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Post by norcaler on Sept 13, 2017 1:37:48 GMT
U.S.S. San Francisco
Minos Korva Sector, Alpha Quadrant
"Estimated time of arrival in the Bindaris system in...five minutes...mark," reported flight controller Ensign Sun Pak while Captain Nathan McBride paced behind her station and the ops station next to it. While this was merely yet another step in the major project the San Francisco had been overseeing for the past month, it was a step critical enough to determine whether or not it could continue. A whole lot of planning and preparations going on elsewhere hinged on whether or not McBride and his crew believed it was possible to do: to turn Hell into Paradise.
"Science stations standing by, Captain," reported Science Officer We'norra Ni'is. MciBride walked up to her station at the rear of the bridge, where the Caitian was seated. Both hers, Science Station 1, it's twin Science Station 2, and Mission Ops one station over were all manned and tied into the mission that the San Francisco was about to conduct. It felt like a very long time since that much effort had been put into scientific pursuits in McBride's time in command. "Multispatial probes standing by for loading."
"I'm glad Starfleet doesn't mind us using several of those expensive toys only for them to melt into metallic puddles," the captain remarked dryly.
"It cannot be helped, Captain McBride," said Saarke in a cheerful tone, a female Lukari scientist on board to assist with the project. She, like many of her species, seemed to be almost constantly upbeat despite the radical and almost devastating events that had occurred to her people for the past year and a half. "Based on the readings from the Exodus, even the unimatrix shields of the multispatial probe will only last a short time in Bindaris II's atmosphere."
"I know, I was the one who had to sign for all of them. Do you think we'll get enough data with the probes we have?"
"It should be enough in concert with what little the sensors can do. Even then we may not be completely certain that the protomatter cascade will work on this planet." And that had been the warning that had been repeated to McBride over and over again since the start of this assignment. That despite the Lukari's protomatter cascade, capable of reorganizing the matter of recently obliterated planets back into a world capable of supporting life, even that miraculous process may not restore a world so destroyed like Bindaris II.
"I ain't in the business of countin' chickens before they hatch or not," McBride commented, which drew a puzzled look from his Lukari guest. "Figure of speech."
"I see," Saarke noted. "I've been overwhelmed by the diversity of cultures and species among your crew alone. I've met more species since coming on board than I have in my entire life! How do you keep all the names and customs straight?"
"Sometimes I wonder that myself..."
"Captain, now entering the Bindaris system," reported Pak.
"Slow to impulse power," ordered First Officer Angela Gorman while McBride returned to the captain's chair next to hers. The world of Bindaris II quickly filled up the main view screen, a planet shrouded in thick, almost impenetrable dark clouds that totally obscured the surface both from orbital view and from allowing any light in. Five years ago it was Class M and home to a Federation colony of two hundred thousand inhabitants until a Terran task force obliterated the surface, killing all life and rendering in uninhabitable to most forms of life in the galaxy. Until recently the planet had been forgotten, save by those who lost loved ones in the massacre and a few Starfleet expeditions. As the Lukari began restoring worlds destroyed by the Tzenkethi, the Federation began considering using their protomatter cascade on planets like Bindaris. The San Francisco's mission, if successful, could be employed on other planets in the Federation; already plans were in effect to re-settle Bindaris if it could be restored to habitation and rumors were the Alliance was planning on working jointly with the Lukari and their Kentari cousins on at least one more planet. But that was still a large if.
An if the captain started let go by the waist-side once he heard a warning tone sound from the tactical console behind him. The officer manning it, Lieutenant Commander Elijah Turner, quickly announced, "Captain, I'm picking up a ship in low orbit of the planet."
"There wasn't supposed to be anyone else here," Saarke remarked, stating the quite obvious.
"On screen," McBride ordered quickly. The view quickly switched to that of just over the surface of the planet, a triangular shaped vessel with bright blue hull and yellow running lights standing apart from the dark clouds. The captain recognized it in a split second. "Tholians."
"Yellow alert," ordered the first officer.
"Confirmed, Captain; Tholian Mesh Weaver-class escort," stated Lieutenant Lysia Rixx from the Ops console. "Orbit suggests it's conducting a planetary survey."
"That might make sense, Captain," We'norra suggested. "Tholians would be one of the few sentient life forms capable of living on Bindaris II in it's present state. They may not know this was a Federation planet."
"I had my fill of them when they destabilized our star," commented the Lukari guest, showing a rare moment of disdain.
"They'r's breaking orbit, Captain," said Turner as the ship on the screen turned moved in the San Francisco's direction. "They just armed weapons!"
"Red alert, shields up!" Gorman announced loudly.
"Ready phasers, load torpedo bays," McBride commented in a firm though calm tone. He knew that the Tholian ship was no match for a battle-tested Galaxy-class starship like the San Francisco and while he could see that the Tholians might be unaware that Bindaris was claimed by the Federation, they were operating well outside of Tholian territory. He was also keenly aware that one of the last times the Tholians were operating so far from home was the time they invaded Saarke's home star system and that the vessel he just encountered might have friends near by. "What're they doing now?"
"Still closing, Captain," Rixx answered. "They haven't locked weapons yet."
