EP 5 ACT 4
Almost as soon as the runabout had departed, Hedrik realised that there was very little for her to do on the Bridge, except sit in the Captain's chair and watch the viewscreen, occasionally checking the navigation panel for any other ships - and even then there were two other non-affected volunteers doing just that. Narli had sped off at warp speed, informing her he would return in less than twenty minutes.
Following his departure, Hedrik had felt a flutter of excitement in her belly and instructed the eager young Bolian man they'd encountered earlier to take over - much to his delight. Passing behind tactical, she glanced over at the long line of unconscious humanoids stretching back into the starboard corridor - and at Christian, in particular.
Hedrik fair skipped down the ramp in the port side corridor and onto the Captain's deck below. Passing by the mangled mess of metal that was the administrative area and presumably a meeting room she trotted to the rear of the deck and entered the still-propped-open doors leading to the rear-most room on this deck: the Captain's office. Making a quick visual scan of the room, its curved walls and multi-panelled glass window behind the Captain's desk, she found nothing of interest, save its quirky design and layout. On the starboard side of the room, to the right of the fireplace, she noticed a panel had been removed from beside a narrow doorway and guessed the Captain had been attempting to open it to gain access to the starboard and forward areas of this deck.
Reaching under her garments and into her sporty knickers, she retrieved a small, dark brown, suede pouch and unwrapped it to reveal several dainty plastic and metal instruments. Within a minute, she had skilfully bypassed the doorway's ample security lock. A moment of panic befell her. Without a tricorder, Hedrik couldn't be sure if the area beyond the door was actually pressurised. Closing her eyes, she let instinct decide and punched the release, opening them again in time to see the single, but double-thick door panel shunt to the left, revealing a long, meandering corridor stretching down and away in front of her.
With a fleeting chuckle, and an almost-guilty glance in the upward direction, Hedrik entered the dimly lit space. Here, as with most places they had seen on the ship, objects of value had been removed from walls, presumably saleable technology ripped out to leave ugly, gaping holes. Emergency power in this area only provided a thin atmosphere, tolerable gravity and low lighting. The temperature was also a bit on the cool side for the Orion's liking.
Continuing her casual stroll along the corridor, she thought the selection of objects removed seemed haphazard, with some pieces of valuable equipment left intact. The bulkhead to her left was undamaged, but there was no way of knowing what was behind it in the thick wedge of space between this and the port corridor.
Sixteen or so metres later, passing an escape pod, the corridor narrowed dramatically and dropped in a short, steep gradient. Walking down the smooth slope, the corridor turned and widened again - more escape pods to her right and a much-buckled door to her left, presumable a part of the wrecked area on the port side. There was no signage to say where the door led, but Hedrik presumed it was around the same level as the ramp from behind the bridge.
The corridor then curved in toward the centre of the ship, and finally she got her first view of the forward-most point of the deck some way ahead. Passing several lounge chairs, a turbolift entrance and a wall of large piping and conduits, she entered the beginnings of the Captain's quarters. Looking back, Hedrik guessed the corridor wound round what must have been the underneath of the bridge and sub-bridge area, and now she stood below what must have been Deck One's forward observation lounge. As with the above area, this deck was also an equally wide, open space of oversized proportions.
"Wow," she exclaimed, taking in the stylised mock-Aztec pillars semetrically placed around a lounge area in the centre of the quarters where there were plush chairs and storage units, mostly antique, but from a variety of alien cultures, all left apparently untouched.
The internal arrangement was dwarfed though by the floor to ceiling windows that stretched around the perimiter of the apartment space from her 8 o'clock to her 4 o'clock - perhaps an extension of the angled windows of the observation lounge above. The vista of the nebula filled the deck and bathed her in its rich colour. The entire space would have to have been at least fifty square metres in all - maybe more.
Turning around, she noticed that these quarters contained a small, private holodeck integrated into the apartment walls and strategically placed behind the wall of pipes that plunged, angling into the deck just behind her. To her left and right, hugging the walls of glass panels, were two large raised areas. To the left, amazingly enough, was a small sunken swimming pool - empty of water, she noticed. To the right was the bedroom area containing a large, inviting bed, and behind it a state of the art bathroom.
