Do Not Panic

Posted on Thu Mar 19th, 2026 @ 1:11am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Commander Ash Randall & Commander Zhora zh'Roothi & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Commander Aidan Datari & Lieutenant Urvasi Elandorn & Lieutenant Rio Kholin MD & Lieutenant Amber Laurell & Lieutenant Herbert Barr

7,997 words; about a 40 minute read

Mission: 8. Epidemic
Location: Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-08-27, 01:15

Commodore Wilkan Targaryen reached for the chime of the manual override, his hand fumbling for a moment against the cold bulkhead of the Ready Room. Every centimeter of movement felt like navigating through a thick, silver fog. To his left, the small, crystalline fragment of Talu ice sat on his desk, a mocking reminder of the world currently screaming for his blood.

He didn't call for the door to open. He didn't want the Bridge crew to see him blinking like a stranded pilot in the sudden spill of light. Instead, he stood in the shadows of his office for a heartbeat longer, forcing his breathing to slow. Galatea’s logic was ironclad: he was a sub-optimal asset in this state. Rio’s hypothetical lecture was already ringing in his ears. But he knew the Talu. He had looked into those four-eyed stares and seen a culture built on the visibility of strength. If he hid in Sickbay while their world choked, the Federation's reputation in this sector wouldn't just be damaged; it would be extinct.

He pressed the pad. The door hissed open.

The Bridge was a sensory assault. Even with the "night watch" lighting still partially in effect, the primary viewscreen was a massive, glowing aperture of white and blue as the Enterprise plummeted toward the Talu system. To Wilkan, the command hub was no longer a familiar workspace; it was a chaotic landscape of jagged light and abstract shapes. The tactical consoles were smears of crimson, and the science stations were blinding pulses of cobalt.

He stepped over the threshold, his boots sounding unnervingly loud on the deckplates. A wave of vertigo hit him as the floor seemed to drop away, a side effect of his brain trying to make sense of the scorched data coming from his retinas. He reached out, his fingers brushing the cool, curved edge of the Science Station that encircled the command well. He gripped it with a white-knuckled intensity, using the tactile sensation to anchor himself to the ship.

"Commodore on the Bridge," a voice called out in a sharp, professional tone, but it carried an edge of confusion.

Wilkan didn't turn toward the voice. He couldn't risk the shift in perspective. He kept his head bowed slightly, his eyes half-closed against the glare of the viewscreen. He felt, rather than saw, the movement of the officers around him. The air on the Bridge was charged with the ozone of high-output processors and the subtle, metallic tang of a crew pushed into red alert.

"Report," he commanded. The word was a rasp, but it carried the weight of the Targaryen name, steady and unyielding.

Kuzos stood at the center of the Bridge, his hands clasped behind his back in a posture of deceptive stillness. While his lilac eyes tracked the tactical displays, his intuition was tuned to the doors. The moment the Commodore emerged, Kuzos felt the shift in the air - a jagged, dissonant energy that radiated from Targaryen like a failing power cell.

"The Talu fleet is holding at the gravity well, Commodore," Kuzos reported, his voice a calm, melodic anchor amidst the chaos. He didn't turn fully, sensing Wilkan’s fragile grip on the Science Station. Instead, with a subtle flick of his fingers, he signaled the ops officer to dim the primary displays by 20%. It was a quiet gesture of protection, masking the Commodore’s sensory distress under the guise of tactical efficiency.

"The Ministry of Health broadcast is looping on all emergency channels," Kuzos continued, his lilac gaze remaining fixed forward to afford Wilkan the dignity of his struggle. "The Prime Minister’s vitriol is escalating. He has formally requested Dominion assistance, citing 'Federation biological aggression.' We are being painted as the architects of their extinction."

Wilkan tightened his grip on the Science Station, the cold metal biting into his palm. The 20% drop in light was a mercy he didn't acknowledge, but it allowed him to finally lift his head. To his scorched retinas, Kuzos was a shimmering, violet-hued pillar of stability against a backdrop of bleeding red tactical icons.

"Standby for evasive maneuvers. If those interceptors lock on, I want us out of their arc before they can fire. We aren't here to trade blows with a dying people," the Commodore directed as he made his way over to his chair, his voice regaining its steel. "Get the Senior Staff up here. We're going to need them."

At the engineering Station, Ensign Mira Yumerieva watched with concern for the Commodore. He wasn't acting like he was before, and with Kuzos lowering the display output, which she didn't mind, meant that the Commodore was more sensitive than normal. She knew he was an unusual triple mixed race. Could that be having an effect? She returned her attention to the Engineering station. She decided on a course of action, hoping it would help with whatever was stressing the Commodore. "Commander Kuzos, Engineering, Power Efficiency at 99.2 percent, power output at 118 percent, Power available for whatever maneuvers and needs necessary. Ops can confirm."