"Might mean they're not stupid enough to take us on just yet. Let's throw 'em a bone; Eli, hailing frequencies."
"Aye sir," said Turner before pressing the proper controls. "Hailing frequencies open."
"Tholian vessel, this is Captain Nathan McBride of the U.S.S. San Francisco," he announced, an announcement he'd concede at a later time and place never got old during the five years so far that he had been making that announcement. "You're operating within a star system claimed by the United Federation of Planets without authorization. Please respond."
"They're responding..." A view of the bridge of the Tholian vessel and its captain appeared, reminding McBride of a period earlier in his career where he took part in an away team to a derelict Tholian vessel. Due to the fact that Tholians utilized walls and ceilings as they did floors, McBride had mistakenly looked up and suddenly became disoriented upon seeing consoles and view screens all around him. He was lucky he didn't vomit upon the face plate of his EV suit.
"Federation starship, this is Commander Yeskene of the Tholian vessel Zeb Tholis," McBride's counterpart stated, their voice rendered androgynous by the San Francisco's Universal Translator owing to their species possessing sex attributes of both males and females. "We find it curious, Captain, that you claim a star system with no habitable or useful planets to your variety of life form."
"This planet was home to a Federation colony destroyed five of our years ago," he explained. He had the feeling he ought to be coy about what exactly the San Francisco was doing in the Bindaris system since he was unaware how much the Tholians knew about the Lukari protomatter cascade and their intent to use it on the planet the Zeb Tholis was possibly surveying. "That doesn't mean it ceased to belong to us."
"Your lack of presence in this system allows for the Tholian Assembly to annex this territory. Our initial scans of the second planet indicate that it is suitable for colonization by our species."
"You're well outside your borders by a considerable number of light years. I'm gonna have to ask you to vacate this star system. Immediately."
"Typical," Yeskene remarked. "Your Federation wantonly expands to claim as much as the galaxy as possible, then uses threats and its force of arms to hypocritically prevent others from trying to settle even a tenth of what you lust after. We will comply with your order, San Francisco, for now. Zeb Tholis out."
McBride could almost describe the sudden cessation of communications terse as the Tholian warship reappeared on the screen, albeit briefly as it streaked off to the left of the screen. McBride turned and looked in Turner's direction, who without being told glanced down at his station, stating, "The Tholian vessel has gone to warp. Course 186 mark 3."
"Straight towards home," Gorman remarked while getting up from her chair to stand with the captain. "Question is if they'll come back and how many more ships will the bring? I don't think they'd give up on a planet like Bindaris II that easily if they really want it."
"If the protomatter cascade works, then the planet would become useless to the Tholians," commented We'norra. "That may dissuade them."
"That could cause a lot more problems, We'," stated Counselor Rhyllan zh'Jalleen. The Andorian remained seated, first directing her prior remark to the science officer before looking straight at the captain. "They could interpret our use of protomatter to turn a Class Y planet to Class M as a direct threat to them. A weapon of mass destruction."
"I remember an old line from my youth about spendin' too much time wonderin' if we could when we really should have been worried about whether or not we should," McBride said as he slowly returned to his seat, Gorman following a half step behind. "But, we're not gonna find out about the should if we just sit here. Stand down red alert. Helm, plot a course for standard orbit of the planet."
"Standard orbit, aye sir," Pak replied.
"We're going to continue with the survey?" asked Saarke.
"We might as well," said McBride. "I get the feeling that Starfleet's going to want us to stick close to the system in case the Tholians come back."
"Entering probe range now, Captain," said We'norra.
"Then by all means, Lieutenant, let's get this show on the road..."
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Post by norcaler on Sept 15, 2017 1:30:05 GMT
U.S.S. San Francisco
Bindaris II
"This isn't hellish, it literally is Hell," said Commander Angela Gorman in disbelief. The senior staff plus Saarke had gathered in the observation lounge, where the view out by the window was dominated by the cloud enveloped planet the San Francisco orbited. Up close, one could see the clouds swirl, the flashes of lightning discharges, and the eyes of cyclones the size of continents. But no one was looking at the planet.
"I only just recently learned of this mythological location from your Earth, Commander," Saarke noted. All eyes were fixed on one of the two display screens in the lounge, which was now cycling through images taken by the multispatial probes fired into the planet's atmosphere when the survey began two days ago. The gray and almost black plains and mountains were covered in an orange hue from active and erupting volcanoes and lava flows. Ash choked the air. While Gorman wasn't particularly religious, it wasn't too hard to imagine the souls of the damned being confined to the surface of Bindaris. "Also similar to the planet Venus in your Sol system, though I don't recall ever reading stories of people going there to chainsaw demons."
That unusual observation was about the only thing to get the senior staff to take their eyes off the screen, each of them turning to give the Lukari scientist a puzzled look. Her bright purple eyes darted from face to face, also looking quite confused. "...I was perusing programs on the holodeck. There is one depicting Hell like that. I noticed the captain logged a number of hours with it..."
"Let's get back to the task at hand, if y'all don't mind," McBride commented. "Is it as bad on the surface as the pictures make it out to be?"