Realising she had been gone from the bridge for almost 10 minutes, she ran into the bathroom and checked the sonic shower - her intended destination. Prying open panels and looking at all the internal gubbins, she seemed satisfied she could get it working. Being among all that body fluid and smell this afternoon had taken its toll, and a sonic shower beckoned her like a passionate lust.
A matter of minutes later, Hedrik had the unit working on a low, but adequate setting. Stripping off she stood inside, clutching her clothes in her hands and shaking them around to get them equally clean in the shower of sonic vibrations. The faint burning smell was delicious where once it had seemed unnatural to her - before leaving her Orion birthplace, she had only experienced bathing with liquids and the jelly creatures preferred by her coastal dwelling people. She sneezed wildly as days of grime was buffeted away from her nostril and ear hairs. Satisfied that she was clean, she remained in the shower for a few moments longer, making sure her clothing was getting a thorough seeing-to.
Stepping out into the softly carpeted bed area, she saw from her raised position the front-most point of the deck had a small, oval, sunken seating area with thick fur carpet - thicker than in the computer core, even. She walked steadily toward it. Her body responded to the cool air, but it was overcome by the luxurious feeling of the softness of the fur beneath her feet.
The feeling as she put her freshened clothes back on was sensational. The view she had as she turned to look out of the forward glass panels, however, was not. Positioned about a kilometre or so away was the distinct shape of the runabout, pointing directly at her.
* * *
Hedrik bolted onto bridge behind the Bolian, who looked at her nervously as she buttoned her clean blouse top.
"What is it?" she demanded, assuming his expression was that of someone conveying bad news.
"Feeling any better?" Narli interjected over the commsystem. He didn't wait for a response. "You should learn how to opaque the ship's glass when you strip off in full view of the Galaxy or less discriminate people than me might want to take advantage of the view."
Hedrik thought frantically, but her mouth was already doing the talking. "Did you make contact with the aliens?"
"Kind of," Narli replied almost jovially.
Behind Hedrik, the Bolian man gasped once again and rapped hard on the tactical display to get her attention. "Miss, there are ships, several of them, they're-"
"It's okay, I see them," Hedrik watched the main viewscreen with a sinking feeling as seven large alien ships appeared from the nebula and came to a halt behind the now tiny-looking runabout.
* * *
Hedrik stepped onto the hangar deck, wincing at the faint smell of old urine both in the corridor and on the deck itself. The volunteers had clearly done a reluctantly rapid job of clearing up the mess and making all the victims comfortable.
The Hudson gently passed through the forcefield and came to a vertical landing lengthwise across the deck. Its airlock hissed and opened, and out stepped three brightly-hued individuals. At first, Hedrik froze with shock, thinking them K'Tani. But then noticed that the multicoloured surface was skin, not clothing, and deeply textured - almost translucent in places, showing vague shapes of internal organs. The overall shape and facial structure was the same as the greyish aliens still resting on their guernies - the gaudy colour apparently only present when in full health.
The three aliens fussed around their fallen people with a variety of odd shaped instruments that emitted strangely musical noises and they chatted as they worked in an almost girlish way. Narli stepped off the runabout, supporting a groaning Lirik, wrapped only in a large blanket. Lirik dropped onto the step of the doorway, exhausted and still feeling sick, revealing to Hedrik his long, thick legs and thighs.
"They are here to help us, aren't they?" Hedrik asked.
"Uugh," Lirik muttered deeply.
"Still no power of speech?" Hedrik stepped closer, but making sure she didn't touch the pallid part Medusan.
"No, young lady," Lirik said with much saliva, "I just feel like shit."
One of the aliens turned from her two comrades and smiled. "You may well feel low or depressed for the next few days - at least until the pheremones work their way out of your system," s/he said.
"Doctor M," Narli introduced the alien, "this is Hedrik. She's our resident computer whiz and Orion lovely." Hedrik cocked her head but ignored his comment. "The Doctor here has supplied us with several canisters of gas to neutralise the pheramones - that should bring everyone back to consciousness. The gas will enable each immune system to do the rest of the work."
Lirik hauled himself to his feet, awkwardly but determined, revealing to Hedrik more than a little of his rotund torso - much to his annoyance. He hastily swathed himself with the blanket. "I don't care what the Captain says, this time I'm taking a sonic shower and bedding down in the runabout for definite."