Urvasi had been dreaming of the exercising the tree road with Dylan to help him with his agility and dexterity. She was really hoping to get him to her homeworld to show him of her birthplace when a rancorous alarm penetrated her sleep state. She sat up quickly, gaining her bearings, and then saw the call for senior staff to the bridge. She leapt out of bed, shed her chemise, and then dressed, no time for any cleaning. She did pass by the fresher to relieve herself and rinse with her herbal mouthwash, then headed to the bridge.

Years of Terran discipline and life on the run from the Imperial Starfleet had prepared Sora for situations like these. As soon as the call came in, she was out of her bed. She had long developed the habit of going to bed half-dressed, so all she needed to do was slip on her skirt and jacket, put on her glasses and boots, and she was ready to go. She was about to grab her weapons when she realised that they were probably not needed, so she got herself a large, extra-strong coffee from the replicator, and headed for the bridge.

Amber was having a rough night, the what if’s hanging around in her dreams rapidly becoming nightmares. As she’d promised the Commodore she’d tried a brief period of being without her senses, with the aid of a neural inhibitor, but she hadn’t lasted long alone in the quiet with none of the usual plethora of voices in the back of her mind. She’d given up after a few minutes, but she would keep trying in case her future held the worst in-store for her. She had managed some sleep, but had woken with a mild headache when the alarm triggered. Getting up she quickly dressed, washed, and brushed her hair then headed for the bridge.

Herbert Barr exited the turbo lift nearest the conn, doing up his uniform jacket and yawning as he marched towards the security console. He gave the night watch officer a brief nod and smile as he relieved him. He began logging into the console, which rearranged the controls to Barr's custom view along with slightly dimming. Barr never liked his console being so bright.

5.2 minutes after the Call to Action, Urvasi exited the turbolift onto the bridge. She called out as she headed to the Helm, "Bridge, Chief Flight Control Officer reporting for duty." She headed to the Helm, received the status from the Andorian Ensign in the seat, then changed positions with him. She called out, "Bridge, Helm, Lt. Elandorn at the helm. Awaiting orders."

"Morning, what's the trouble?", Sora called out as she stepped onto the bridge, heading directly for her station. She noticed the Commodore looking rather distressed and noted the dimmed lights - which, while certainly making things more comfortable for her, was strange to see on a Federation bridge in a crisis situation. Still, that would surely be explained, she decided, and headed for her station, shooing away the Ensign that had monitored it during the night. "Ops ready," she reported, "all systems nominal."

Amber was next to arrive offering a polite smile to all present as she made her way across to a seat.

Close behind the Chief Counsellor, was the Chief Medical Officer. She had been working an extended shift as the plight of the Talu had been discussed with her and there was an urgent need for research and tests to get a catch up going on the medical problems these peoples were enduring. Before sitting down at the CMO's Console, Rio acknowledged everyone on the Bridge, starting with the Commodore who hardly seemed to focus on her in his usual manner when anyone entered the room. She dismissed this as probably being due to the stress of the current Red-Alert and situation. She would look back on this later with some considerable self-blame for not having enquired or investigated further at the time but for now she concentrated on signing into her console and reading her latest messages hoping these might update her on what was going on.

The bridge continued to wake with the arrival of the Senior Staff and the developing situation that awaited them by the time Commander zh'Roothi arrived. She was pleased to see the summons had been answered so quickly and made a pact to herself to improve her own attendance time. The dimmed lighting felt duller than normal for nightwatch she noted recalling how it would suit Sora, and as she drew closer to the Command centre with her gaze falling upon Wilkam with mild concern had been made at his request.

Deck 13, Chief Engineer’s Office

“Click!”

In the relative silence of her office the, nearly inaudible, sound of Ash’s engineering bag opening may as well have been a gunshot to the sensitive ears of the Tuansee engineering officer where she lay on her bed in the sleeping quarters next door. She smiled while her doppelganger squeezed through the small opening that joined regular space with her, carefully created domain, hidden somewhere in sub-space. That was the secret of her engineering bag, or, their engineering bag, to be more to the point. There was, of course, more than one engineering bag for one, or the other, to squirm her way out of and the two bags that either would admit existed, if pressed by the right individual, were separated by thousands of light years of regular space; one on Enterprise-H, currently in the Gamma Quadrant, and the other, somewhere, in the Sol System.

“Thank you for helping me out of the bag.” Ash heard herself say from the other room, a little note of sarcasm in her voice. “We need to work on engineering a larger aperture.” The other Ash added, as she entered the sleeping quarters and plopped down on the bed next to her ‘twin’ who silently nodded in agreement. “One more joy brought to us by the onset of puberty.” She noted, quietly. “Just enough bust, butt and hips to make for a tight fit through the aperture…” She continued to an answering nod from her mirror image. “And…attract the unfortunate attention of some very creepy people.” The other finished, quietly, with a sigh, as she peeled off her gloves, while the other her did the same.

