprise!”
she exclaimed.
Erin blushed ever so slightly. “I guess I invited him to join us,” she
admitted, pulling up another seat from an adjacent table and handing it to the
Captain.
He took it, and inserted himself between
Bator and Erin. As he sat down, Rachael
saw the Captain catch the unnerving gaze of Matthew Harrison from across the
room. He was sitting with Kendall, Lucas
and Jayla, all of whom were still locked in some sort of conversation. Rachael ignored Harrison, and turned her
attention back to Alan.
At least she knew why Erin had been
resistant to the Risan men. But there
was something more. Rachael had invited
Alan to breakfast on countless occasions, and not once did he bother to show
up. And now, presumably on Erin’s first
inquisition, he magically appears.
Rachael forced a smile on her face, and rejoined the conversation.
“Oh!
You didn’t get anything to eat,” Erin grimaced as she looked at Alan.
“I’m fine,” he insisted.
“Breakfast—”
“—is the most important meal of the day,” he
finished. “I know. I ate before I got here.”
Erin sighed. “You don’t come to breakfast and not eat! It’s impolite!”
Alan quickly looked over his companions, and
his gaze immediately fell upon Drayge.
“Neelar isn’t eating,” he protested.
“I don’t eat breakfast,” admitted the
Bolian.
Confused, Alan shifted his gaze back over to
Erin. “I don’t seem to be following
your line of reasoning. It’s impolite
of me to eat and then not eat, but Neelar can not eat at all and
get away with it…”
Erin followed through the Captain’s
preamble, nodding intently along the way before concluding with a big,
conclusive nod. “It sounds to me like
you get it.”
“Trust me, I don’t.”
Matthew Harrison clenched his jaw and sighed
as he watched the banter between the Christopher and Keller. It made him convulse. “Those two appear to be getting quite
friendly,” he grumbled.
“It’s probably nothing,” said Lucas Tompkins
in his usual, stern demeanor. “You know
Erin, she’s a very friendly person. How
could you not be friendly around her?”
Matthew shifted his gaze over to Lucas. “You don’t know her like I do,” he said
softly. Their feud went all the way
back to the Phoenix Project of years ago, a long, treacherous journey that
resulted in more pain and suffering than anyone wanted to recall, including
Harrison.
He folded his arms nodded, unable to accept
the events that were unfolding around him.
Harrison readily noted that Kendall Johnson held a similar, disgruntled
look on his face. The Captain was after
all, encroaching upon territory that Kendall had only dreamed about.
For years, Kendall Johnson had dreamed of a
romantic night with Erin. And when he
finally was rewarded that night, it ended in the worst possible
way—rejection. Johnson hadn’t been too
bitter about it, until now. Harrison
could see the look of disgust on the Lieutenant’s face. He understood completely.
Suddenly, a considerable bout of laughter
emanated from Keller’s table. Harrison
peered on, seeing the Commander’s face practically falling into the Captain’s
lap as she doubled over. The Captain
grinned, and gently patted Keller on the back
“You call that nothing?” Harrison demanded of Lucas once the laughter
started to die down.
He shrugged indolently. “Does it really matter?”
Whether it did or not, Harrison was too
blinded by his anger to think clearly in the first place. Though he didn’t respond—there wasn’t time.
The red alert klaxon suddenly made itself
known.
Quickly, everyone vacated the mess hall and
proceeded to their stations.
“Report,” demanded Christopher as he emerged
from the turbolift with the rest of the command staff following closely behind.
Christopher stopped in tandem with Harrison
at their respective seats, and turned to the tactical station, awaiting Bator’s
report. Given the look on the Phobian’s
face, it wasn’t good.
“One Gorn heavy cruiser is on a direct
intercept course,” he said. “Their
shields are up and their weapons are armed.”
Christopher’s eyes widened. “Lovely,” he muttered. The Gorn had never been friendly with the
Federation, but aside from a brief skirmish on Cestus III, they had never been
openly hostile. And since they were
dozens of light years away from Gorn space, Christopher knew this wasn’t some
random attack. They had to have some
good reason for coming this far.
Another sensor alert.
Again, Christopher turned to Bator, and
again, the Phobian was thoroughly perplexed.
“One Ka’Tulan science vessel is decloaking off our starboard bow.”
And suddenly, the situation’s magnitude grew
by leaps and bounds. Obviously, the
Gorn were pursuing the Ka’Tulan ship, and being a member of that species,
Christopher couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Hail them,” he ordered.
“They are hailing us,” said
Bator before he could comply with the Captain’s order.
Christopher turned on his heel to face the
view screen. “On screen.”
Seconds later, two Ka’Tulans popped into
view, one male and one female. The male
was in his forties with a mangled mat of wiry, thinning brown hair and a
physique that was less than perfect.
His eyes were a pale shade of turquoise that seemed to glisten when he
smiled, revealing his set of almost perfect teeth.
The female was a petite young woman with
dark, shoulder-length hair and a winning smile, but her most noticeable
features were her blazing pink eyes, which looked very relieved upon seeing
Christopher. “Captain!” she exclaimed.
“My name is Tallera. This is
Navek,” she said, motioning to her partner.
“We need to seek refuge on your ship.
There’s no time to explain, but it is a matter of utmost imp—”
The transmission abruptly ended, replaced by
an image of the massive Gorn cruiser locking the small Ka’Tulan craft in the
green maelstrom of a tractor beam.
“The Gorn are emitting a rotating EM pulse,”
said Keller from ops. “They’re jamming
our transmission.”
“What is the Gorn vessel’s armament?”
inquired Harrison.
“They are heavily armed,” said Bator with
due haste. “They have superior
firepower, however their maneuvering abilities are limited. If it comes to blows, both sides would take
a beating.”
Christopher pulled in a lungful of air, and
slowly began to pace before his command chair.
Tallera’s plea for help sounded urgent—and she was a Ka’Tulan. This matter with the Gorn just became
personal. Tallera and Navek would get
all the help they needed…