"Quite, Captain," We'norra replied. "Surface temperatures ranges are comparable to most Demon class planets on record as are atmospheric pressure readings. Compared to the readings taken by the Avalon and Exodus, conditions appear to have worsened over the past five years. Combined with a number of corrosive elements present in the atmosphere, I would not recommend sending down away teams. Even the highest rated EV suits for Class-Y planets would not last long down there. I would estimate no more than five minutes after personal shield failure before suit integrity is compromised."
"And then it'll be a race to see whether choking to death or being incinerated kills you first," remarked Turner.
"What about the protomatter equipment?" asked the captain.
"Based on the what occurred with the probes," Saarke replied, "we believe we can protect the protomatter cascade point of origin with a unimatrix shield. Supplied with enough power, it can remain in place for as long as it's needed to prior to activating the cascade."
"Now here's the million bar question: will it work?"
The Lukari paused for a moment, perhaps for dramatic effect. "I believe it will, Captain. It will require the largest cascade array we've ever deployed, but it can be done. Thankfully the initial surveys of the planet prior to settlement were quite thorough. We can program the cascade's matrix with the original scans of the plant and microbial life forms taken from seventy years ago and hope to achieve around ninety-five percent restoration. Unfortunately, the amount of damage done to the planet by the Terrans makes it almost impossible to completely restore the planet's terrain, but I think the Federation can live with that, as you say."
"I'll take that as an endorsement," McBride said with a slight smile. "What's the next step?"
"The L.S.S. Wentesa has been tasked with deploying the cascade to Bindaris," she replied. "Once the Federation gives the final go-ahead, she can be here in a matter of weeks once her shakedown is complete."
"What about the Tholians?" asked Gorman.
"As we'd expect after our last encounter, not a peep," the captain commented. "Our assets on the Tholian border haven't picked up anythin' unusual and long range scans of this sector hasn't as of yet picked mysterious ship traffic. That doesn't mean they're not out there, so I'd like to keep an eye out in case they want to drop in on us."
"Recommend that the Wentesa be provided with an escort, sir," said Turner. "If the Tholians get wind of us asking the Lukari to use the protomatter cascade here at Bindaris, they might try to intercept her. And intelligence indicates that the Orion Syndicate just fielded a new class of warship, the..."
"Blackguard, yeah, I know."
"You do, sir?"
"A certain Orion who likes to brag mentioned it while we were at Risa," he explained, "but either way, I agree, Eli. A ship haulin' around that much protomatter should get one, anyway, regardless of any implied threat."
"I'm sure it will be fine," Saarke commented. "The Ho'kuun-class is very reliable and more than capable of defending itself."
"All the same, let's leave as little to chance as possible." McBride stood up from his chair and surveyed the senior staff. "Looks like we're done here until the Federation and Lukari Councils weigh in one way or the other. Once we get the green light, I'd like to get this set up and goin' as fast as possible. Dismissed."
Saarke and the senior officers exited through the door that led back to the main bridge, but Gorman remained, standing up with her hands behind her back. The order to be dismissed was obviously given, but she had served long enough as McBride's first officer to get a semblance of leeway from him. He looked up at her from her from his chair, saying only, "Speak your mind, Angie."
"Now that we know the protomatter cascade will likely work, I can't help but wonder just how that'll change things with the Tholians," she stated. She circled over to the windows and leaned against one of the frames between them. "Perhaps Counselor Rhyl was right, sir; that the Tholians will interpret our attempt to restore Bindaris II as a direct threat to them."
"Of all the damn planets the we're tryin' this on, we had to pick one the Tholians are interested in." He rose from his chair at the conference table and joined her at the windows; arms folded across his chest and eyes looking to the planet below. "To tell y'all the truth, I was kind of hopin' for Saarke to tell us the thing wouldn't work. It'd save us the headache with the Tholians, but I'm not so convinced this is about colonizin' a planet they can live on. We're too from their border for them to adequately protect a colony."
"Maybe the Tholians think that because of the Terran attack five years ago, they could do on Bindaris what they tried to do on Nukara."
"I don't think so," McBride said with a shake of his head. "I went back over the records from the old Avalon. Whatever process was used to see the portal strengthened the barrier between the two universes. Wish they'd try that at Vauthil Station, but most folks' read on it is that it's impossible to open a doorway to the Terrans' universe here."
Gorman then looked to the screen, still cycling through the album of images taken by the probes. "Hard to believe this planet was once home to hundreds of thousands. Even harder to believe it could be again."
"I'll admit the upside of this operation is that instead of destroyin', we're creatin'. Prepare a couple of probes to remain in orbit to monitor for Tholian activity. I want us back on our usual patrol station in two hours; I get the feelin' it's gonna be a long wait before we're ready to give this a try."
"Aye sir."
McBride stood next to her and watched the series of images for a brief moment before adding, "I just hope what we end up creatin' isn't more trouble..."