Under casual inspection neither looked like they had been wearing gloves at all, the color and texture of them, perfectly matching the fine, felt-like, fur on their hands. They wore the gloves for a number of reasons, the chief of which was to avoid, accidental, skin-on-skin, contact with others that might result in any number of, unfortunate, effects depending upon the circumstances.

“Time to catch up.” The pair stated, in unison, as they joined hands and began the process of sharing acquired memories since their last, direct, link-up. They were, casually, aware of what the other had experienced but not to a degree that they could pass for one another if specifics were needed. Two, very orderly, minds merged and passed information, back and forth, as neatly and accurately as the most sophisticated of information systems in existence, the exchange taking mere moments, the experience very calming and relaxing for them both.

Physical, mental and emotional connections were an imperative for Tuansee and, while they shared a mental connection with each other and were attuned to the shared continuity of their people, physical proximity was still crucial for long term mental health. Both were far happier and healthier, mentally, since deciding to no longer avoid one another nearly a decade earlier.

“We don’t have long before shit hits the fan, one stated to the other.” Who nodded, in agreement.
“I see it.” She replied, eyes still closed. “You want to sit in for this crisis?” She asked, opening her eyes to peer at the overhead for a second or two before turning her head to look at her doppelganger who had done the same in an eerie, mirror-like, fashion.

“You can see the possibilities as clearly as I can so, no. But, thank you for asking anyway.” Her mirror image responded with a little bit of a grin. “Red alert, in ten seconds.” She added as she rolled off the bed while her other half did the same.

“See you soon.” They both said as one dove, head first, into the small opening of the, black doctors bag and squirmed her way through the aperture as the other made sure her uniform wasn’t in a sorry state while she waited for the Red Alert to sound as pretense for heading to the bridge. The Engineer was keenly aware that it made others nervous if she answered questions, before they were asked, or reacted to things before they happened. There was a fine edge to be walked and Ash, sincerely, tried to walk it these days.

There were times where the pair might spend hours, or even, days on board Enterprise together, one or the other, carefully, masked from the ships sensors and the, ever present, AI presence of Galatea though, both suspected that Galatea was aware of their arrangement and, for reasons of her own, the AI had not approached them at an opportune moment or, to their knowledge, apprised the Captain of their, Parent Trap-like, hi-jinks.

Ash looked into her engineering bag and finger waved to her mirror image before closing the bag and flattened her ears as the Red Alert kicked off and waited five seconds before ordering visual only for the alarm, the noise muted to leave only the flashing red light.

A few minutes later, the diminutive felinoid padded onto the bridge and headed straight for her engineering station, though, her pace slowed to nearly a stop as she passed the Commodore, her eyes and ears focused intently on the man as she passed, and then continued to her intended destination, without a word.

"You are relieved, Ensign Yumerieva." The Tuansee stated, quietly.

Mira was so happy to see Ash relieve her. "I stand relieved, Commander Randall." She whispered, "Commander, did you want me to stay, or go ahead and get to Engineering?"

"Stick around. Man the auxiliary station, please." The Chief Engineer instructed, quietly, while she logged into the main engineering station, accessed Coaxial Warp control and prepared for spin up on the Captains orders and, not before, to keep walking that fine line.

Mira nodded in respect for Ash as she went over to the Auxiliary Station. She sat down, logged in, then began feeding data to the main engineering station for engineering efficiency and control console through feeds for aux stations.

The ambient light of the Bridge, though dimmed by Kuzos’s quick thinking, still felt like a series of rhythmic physical blows against Wilkan's temples. He sat in the Captain's Chair, his hands gripping the armrests so tightly the leather creaked. He didn't lean back; he couldn't. The moment he lost the tension in his spine, he feared the vertigo would claim him entirely.

He had felt the presence of his senior staff as they filtered in; the unique, synchronized sounds of their footsteps and the familiar hum of their individual energies was reassuring. He didn't need to see them to know they were there. He recognized the sharp, efficient rustle of Sora’s arrival and the soft, clinical padding of Rio’s boots. The scent of Sora’s over-strong coffee cut through the ozone, a grounding, terrestrial smell that briefly anchored his wandering focus. Beneath the physical pain, a cold, tactical fury was beginning to crystallize. The Talu’s accusation of biological aggression wasn't just a diplomatic hurdle; it was a personal affront to the uniform he wore.

As the light from the primary viewer continued to pulse against his retinas like a strobe, he turned his head slightly toward the Operations station. "Commander Bernadotte," he said, the words felt heavy in his mouth. "Polarize the viewscreen to eighty percent. Bring the bridge lighting down another five. If we’re going to be fighting in a snowstorm, I want the contrast adjusted for maximum target acquisition."

"More than happy to, you know how I feel about the brightness in here," Sora replied with a smile as her fingers danced over her console. As the light dimmed and the viewscreen's contrast increased, she leaned back in her chair and, for the first time on a bridge since crossing universes, took off her glasses. "No need for these for the moment, now that the lighting is tolerable for once," she quipped with a chuckle as she put her glasses in a pocket in her uniform and took a big gulp of her coffee.