Hedrik felt the Ambassador's amused expression on her body, but ignored it. "Doctor, will your own people be okay?"
The Doctor nodded. "They will need rest and a period of regeneration, but they will make a full recovery. We have you people to thank for that - these are two of our best geology specialists, and it would have been a great blow for our people to lose them."
Narli stepped over to make the threeway conversation more intimate. "The Doctor has studied the runabout's sensor logs and determined that the residual energy from the attack on the scientists' spacecraft could only have come from a K'Tani ship."
Hedrik felt her face tingle with fear. "So they are in this sector?"
The Doctor placed his/her hand lightly on her shoulder. "My dear, these days the K'Tani are just about everywhere. But they would not fare long in our nebula. They only make these occasional border incursions to let us know they haven't gone away."
"I'm - I'm sorry, I'm confused, you make it sound like this happens regularly," Hedrik said, looking to Narli.
"The K'Tani never left Qovakian space as its Government had us believe," the Andorian's antenna twitched slightly. "They laid low, bided their time and mobilised their forces before taking action. From what we have established, there have been pockets of territory under K'Tani control right through the so-called peace time."
"How many?" Hedrik asked.
"How many what?" the Doctor cautiously replied.
"The K'Tani, how many of them would you say there are?" the Orion, although never caught up in any interstellar incident save that on Ventax III, knew well the bumblings of many a Government - be it Cardassian, Romulan or Federation. For the invasion to have occurred here in the Outer Zone as it did, there would have to be a pretty gargantuan bumbling behind it. She turned to Narli. "It's time we knew the truth, isn't it? Knew exactly what kind of a fleet we're standing up against?"
The Doctor laughed politely. "Forgive me, I do not mean to appear rude. It's just the thought of you few people, in this almost blind and defenseless ship, standing up against the might of the K'Tani forces." The Doctor trailed off, seeing Hedrik's expression harden. "I could not guess the number of their vessels, but to give you a guide - it's probably in proportion to the number of stars you see out there."
Hedrik turned to gaze out of the hangar's open door, pointed as it was away from the nebula and in towards the rest of the Milky Way Galaxy. Was it millions or billions of stars she could see? Maybe the alien had meant only the hundreds of thousands she would be able to count if so inclined. Even then, the number was too large to visualise as a single Armada. The Doctor returned to her/his charges.
"You hear that?" she said to Narli.
"I hear perfectly well," the Ambassador said calmly.
* * *
Less than a day later, most people had fully recovered. Hedrik had kept her venture into the Captain's quarters a secret for now, hoping that Narli would do so as well, given his undivulging nature. But she had assisted in the repair of shared sonic shower facilities in what looked like troop quarters on Deck 8.
Despite their three major traumas in less weeks, the survivors were in good spirit. O'Hara had willingly accepted medical assistance from the Ere, the aliens with whom they had made First Contact, and as a result there was no one on the danger list any longer.
Unfortunately, the people with whom they had made contact were only a part of their race's Science League and had little influence on their home world. When Captain Christian requested help in repairing the ship, taking on supplies and the possibility of the Ere harbouring some survivors who wished to debark, he was told that the xenophobic attitude of the Ere ruling body would simply not allow it. Indeed, even as it was they could face penalties for such extensive contact with outsiders.
The Ere had instead given them the shortest and safest route map that would lead them through the nebula and into un-charted space beyond - far away from Qovakia and anything the Vekarians and Helan on board knew about. As the Fantasy flew hastily out of the nebula and into open space beyond, the Captain called to order the ship's first staff meeting in the Officers' Mess.
Christian sat at the head of the table. Seated on his left were Commander Struckchev, Lieutenant Commander Leonard, Ensign Souveson, Lieutenant O'Hara and Yeoman Lirik. On the right were Commodore Jackson, Rebbik, Ambassador Narli, Ganhedra, and Professor Karnak. Hedrik sat at the opposite end, almost on the civilian side of the table.