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Post by norcaler on Sept 30, 2017 1:41:08 GMT
U.S.S. San Francisco
Bindaris II orbit
"The telemetry uplink with the protomatter cascade has been established, Captain," reported Dr. Saarke of Lukari Prime from the bridge's Science Station II. Captain Nathan McBride couldn't help but smirk pridefully; the wasteland on the planet below was about to be transformed back into the paradise it once was five years ago. Smirking was about all he was allowing himself to do, standing in front of his captain's chair with his hands at his back. He didn't want to jinx it, after all. So far everything had gone right since the survey: approval for the project from the Lukari and the Federation alongside worries of a follow-up encounter with the irate Tholians. In the month or so since the San Francisco had been assigned to the restoration of Bindaris II, McBride had been innundated up to his beard with pessimistic projections and dire warnings about how this could go wrong or how it going right could lead to bad outcomes. So close to the end, he had his fill of both. "The Wentessa reports they're ready to initiate the restoration matrix."
"Estimated time to unimatrix shield failure at the delivery site?" he asked. An away team from the San Francisco and the Lukari vessel L.S.S. Wentessa had just completed deploying the means to turn Bindaris back into a Class M planet on the hellish surface, spearheaded by several of McBride's senior officers. In order to survive on the surface, the protomatter cascade was protected by the most advanced shields in the quadrant and the away team wore high-grade environmental suits procured from the Solanae Dyson Sphere. Still, the old Texan in him said that the worst possible time to fail was with two seconds to go and the game on the line.
"Thirteen minutes, Captain," said Science Officer We'norra N'iis from Science Station I. "We are well within the safety margin."
"Even with those suits from the sphere, it felt like we were cutting it a lot closer, sir," noted First Officer Angela Gorman, who had led the team to the soon-to-be-not inhospitable surface. "I could almost smell what it's like to be in Hell through my helmet..."
McBride smirked and sniffed the air on the bridge, remarking, "That explains the brimstone scent up here, Number One. Eli, open a channel to the Wentessa."
"Aye sir," Tactical Officer Elijah Turner replied before pressing the appropriate controls on his station. "Hailing frequencies open."
"Wentessa, this is the San Francisco. Initiate protomatter cascade."
"Acknowledged, San Francisco. Protomatter generators approaching saturation now." Due to the noxious and thick cloud cover, it was impossible to see the site from orbit, but McBride knew it was established on an island that would (hopefully) serve as the site of the first settlement of the new colony. The captain didn't see it for himself, but he could imagine what it looked like based on the previous telemetry images he saw: bleak, charred, and surrounded by a toxic sea. He'd rather see the end result than the beginning. "Initiating cascade in six, five, four, three, two, one..."
McBride stepped forward, now standing between the helm and operations consoles. He could see a faint green light through the clouds, flickering faintly at first before solidifying into a strong glow, begging to spread outwards. The whole planet was soon completely enveloped, shining brightly enough that he had to look away briefly. The almost blinding sheen started to fade, revealing a reduced cloud cover now white in color, with land masses of brown and vast oceans of blue. It was almost as if he was now looking at a different planet in a completely different star system. "Cascade complete. Restoration matrix appears to be working."
"Reading an increase of nitrogen and oxygen in the planet's atmosphere, Captain," added We'norra. "Global temperatures are stabilizing in previously established ranges and...sir, detecting planet life. Grasses, trees..."
"I'll be damned," McBride said in astonishment.
"You sound surprised, Captain," said Saarke.
The captain turned away from the view screen, believing he'd have plenty of time to admire the planet both from afar and up close. "It's a human thing, Doctor. Some of us only believe somethin' will happen until it actually does happen. How long before it's safe to send down an away team?"
"Obviously due to the amount of protomatter needed, the restoration matrix will take longer to complete. I estimate we can beam someone down in about thirty minutes."
"Dare I ask if you want to lead the away team, sir?" Gorman asked with a wry smirk, suggesting this wasn't going to be one of those instances where she'd invoke the regs and stop him from trying. Even if she wanted to, he was already on his way towards the aft turbolift.
"You could, if y'all wanted to," he replied as he walked. "Dr. Saarke, We', Eli: suit up and gear up. We'll be beaming down from transporter room two in a half an hour."
"Aye sir..."
****
Roughly thirty minutes later, McBride and his small away team materialized on surface, feeling a pleasant breeze immediately wash over him. The island was definitely of the tropical variety, immediately recognizable as such by the palm trees along with the warm and slightly humid weather, which thankfully didn't feel oppressive to the captain clad in his excursion fatigues. The seas that were once raging and acidic were calm and bright blue. Volcanic islands in the distance that might have been constantly erupting and further degrading the environment were now dormant. It almost reminded him of Risa sans the tourists, monkeys, and giant birds. He inhaled a deep breath, let it out slowly, and smiled. "Gotta love that new planet smell..."
"I..I almost don't believe it," Turner remarked, sounding like the sight of the restored Bindaris had robbed him of his breath. "This is almost exactly where we were an hour ago and now this?"
We'norra knelt, taking out a tricorder and beginning a scan. "Reading bacteria in the soil, Captain. Comparable to types observed prior to the Terran attack."
"Reading the same for all plant life as well, Captain," added Saarke, consulting her own Starfleet tricorder. Unfortunately, the restoration matrix was incapable of recreating animal life forms beyond single celled organisms. New animal life would have to be deposited during the process to resettle the planet. "My initial readings indicate a ninety-seven percent restoration in the general area. We'll need to send down additional away teams to verify the global percentage, of course."