The Commodore turned his head back toward the center, squinting as he sought out the shimmering violet outline of his Science Officer. "Commander Datari," he continued, his voice dropping into a low, focused rasp. "Begin pre-approach scans of the planet. I want a full-spectrum bio-molecular sweep of the capital’s ventilation hubs. If there’s a hitchhiker down there, I want its DNA sequenced before we hit the atmosphere. Cross-reference all findings with the away team’s medical logs and share any tactical items immediately with Lieutenant Barr. We need to know if we're looking at a natural mutation or something... more intentional."

Aidan had slipped onto the bridge mere minutes after the call for senior staff to report in. He had noticed the captain's stiff composure but had chosen not to comment or offer assistance. When the man shifted to look his way, the Trill noticed the careful and deliberate movement of someone who might fear he'd fall over if he moved any faster.

"Beginning scans," he reported, unable to keep a note of excitement out of his voice. This was a snow planet, no doubt the air would be clean and crisp just as he was used to when growing up. He loved sub zero temperatures. "Establishing connection with medical and tactical consoles." And of course a connection to Astrometrics to speed things up. "If this is intentional, I'm not certain I can tell the difference without taking a closer look...."

He felt the shift at the Engineering station as the Chief Engineer arrived. He didn't look at her, but he felt the weight of her gaze as she passed. He remained motionless, a frozen figure in his chair, waiting for the data to catch up to his intuition.

"Urvasi," he called out to the helm, "keep us at the edge of the Talu’s weapon's range for now. I want to see how those interceptors react before we commit to the descent. Ash, I will not commit this ship to combat with a people who are physically at risk. Have the Coaxial Drive spooled in case I order us away in a hurry."

Urvasi called out, "On it, Captain." She called up information from sciences about the Talu's weapon's range and began moving the Enterprise to be at that edge of that range.

"Aye sir. Initiating spool up of Coaxial Drive." The Chief engineer responded, quickly and quietly.

Wilkan felt the Bridge settling into a rhythmic, high-alert hum. The polarization of the viewscreen was a physical relief, the 80% tint turning the blinding Talu glare into a manageable, charcoal-grey expanse. He took a shallow breath, his fingers finally loosening their death-grip on the armrests, though the ache behind his eyes remained a persistent, throbbing passenger.

He felt the heavy weight of Rio Kholin’s presence at the Science II station. He didn't have to look at her to know she was analyzing him with clinical precision. Every heartbeat, every minute dilation of his pupils was likely being logged as evidence for a medical suspension he couldn't afford. To acknowledge her was to invite the lecture; instead, he shifted his focus toward the empathetic anchor to his left.

If Rio had known that her presence was making the Commodore so unhappy she would have been horrified but luckily her concern for his apparent health problem was her only awareness at the time. She of course knew that apart from his Seniors (and as was seen lately, sometimes even some of those didn't necessarily get to do it) she was the only one who was able to suspend him from duty but she was also aware that taking down a Starship Commanding Officer was mutiny - unless it was the only possible and safe course of action in a dire emergency situation - she was never going to challenge him over a headache, or time sickness or being off-colour. If he could function, he was the CO, period. If she'd known how threatened he was by her power to 'suspend' him, she would have instantly reassured him that he'd have to rip apart her fierce loyalty and immense respect for him, if he were to ever even try to make that happen. Her ignorance of his feeling that her presence was a 'heavy weight' - let alone a hostile one - was a blessing as it would have hurt her to know that was how he saw her.

"Counselor," Wilkan said, his voice quiet but steady, cutting through the low murmur of the Bridge stations. "What are your thoughts on the situation with the Talu? Do you think there's a diplomatic way out of this, or has the 'Clear-Snow' already blinded them to anything but an ultimatum?"

He finally leaned back, a single, sharp yawn escaping him - not out of boredom, but as a reflex of an exhausted nervous system trying to pull in more oxygen. He kept his gaze fixed on the grey-tinted world on the screen, waiting for Amber to weigh in on the collective psyche of a civilization currently preparing to fire on their only hope for a cure.

“Right now Sir, I’d say they’re in a panic.” Amber responded. “They‘ve issued an ultimatum because they don’t know what else to do to get our complete attention. We need to find a way to help them, to get a foot in the door so-to-speak.”

Urvasi called out, "Bridge, Helm, Enterprise at requested distance and is pacing for station keeping."

The Andorian XO had remained silent as Targaryen continued to interact with the crew, accessing the Commanding Officer as he worked to hide his discomfort. He'd been too proud to wear the protective suit for the negations she knew, and she'd had warned him of the risks it presented. "Commodore," she said lowly leaning towards him keeping their conversation at muted as possible: "Should I wave Rio over?"

Wilkan felt the cool, antenna-driven intuition of his Executive Officer pressing against his left flank. Her voice was a low, friction-filled rasp that cut through his focus more effectively than the bridge alarms. His jaw tightened, the muscles ticking. He didn't look at her; he couldn't afford to let her see the erratic pulse in his temple. Instead, he channelled his frustration into a redirection.