"As of this Stardate, I hereby take official command of this vessel. As of now, this is the USS Fantasy, a Starfleet vessel operating under Starfleet rules. In fact, this vessel began its life as the secondary hull of a Starfleet ship and it's registry is still on file, so I can even make it an official requisition under the circumstances. I'm not one for big speeches," Christian sat forward and spread his hands on the table. "I'm sure you all realise how precarious our situation is. We've been damned lucky so far, but we can't risk relying on instinct and fortune to see us through any more. We need to get this vessel ship-shape. That means exploring it. Repairing it. Adapting it to suit our needs. We'll also need supplies - food, fuel, water, weapons-"
"Medicine," O'Hara interrupted rudely.
"Thank you lieutenant, I think we're all well aware of how inadequate our medical support is right now. We can't do it all on our own either, that's for sure - we need help. We can start getting that right now from among our own people. I know a lot of survivors want to help - but they're going to need training. That's where some of you come in. Once they're up to it, then - and only then - will we even start to be ready to help our families, friends and colleagues who we abandoned in Vekarian space," the Captain watched the various reactions around the table. "For now, I'm assigning each of you emergency staff positions. Bear in mind this has less to do with chain of command than it has with the urgent jobs you need to get done. We can formalise arrangements later." Christian gestured to his right. "The Executive Officer will tell you your responsibilities."
Jackson rose from her seat and read from a padd with her new glasses. Her tone was resolutely dry and free of emotion, presumably not to convey her own personal opinions about the assignments - good or bad. "Chief of Bridge Operations, Commander Struckchev - take the Communications station as your position, mister." Struckchev nodded once. "Chief Engineer, Mister Leonard; Chief of Security, Ensign Souveson; Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant O'Hara." O'Hara was almost pleasantly surprised until she decided that it could not have been anyone else. "Professor, we'd like you to be the bridge Science Officer; Mister Rebbik, you are to be our primary Helmsman."
"Cool," Reb replied, grinning widely. Karnak didn't respond at all.
"Hedrik, we'd like you to continue working with Commander Leonard on the Computer Core - he tells me you're a proficient transporter operator as well," Jackson looked at the green woman who looked nervously at the large, handsome German. He in turn, the Commodore noticed, avoided the Orion's glance completely.
"That's right, ma'am," Hedrik said in her politest voice. A faint 'tut' sound came from the Ensign's direction.
"Our remaining assignments are rather unusual. Ganhedra, we would like to continue to use you as our primary advisor in this sector. We would like you to help Ambassador Narli to establish possible trade deals, and organise the ship's supplies - if you don't mind, that is," the Commodore gestured graciously.
"Of course, whatever I can do to help," the Andorian said in his sickly sweet tone.
"Likewise," Ganhedra butted in.
"And finally, Mister Lirik," Jackson glanced to Christian who seemed a little resigned. That look pleased the Yeoman a little. "You will head the team exploring the ship. You may use whatever resources you need - engineering, medical, science or security. You'll also be helping myself and the Captain to organised the structure of the ship, and you'll act as liaison with the non-volunteering survivors. My own job is initially to interview everyone on board, try and build a picture of who is dead, who is missing. I'll also be working with the Captain to gather intelligence on the K'Tani and the general situation."
Christian finished the rest of the briefing himself. "Each and every one of you have the right to appoint those who seem capable under your command. As mentioned, we'll make it all official later. You'll all be called upon to help in training the civilians, and in carrying out other duties as we see fit. Remember, these K'Tani have been defeated once before. We may not have the Ore to help us this time around, but I'm sure there are others who will help us. Any questions?"
There was a pleasant silence in the room.
"Good. You are dismissed."
All rose and dribbled out of the large room, with the exception of Ganhedra. He seemed to want to remain to speak with the Captain alone, but before Christian could speak, the old man was leaving. "Ganhedra, is something the matter?"
"Nothing that cannot wait, son," the alien said, running his hands through his hair and antennae.
Alone in the officers' mess, Christian wondered what kind of crew they would turn into. He wasn't enamoured to a few of his staff, but so far they hadn't let him down. Looking out at the stars and the disappearing nebula, Christian heaved an enormous sigh and left the mess, the lights automatically extinguishing themselves as he did.
From the shadows of the room, a small figure emerged. With shoulder length hair, it walked into the starlight, casting a faint shadow of its profile along the mess table, most notable of which was the distinct ridged nose bar of a Bajoran.
***
EPISODE SIX "BOUNTY"