"Sounds like it could take months to do that, Captain," Turner said with a smirk. "Even years."
"We'll let the colonial people worry about examining every blade of grass; priority here is to secure the main site," McBride said, tapping his combadge and subconsciously looking skyward. "Away team to San Francisco."
"Go ahead, Captain," Gorman answered.
"Initial scans check out. Authorize additional survey teams and have them start beamin' down."
"Aye sir. I hear they're already backed up down the corridor on Deck 8 waiting for the green light. Shall we inform Starfleet?"
"That's affirmative; tell them..." he said before pausing, trying to come up with just the right words for the occasion. "...tell them that Bindaris II is open for business again. McBride out."
He turned to look to his away team, though they had already started to wander off in various directions, albeit Turner with his phaser rifle in his grasp instead of a tricorder. Additional away teams began to beam down and in turn began to split up and scatter about the island. McBride looked over the island, the rock formations, the trees, before turning back to the ocean and the islands in the distance. In his experience, the captain had very little to do on a survey of a new world. It didn't make just standing around appreciating the views, particularly one he and his crew had a hand in restoring, any less satisfying...
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Post by norcaler on Oct 4, 2017 4:37:58 GMT
Bindaris II
It didn't look like much, thought Nathan McBride. The future home of the colonists of Bindaris II was merely a skeleton, frames entwined into various stacked boxes with various prefabbed ramps and stairs linking the various levels. But a week ago, had the metal structure been standing where it was would have melted within minutes due to the planet's previous environment. The waterfall and stream running through the center of the complex had been a stream of molten lava. The planet had experienced a dramatic change in the past few days and would continue to do so during the coming months and years. McBride still felt a sense of pride that he and his crew had played a hand in bringing Bindaris this far.
"My guesstimate says we should have the wind generators online in about two weeks," remarked Jason Hunter, head of development for the new colony. A few years McBride's senior, Hunter was once a starship captain. To the captain of the San Francisco's recollection, their paths had only crossed once before today, back at the annual Starfleet Academy marathon on Danula II when McBride was a freshman and Hunter in his final year. And by path crossing, it was when McBride passed Hunter on the final grueling portion of the run known as "Heartbreak Hill." Obviously much had transpired in the years since. "And the mine around the same time. We might even start work on the Phase I construction at the main complex after that."
"That's the control and security center, right?" McBride asked. As the colony was getting itself up and running, the San Francisco was taking charge of Bindaris' security and coordinating the civilian traffic in orbit. While Bindaris was not getting as much attention and resources that the new Lukari and Kentari colony in the Dranuur system was receiving from the entire Alliance, there more than a few cargo vessels in orbit transporting down cargo and workers.
"That eager to get out of here?"
"Current orders say that we're only to remain on station until basic C&C and defenses are up and runnin'. After that, we hand off to y'all in colonial authority."
"That's what I thought it was going to be when I got sent to New Talax; two weeks and gone. Then three years went by and I came back to see all my kids grew about half a meter. At least here I'm closer to home. Hell, I might as well build a home here while I'm at it." Both men walked up to a railing at the central complex's lower level, looking out over the small cove at the southern end of the island. "Still, feels strange to be here after what happened five years ago. Any word on the memorial site?"
"Not yet," McBride said. It was Jason Hunter's counterpart from the Terran Empire that had destroyed Bindaris II. The younger captain could understand the important symbolism of the proverbial "good twin" helping the effort to rebuild the planet but he couldn't imagine the various mixed feelings running around in Hunter's head. "Do you miss it? The uniform? The center seat?"
"My career was toast the second I lost the Avalon; I won't miss having my nose constantly rubbed in it," Hunter said with a slight albeit still infectious smile. "No, I will miss the people. Arcen, Hromar, Mexis, Kiso. People I'll never see again like Rin and T'Kor. Tiana, a little..."
McBride blinked in surprise. "Wait, Tiana? As in Tiana RasTalon?"
"You know her?"
"Know her? First time I ever ran into Spots I was answerin' a distress call from Exodus. Next thing I know she's docking her ship's saucer section to a Resolute-class star drive while taking fire from a Borg tac cube and then barrelin' like hell towards Starbase 146. Then I get dragged to her home planet over some business with the Klingons..."
"Sounds like her," said Hunter with a smirk, staring out over the water as if remembering something. "This place almost feels like Risa."
"I keep expectin' someone to remind us that the dance party starts in half a minute," McBride remarked.
"'Get out on the dance floor!'" Both men laughed heartily for a minute before trailing off. Hunter broke the pause by mentioning, "You know, there are plans to build a morale center on the beach like Dranuur. Maybe Risa should be worried we're..."
"Gorman to Captain McBride," the first officer of the San Francisco interrupted via communicator, which drew a reflexive slap of the combadge on his chest.
"McBride here."
"Never lets you have a moment of peace," muttered Hunter wryly.
"Sir, a Ferengi marauder has just entered orbit. They're not answering our hails."
"Is this about the soup shuttle?" McBride asked, a question a few months ago would have seemed ludicrous to any sensible person.
"Oh for the," the former Starfleet captain said with a roll of his eyes. "I told them the landing pad wouldn't be ready for commercial traffic until Phase 4...!"