"Thank you, Helm," he called out to Urvasi, his voice projecting across the deck to drown out the XO's proximity. He turned back to Zhora, his eyes narrowing as he forced a sharp, defensive edge into his tone. "I'm fine, Exec."

He rose, the deck shifting beneath him like a ship in a gale. He didn't stumble. He refused to. Tugging his tunic straight, he paced toward the viewer, his boots finding the exact center of the bridge by the mere sound of the consoles.

"Open a channel to the Talu," he commanded, his silhouette a dark, unyielding shape against the polarized grey of the screen. "I want to speak with their Prime Minister. Now."

Sora glanced at the Commodore, both his determination and his pain clear to see, even though he tried his hardest to hide it. She knew better than to ask what was going on with him behind the scenes, yet she knew that a distracted commander could be more trouble than help. On her console, she quickly tapped a message to Zhora. "CO seems unstable. Will back you up if you need to take over."

Then, her fingers danced across the console to access the ship's communications array. "Hailing now. Doesn't look like they're picking the phone up, though."

"Well then," the Commodore looked around the Bridge, "let's find a way to make them answer the phone. Suggestions?"

"They might pick up the phone for Lieutenant Commander Kuzos." Ash suggested, quietly, with a glance the direction of Kuzos and then to the Commodore.

"How flattering, Commander Randall," Kuzos remarked, his voice a smooth, melodic anchor. "Though I suspect the Talu aren't ignoring us because they dislike the Federation's tone. They've simply already decided on the ending to this story. They aren't looking for a conversation; they're looking for a sacrificial lamb."

He leaned forward toward the workstation with a fluid, predatory grace. "If you want them to pick up the phone, stop knocking on the front door. To a species that lives by resonance, our subspace hails are just irritating noise." He tapped a sequence into his console with deceptive speed. "I suggest we pulse the Navigational Deflector. We don't send words; we send a subsonic 'thrum' that mimics the seismic shift of their own glacial shelves. Once they feel us in their bones, they can no longer pretend the room is empty."

The Vorta paused, the sharp wit in his eyes glinting. "Shall I prime the Deflector, Commodore? Or would you prefer to keep shouting into the wind?"

Wilkan turned toward the Vorta, his boots anchored to the deck as if he were bracing against a gravity shear. He crossed his arms, the physical barrier a silent rejection of the Vorta’s easy pragmatism.

"We’re here to offer a cure, Commander, not to remind them of the size of our Deflector Dish," Wilkan rasped, the steel returning to his voice. "One misplaced frequency and we become the architects of a natural disaster to match their biological one. I asked for a channel, not a demolition crew, and I’m sure as Hell not interested in the version of a 'handshake' that ends with a foot on their neck because we miscalculated."

Kuzos’s smile didn't falter, but it tightened, his lilac eyes narrowing into a cold, professional focus. "Precision is my specialty, Commodore, and I'm wounded you’d think I’m suggesting we shatter a continental shelf," Kuzos replied. "I propose a low-frequency harmonic tap. It wouldn't trigger an avalanche, but it would make every receiver on the planet hum with a Federation dial tone."

He glanced at the viewscreen, then back to Wilkan. "Consider that I may have more... familiarity with the Talu. The Prime Minister isn’t 'sleeping'; he’s stalling. If we wait, we aren't being polite - we’re being complicit. I can calibrate the pulse to a heartbeat if Commander Datari provides the foundation density."

The Vorta paused, the sharp wit in his gaze glinting. "Unless you prefer to wait for the Jem'Hadar to provide their own wake-up call?"

"Contingent upon Commander Datari's data," Wilkan said, his voice a low, focused rasp. He turned back toward Kuzos, keeping his spine rigid in a silent refusal to let the Vorta see him sway. "If the density holds, Commander Ash will work with you to calibrate the pulse. We’ll offer our greeting, but we’ll do it without bringing the roof down on their heads. If so much as a single glacier shivers from our pulse, I want you to cut the feed. Unless there are any other suggestions?"

Beyond them the Zhora's gaze shifted between them after acknowledging Sora's private message. Until the Commodore demonstrated evidence of being compromised either of sound mind or by medical intervention the Andorian remained an observer. Her eyes lingered on Kuzos as he apparently enjoyed testing Wilkan's resolve in his weakened state.

“Perhaps a little reverse psychology Sir?” Amber suggested as she looked towards Wilkan. “They’re afraid, they can ignore us as much as they like, but in truth they want a cure. Maybe we should just say our goodbyes and take our offer of a cure with us? It may just get their attention a little better.”

Sora nodded. "I think Amber's idea is much more suitable. I have a feeling they wouldn't take particularly kindly to us almost causing an earthquake. What, first we try to wipe them out with a bioweapon, and then to add to their suffering we blow up their planet? Put yourselves in their shoes. Would you react positively to that?"