"Captain, they're energizing transporters! Coordinates close to your position!"
McBride reflexively raised the old phaser rifle slung over his back; there hadn't been much logical reason for him to beam down with it since the planet was devoid of any hostile lifeforms, let alone any animal life to speak of, but now for a split second he was satisfied over his overabundant sense of caution. Just over the water about ten meters in midair there was a transporter beam with a slightly musical hum that materialized a diminutive form. Before McBride could get a look at it, it began to plummet straight down, the flailing limbs and deep throat scream of "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" indicating that it was a person. Whoever it was struck the water with a tall splash. After a few seconds, there was nothing but the now calm waters.
"Ah hell," McBride said before sprinting down the ramp to the shore with Hunter running close behind. He discarded his rifle on the shore as Hunter tore off his work vest.
"Captain, the Ferengi have gone to warp. Do you want us to pursue?"
"Negative; tell sickbay to stand by to receive a possible casualty!" Both men quickly waded into the water and started to swim across the surface towards where they saw whoever it was the Ferengi had discarded had fallen.
Before they could get there though, said discarded individual breached the surface, spitting out water and gasping for air. He was a Ferengi and one who's presence McBride grimaced at, paddling towards him as the flailing new arrival shrieked, "HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME! I CAN'T SWIM!"
"Calm your ass down!" McBride said as he swam within arm's length of the Ferengi male, grabbing him forcefully by one arm while Hunter grabbed him by the other. After both humans nodded in understanding towards each other, they started to swim towards the shore with their rescuee in tow.
"THANK YOU, THANK YOU!" the Ferengi screamed loudly. "WHATEVER YOU WANT, I'LL GLADLY...!"
"Shut your damn mouth before y'all make us go deaf, Paig!" McBride barked back at him. Once they reached the beach, the Starfleet captain just let go and let him drop on the beach, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. He looked back and saw the Ferengi prone on the shore and coughing while Hunter stood there in almost the same pose as McBride.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
McBride replied with, "Regrettably..."
****
An hour later after the Ferengi was looked over in the San Francisco's sickbay and after McBride had changed into his standard and thankfully dry duty uniform, the not quite almost drowning victim sat in the captain's ready room, flanked (both with stern, crossed arms) by First Officer Angela Gorman and Chief of Security Elijah Turner. The Ferengi was still draped in a sickbay blanket over a standard jumpsuit he'd been issued to replace his ocean-soaked wardrobe, scowling the whole time.
"So would y'all mind explain' why Bindaris II got dive bombed by you of all people, DaiMon Paig?" McBride asked, standing at the window with his hands behind his back and feeling fairly certain that Jason Hunter probably didn't miss this aspect of being a Starfleet captain. He turned around to face his guest with an angry glare. "And as the bomb and not the bomber! Did y'all's crew mutiny on ya?"
"Worse," the Ferengi grumbled. "The FCA and guiMon in Chief relieved me of my daiMon's status over what happened with my BS..."
"Well that much is obvious," Turner quipped sarcastically.
"Quiet, you! This all Ivex's fault! Or Novum's! One of them! One of them set those Orion caju against me over our BS."
"Now why would Orion Syndicate families get their metal panties in a bunch over soup, Paig?" McBride asked as he sat down.
"Do you know what he's talking about, sir?" Gorman questioned.
"...Regrettably."
"It's not the soup, McBridge!" Paig scoffed.
"...McBride."
"Whatever!" The Ferengi sneezed, which seemed odd since the waters of Bindaris were warm and unlikely to provoke such an involuntary action from someone taking a dip in them. "It was the wingslugs! Ivex and Novum wanted to add wingslugs for our BS menu..."
"Could you for the benefit of my officers tell them what BS stands for in this situation?" asked McBride, trying not to descend into a fit of hysterics over the unfortunate nomenclature of Paig's apparently now failed business venture.
Paig paused unceremoniously before muttering, "...Bellator's Soupcraft..."
"That somehow doesn't sound less ridiculous as calling it BS," Turner said dryly.
"I warned them not to get into the wingslug business!" Paig complained. "Instead I find out that the two caju who own the most prominent wingslugs in the quadrant suddenly called off their feud and posted the biggest bounty in the galaxy for a Ferengi on me!"
"Maybe you should be flattered, DaiMon," quipped Gorman with a smirk.
"It's not DaiMon anymore, fee-male! Once the Ferengi authorities found out what happened, I was relieved of my command for 'Conduct detrimental to the acquisition of profits.' They ordered my first officer to drop me off at the nearest planet capable of supporting life."
"And it just so happened to be Bindaris," McBride remarked. "So why's this our concern?"
"Because, hew-mon," Paig said sharply, "every bounty hunter in the galaxy is after me. Orions, Nausicaans, Hirogen! The wingslug concern among the Orions doesn't even care if I get brought back in alive; they'd be happy if there was barely enough of me remaining to put on their menus!"
"Ouch," remarked Turner. "No honor among thieves or chefs, I guess..."
"Still ain't hearin' how this is our problem..." the captain said in a leading tone. "You were the one who was dumb enough to get in bed with those Orion Syndicate jackals, now you come whinin' to us about how they're treatin' y'all like they treat people they don't like..."