"Scans show that there is something virulent spreading across the planet," Aidan spoke up, "but the scanners can't define what it is or where it came from." He paused, looking back and forth between several people. "What if we tried actually talking to them?" He offered, "and I mean actually, not using the universal translator? Maybe we should take a shuttle down and meet with them, and offer our help. We could make it clear we don't have any demands in exchange for our offer?"

Kuzos’s smile remained fixed, a masterpiece of polite condescension as he listened to the chorus of altruism. He tilted his head toward the Senior Staff, his lilac eyes glimmering with practiced patience.

"A shuttle, Commander Datari? They would vaporize you before your landing struts cleared the atmosphere," Kuzos remarked, his voice a smooth, melodic anchor. He turned toward Amber and Sora, the wit in his expression sharpening. "And while ‘reverse psychology’ is a charming sentiment, silence won't suggest we’ve left; it will suggest we’ve succeeded. If we stop knocking, they will simply turn to the Founders for a more decisive cure."

"I'm cautious about knocking with a sledgehammer, Commander, because that’s exactly what your 'tap' is," Wilkan rasped. He shifted his weight, ensuring Kuzos remained in his line of sight despite the silver fog in his vision. "If we miscalculate and crack a shelf, we aren't just architects of a disaster; we’re giving the Dominion a standing invitation to intervene. I'm not interested in seeing how the Federation fares in that scenario."

The Commodore looked at the viewscreen, a jagged pulse of pain causing him to momentarily wince. He gripped the armrest until the leather groaned, forcing the vertigo back. He forced himself back, "We take the middle path. Bernadotte," he bypassed Kuzos, "Prepare a wide-band subspace channel, every frequency including the emergency bands. We won't vibrate their bones, but we will drown out their excuses, but make it impossible for them to claim they didn't hear us."

Kuzos remained perfectly still, his lilac eyes fixed on the Commodore with a clinical, almost predatory intensity. He didn't wait for Sora to acknowledge the order; he simply stepped into the vacuum of the conversation, his voice dropping into a smooth, melodic register that felt far too intimate for the Bridge. "The channels are ready, Commodore. Every frequency from the bedrock to the ionosphere can be saturated with our presence," Kuzos remarked, his tone carrying a sharp, rhythmic edge. He took a single, deliberate step forward, his gaze never wavering from Wilkan’s face. "But the Talu aren't the only ones suffering from a lack of vision, are they? The 'Clear-Snow' has irritated your retinas and you’re choosing a 'middle path' because you’re afraid to commit to a decisive action while your own biology is betraying you." He gestured vaguely toward the medical station where Rio was watching. "You are navigating by memory and instinct, Sir, but instinct won't stop a Talu interceptor's lock. If you cannot look the Prime Minister in the eye because the light of your own Bridge is a physical assault, then perhaps you should let someone whose vision remains... unclouded... handle the knocking."

Zhora stood promptly at Kuzos accusation and moved alongside the Commodore ready to interrupt if required.

"Your concern is noted, Commander, though 'touching' might be an overstatement," the Commodore rasped, his voice cutting through the intimate silence Kuzos had created. He didn't blink, even as the violet shimmer of the Vorta’s outline seemed to vibrate. "Vision and command are not mutually exclusive; if they were, half the legendary captains in Starfleet’s history would have been sidelined. My eyes may be irritated, but my focus on this mission remains absolute."

He felt the weight of the room shifting and he could feel the silent gazes of many. He sighed, a low, weary sound that pulled in a sharp breath of the coffee-tainted air. "If it will satisfy the Bridge’s sudden interest in my health, I will allow Doctor Kholin a brief assessment once the channel is established and we've made contact, but make no mistake: we aren't retreating, and we aren't shaking the planet. We are doing this my way." He left no quarter in his words, the resolve of his voice unwavering. If the Enterprise was responsible they damn well were going to fix it.

Aidan shook his head in dismay. "If they were ignoring us before there's no guarantee they'll answer if we transmit on any known frequency," he commented, "and I doubt they'd vaporise a shuttle, their weapons seem rather archaic compared to ours. We need to get back down there and face them, anything else just feels like cowardice."

“With all due respect Commander” Amber looked towards Aidan. “We also have to consider whether or not whatever is ravaging that planet and the Talu could infect us. We don’t need to be bringing anything contagious back aboard ship, as I’m sure the Doctor will tell you.” She gave Rio a smile.

Rio returned the smile and nodded agreement silently.

“As for silence…” Amber looked towards Kuzos. “I wasn’t suggesting radio silence just a hint that we’re here to help, but if they want to refuse it and lose more lives while they wait for someone else to offer help, then that’s up to them. If I was in their position I’d want help now.”

At the Aux station, Mira was listening in, but did not have anything to suggest. She had never encountered this race before, and as for the contagion, well, she was affected the same way by contagions as Terrans. She was perhaps more resistant to 'unhealthy food' and poisons, but what could kill a terran could kill her. So, she stayed quiet, and tried to think ahead about any data that Ash might be needing and get that to her.

Sora was glancing at the Commodore with concern. His determination was boiling over into anger, and an angry commander was rarely a good thing to have. "Hailing on all frequencies, but still no reply," she reported as she checked over her console, when a notification flashed up. "Scratch that, they sent a message telling us to stop trying to overload their communications grid. Apparently they think we want to stop them from calling for help, rather than offer help ourselves."

She leaned back and sighed. "I don't think there's much else we can do, at this point. We can't help them if they just refuse to talk to us. And if we continue to try to force the issue, it'll just make things worse."

“Agreed” Amber nodded.

"Hence my suggestion to go down there. To avoid exposure, we could wear hazmat suits and maybe limit the amount of team members? I'm willing to try and talk to them...I've familiarised myself with their language and I'm capable of withstanding the cold for quite some time." Aidan was definitely excited about such a prospect and wasn't happy his suggestion was initially shot down.

“If we do send people down I’d like to volunteer” Amber offered. “My Vulcan half won’t appreciate the cold, but my Betazoid half will make up for it, plus I have the Vulcan adaptation that allows me to function better in brighter light than Humans. That’s if I can be of any use of course.” She added with a smile.

"I'd be completely useless down there," Sora remarked with a shrug. "I still think it's risky, since there's always the chance they'll blow you out of the sky without as much as a hello. But right now it does seem like it's our only option to re-establish communications."

The Enterprise's Commander looked around the Bridge, "If we're already the cause of their nightmare in their eyes, then they need to see the face of the man they're accusing," Wilkan decided, his answer final. "I won't hide behind a subspace wall while a civilization burns. We'll bypass the interceptors entirely and transport directly to the medical hub, that way we don't have to worry about the safety of a shuttle crew and our equipment while trying to solve the mystery." He looked at Commander zh'Roothi, "I'd never order someone to do something I wasn't willing to do myself, so I'll lead an away team consisting of myself, Doctor Kholin, Commander Datari, Counselor Laurell, and Mister Barr. Commander zh'Roothi will remain here in command of Enterprise until I return, with Kuzos serving as her Acting XO from Tactical."

The Andorian felt her eyes narrow and jaw clench at the revelation that the Commodore was prepared to put himself at risk, and promote Kuzos to acting XO. "Sir, I must object," she began before being cut off.

"Your objection is noted," Wilkan looked at his First Officer, "but Captain's prerogative. This one's mine. If the Talu decide to make good on their threats, I want us able to vanish in a heartbeat," the Commodore continued. "Outfit each team member with a Combadge upgraded with Emergency Transport Unit hardware. That way, if things get hairy, we can get back up here in a hurry."

The Chief Operations Officer looked up from her console. "I will make sure to keep constant transporter lock on all of you, we will be able to monitor the situation somewhat from the bridge."

Urvasi had an opening to speak up, "Commodore Targaryen, Lieutenant Elandorn, I volunteer to fly the shuttle as well as being a furred race, maybe being there might help as the Talu are a furred race as well?" She left off she could withstand the cold for a while as well as her body's immune system was designed to take out nasty parasites and contagions on her races birth world. Doc Rhio would already know that from her medical charts.

Once again, the CMO nodded a silent acknowledgement of those medical facts but she didn't add any comment to the discussion at this point.

Wilkan listened to the proposal from the Flight Controller. He appreciated the offer of support, but the Commodore would not put any more at risk than he had to. "I appreciate the offer, Lieutenant, but if the Talu make a move on the Enterprise, I need our best hands on the thrusters. The ship’s safety is the priority, and I want that Coaxial Drive spooled and ready for an immediate jump."

Urvasi answered with a nod, "Understood, Sir. She will be in good hands."

"Ash," Wilkan continued, "please prepare five life-support belts for field testing." An alternative to the EVA suit, the life-support belt projected a form-fitting atmospheric containment field that allowed for total mobility and fine motor control. The only problem was that their limited power cells made the units vulnerable to thermal strain or prolonged environmental stress. With the Talu environment it was a perfect place for a field test, but the risk of failure was great.

"Aye, sir." The Chief Engineer responded, having turned to look at the Commodore when he issued his order. "As requested, by the Engineering Corps, I have NOT tweaked, modified, or in any way, optimized the design preferred by that office." Ash noted, as a disclaimer. "Under the atmospheric conditions, planet side, you will have, at most, 2 hours before the life support field collapses using its standard power source. With that in mind, I have NOT designed an adapter to allow the power cell from a Type V phaser rifle to extend the time before the life support field collapses NOR have I fitted such an adapter to the Life Support Belts so kindly provided for testing." Ash added, quickly. "Just to be clear, sir." She finished.