"I request..." Paig prefaced. "...asylum!"
There was a brief silence among the San Francisco officers as the trio exchanged glances and for McBride's part he was trying to look into the eyes of his subordinates to see if just doing that could get him a reason he could refuse the Ferengi's plea. Unfortunately, neither the glances nor the thoughts that came to him could; here was a man clearly fleeing in fear of his life asking for sanctuary in the United Federation of Planets. And the state Paig was in sitting across from McBride's desk seemed to pass the eyeball test of tired, poor, and huddled, and at least yearning to breathe anything at all other than his own death.
"Please, McBridge..."
"McBride," Gorman said sternly before the captain could.
"..I have no where else to turn!" Paig pleaded, holding his hands together as if in prayer. "My ship is gone, my BS under the control of the people who're trying to have me killed! Let me stay here on Bindaris! I'll gladly pull my own weight..."
"Which isn't a lot," Turner joked.
"...I'll be a bartender if I have to!"
"Captain, with all due respect to Mister Paig here," Gorman preambled, "but the last thing Bindaris needs is to be on the defensive against bounty hunters before or after we set up the colony's defenses."
"And I certainly don't want to have to keep watching out for a Kolasi-class siege destroyer looking to collect on his head if we keep him on board, Captain," Turner added.
"And yet, Eli, we're obligated to do as much until the Federation decides his asylum case," McBride said as he rose from his desk and went back to his window. "Mister Turner, take Mister Paig to guest quarters until we figure out what to do with him. Preferably as far away from my cabin as possible."
"Aye sir."
"You won't regret this, McBride!" Paig said as Turner led him out of the ready room with a firm grip on his shoulder. "I'll see that you're wonderfully compensated...!"
Gorman waited a moment after the doors closed before asking, "We're not keeping him indefinitely, sir?"
"No, we're not, but I ain't handin' that pathetic fool over to be slaughtered," the captain said. "Let's sit on this until Bindaris' C&C is up and runnin' before we have to make a choice..."
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Post by norcaler on Oct 21, 2017 23:54:55 GMT
The damnedest part as far as Paig was concerned was that it was such a tasty soup he was eating. It was all part of the plan he had bought into; eat the lobster bisque from Bellator's Soupcraft in front of as many witnesses in Quark's as possible and let it interact with the chemical Xel Raego had injected him with moments earlier do its thing. Paig was putting a lot of faith (and latinum) into everything working right as he was essentially consuming what would become a poison in his stomach. He just wished he could have actually finished his soup for as soon as the third spoonful was swallowed, he felt his entire esophagus constrict. His throat tightened rapidly to the point the airflow suddenly ceased. He turned from the bar and Hadron and only saw vague shapes standing behind him where he knew Novum and Ivex had been mere seconds ago. He tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face onto the bar's floor, perhaps seeing the last sight he'd ever see in his life...and he could think of as his brain was choked of the last bits of oxygen was that Paig, formerly a daiMon of the Ferengi Trade Alliance, might by dying a few centimeters from a week's old vomit stain.
"You sure this will work, Raego?" he had asked of the Zibalian smuggler a few hours earlier aboard his ship. While arrangements had been made to terminate certain bounties and assassination orders against Paig thanks to someone in Bellator's Soupcraft antagonizing the Orion Syndicate's leading caju in terms of wingslugs, it had come to his attention that certain other Orions he had crossed in the past were now looking to make him pay with renewed zeal. Stripped of his daiMon title, his ship, and most of his funds, he had no where else to go.
"It's exactly how I outlined it, Paig," Raego explained. "You take this hypo, you go into Quark's and get someone to send a BS lobster bisque, and I'll take care of the rest."
"And what if something goes wrong?"
"Then you won't be around to know anything's gone wrong..." It hadn't been the most promising sales pitch, but it was Paig's only means from getting out from under the death marks that had been placed on his head. He willingly ate the soup that Novum had delivered and let Raego's plot take it's course and as he blanked out on the fouled floor of Quark's, he had wondered if he'd get a glimpse of the Divine Treasury. If he'd be visited by the Blessed Exchequer in the hopes what meager profits he had made in life would enable him to bid on a new life. Instead he blinked and saw the metallic, practically rusted ceiling of someplace else and Raego standing over him, saying, "Easy, easy. Don't move around too much..."
"What...?" Paig asked, his voice cracking and hoarse and even with that sounding slightly unfamiliar. Despite the smuggler's suggestion, he did try to move only to find himself unable to move his limbs due to being tied down to some bed that just now he discovered he was strapped to. He meekly lifted his head and looked about and noted he and Raego were alone in a crude sickbay of some sort. Only then it dawned on Paig that the plan had worked. He slumped back onto the biobed and asked, "How long...?"
"About a week. Sorry it took so long, but I didn't want to bring you out of stasis until after Paig's vacuum desiccated discs sold at auction. And at way more than I had thought."
"Paig's discs?" He strained again at the restraints holding his wrists and ankles in place, even more so as he heard himself talk. "What are you on about, Raego? And what's wrong with my voice?"
"Don't overexert yourself, Mr. Forg," the smuggler said as he leaned against the biobed next to the Ferengi's, his hair slicked back and full and not the half-shaved and hideous mess it had been before, lending credence to his suggested passage of time. "I did as you asked. After Paig dropped dead in Quark's, I took you over to Adigeon Prime for full facial reconstruction, vocal cord re-engineering, DNA re-sequencing. And if it weren't for your damn four-lobed brain, Mr. Forg, they could have also wiped Paig's memories and make this new identity completely believable."
"What?" he asked in a panic. His voice did sound different and if he could tear away his bonds he'd check to see what had been done to his face. Once it finally hit him that Raego had done everything Paig had asked him to do, he slumped against the bed and scowled. "So...I am dead."
"Well, Paig is. All his debts have passed to his designated heirs, all bounties and death warrants rescinded the second his remains were auctioned off. You now my friend are Forg; a Ferengi of little history and little success. It's a common enough name as I understand it..."
"Except more than a few of them are quite successful! And some of them might not take kindly to...what kind of a voice is this? I'm so raspy I sound like your Gorn!"
Raego held up a hand mirror and angled it for "Forg" to see his new face. Cheekbones, nose, jaw, eye color; all so alien to him that he might as well have been looking at an image on a PADD. The smuggler captain added, "I know it's not much to look at, but this is your new face. Your new life, Forg. Small price to pay for not getting assassinated, isn't it?"
"Fine..." Forg grumbled. "I'll assume you'll be wanting extra over what I paid you for all the trouble you went through..."
"Actually, the brick of latinum Paig's discs sold for covered the costs on Adigeon Prime with a tidy profit left over," Raego said with a smile before setting the mirror back down. That was certainly a lot higher than "Forg" thought "his" remains would have been valued at; perhaps the smuggler had better lobes for business he let on. "But, let's make one thing clear. I wasn't in this for a brick of latinum and I certainly wasn't in this out of the kindness of my own heart. You, Mr. Forg, now owe me a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"One that I will think of the moment I decide to cash it in." Raego turned to leave the sickbay then turned back around with a bit of a swagger, adding, "And just in case you get in your head that you want to back out on this deal for whatever idiotic reason, know that everyone in the galaxy will know that 'Forg' is Paig reincarnated in a heartbeat if you do."
The new Forg hoped that if in the event that it came to that Raego seriously underestimated one Ferengi in particular who's birth name was Forg, but decided not to press it considering the clear disadvantage he found himself it. "And where exactly are you taking me, Raego...?"
"The last place they'd look for a nobody like you, Forg," he replied. "We'll be arriving shortly. I do hope you end up enjoying Bindaris..."
"Last place?!" the Ferengi hissed. "That's the first place they'll look for me."
"But 'they' believe Paig is dead. And he is as far as anyone else is concerned. Unless you do something stupid. So if I were you, I'd get used to wrapping my bloated head around the notion of being Forg for the rest of my life. You know, so you actually have a rest of your life." Raego departed sickbay and Forg started staring at the ceiling again. This had been what Paig paid for and now Forg the nobody was going to have to learn how to live with it.
****
Bindaris II
"...I don't know who's vocabulary is harder to understand: Dr. Hume's or Dr. Kal'ta's," muttered Jason Hunter as he climbed the steps back up to the colony's main compound. Juggling construction versus the scientific needs of studying the restored Bindaris was proving to be difficult for the up and coming colonial administrator, though thankfully not as problematic as say New Romulus. Throw in unforeseen delays in construction and Hunter's second career was proving to be eventful. He made his way over to the landing pads, finding Captain McBride there coordinating with a few of his crew members from the San Francisco. "As good as your word, Captain. The construction materials for the morale center on the beach arrived this morning."
"Thankfully the U.S.S. Marvick was able to divert 'em," he replied, while consulting a PADD. "Guess those ugly new whales are good for somethin'. What's that do to y'all's time table?"
"We can get the ops center and security systems up and running in a couple of days thanks to the Marvick." While Hunter was now no longer privy to any brand new starship designs that Jayce Interstellar hadn't covered, he wagered that the ship that had been diverted had some engineering focus given it was named for a legendary warp engine designer from the 23rd Century. "Any word on the staff for the morale center?"
"They just told me their ship's enterin' orbit now. Should be already beamin' down. Look, I gotta go check on somethin' back on the ship. If anythin' comes up with the timetable, let me know."
"Right," Hunter said and turned to start making his way towards where construction on the beach morale center had begun, only to collide with someone. Before even looking down to see whom he had run into, he immediately apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you..."
"Forget it, hew-mon," a short Ferengi male said in a raspy voice. He was clad in a simple utility suit and was already on his hands and knees picking up what few belongings he had with him. Hunter already gathered that he was part of the staff for the new morale center.
"Here, let me help you..."
"No need!"
Hunter scrutinized the Ferengi a moment while he stood back up, swearing that there was something somewhat familiar about him. Then again he hadn't been dealing with a lot of Ferengi over the past few years, so he hoped he wasn't coming to a premature judgment. Cautiously, he asked, "Have we met...?"
"I am Forg," the Ferengi simply said before wandering towards the compound, both leaving it at that and Hunter tempted to scratch his head...
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