Urvasi heard the Commodore ask for five life-support belts. She thought for a second, then reached down to hit the release crystal of her L'Tandrey designed Life Support Belt. She always had it with her as when flying fighters and shuttles as there never was a 'her shape EVA suit' at the ready. Unfurled from around her waist, she put it over the console between Sora and her. Now she called out, "Commodore Targaryen, Lieutenant Elandorn, would someone on your away team like to use mine? It is of L'Tandrey Manufacture, Crystech, and lasts 12 hours. Then, when not in use, recharges from ambient energy." She left off that it could also recharge with psi energy transfer, but the only other person she knew could do that was Ash.

"Twelve hours," Wilkan repeated quietly, his gaze turning toward Urvasi, his expression unreadable behind his squint caused by the Bridge’s glare. He looked at the L'Tandrey belt resting on the console, thinking about how the utility of such a device on a Class P world was undeniable, especially given the clock Ash had just laid out for the experimental Starfleet models. He looked at Aidan, then at the rest of the selected team.

"I appreciate the gesture, Lieutenant, but I’ll decline for myself," Wilkan decided, his voice gaining that familiar tone of finality. "As I said, I won't ask my crew to use equipment I’m not willing to test alongside them; however..." He gestured toward Aidan, "Commander Datari, you’ll be doing the heavy lifting with the Talu language and technical scans. Your focus needs to be on their people, not your power cell's countdown. Take the Lieutenant's belt."

Aidan nodded, handed his station over to a relief officer and stepped down to Urvasi. He looked at the alien device but didn't touch it. "How does it operate?" He asked.

Urvasi turned to Aidan, handing him the belt while giving instructions. "The clasp of the belt will molecular seal once the two front halves are slid over it each other. The belt will take a scan of your body to understand your life properties. Next, to activate it, just press the crystal in the center of the clasp for one second. The psi force field will vary itself according to the outside conditions to keep you at optimal conditions. It will also protect against weapon shots hitting it, however, those shots, depending upon force, may not remove any time up to removing 30 minutes of time. To deactivate it, double tap the crystal, then press it right after for one second. To remove it, you must press and hold the crystal while thinking, 'release' and the clasp will unseal after three seconds. Oh yeah, when you want to know how much time is remaining, think 'Protection Time Left' and the time will appear before your eyes momentarily. Any questions?"

The Trill considered her words. "Psi force field?" He queried curiously, "this device, how safe is it to use by species other than yours?"

A collective weight could be seen across Urvasi's shoulders and expression. When dealing with crystech in the Federation, this question was always at the fore. She yiffered in light humor as she answered, "Very safe. The Belt is designed for any species, psionics or not. The field is generated by the belt, not the user, and reacts faster to changes than lower band energy fields." Her face scrunched as she thought, then she brightened. "Think of it as a higher order multi-phasic force field in the energy bands, one that molds itself to the user rather than being a lower energy field that is preprogrammed by a computer chip." She tilted her head, "Does that help?"

"Not really," the Trill answered honestly, "but I'll figure it out. Thank you."

Wilkan’s eyes tracked to Ash. He’d spent enough time with Ash to recognize the words of her apology. In Starfleet, "following orders to the letter" while listing exactly what you didn't do was a universal code for: I did exactly that, and it's already working. Wilkan knew that Ash hadn't just modified the belts; she’d likely turned them into miniature power plants, but officially, her hands were clean. "I appreciate your... strict adherence to protocol, Commander Randall," Wilkan said, his voice dry but carrying a heavy layer of subtext. "It’s comforting to know we’re going down with equipment that is exactly as the Engineering Corps intended. I’ll be sure to mention your 'lack of initiative' in the mission debrief."

"Yes Sir." Ash responded, quietly. "I will have the, as is, Life-Support Belts waiting for you in Transporter Room One," she added and glanced to Urvasi, the set of her ears the equivalent of, two-thumbs-up, and then turned back to her station to arrange the delivery of the life-support belts as requested. Ash had been dead serious about having made NO changes to the Life-support belts as directed, by the engineering Corps. However, the order was mum on the subject of replicating them and radically improving the design of the replicated belts without changing their appearance. "Remember, two hours. That's it. I'd like to be able to say you have 8 or 10 hours, but I can NOT do so." She stated, looking back over her shoulder.

"You heard the Commander," He looked at his away team as he said it, "We have two hours to convince a dying, hostile world that we aren’t the ones holding the knife. No pressure." Wilkan looked at Zhora, "Keep things together until I get back. Let’s move."

"We'll be fine," she replied. "Be careful down there."

Sora chuckled at the Chief Engineer's ingenuity, before focusing on her console again. "All systems nominal," she reported. "Currently no comm chatter out of the ordinary, other than the Talu wondering why we're still here, and reports on the infection beginning to spread. It's not looking good down there," she added, turning towards the away team. "Stay safe down there."

Rio handed over her console to an Ensign in a teal trimmed uniform, freshly on deck and made her way alongside the rest of the Away Team to get started on preparations to transport.

Exiting the Bridge, Targaryen hoped that his heading to the surface wasn't a mistake almost as much as he hoped that the Enterprise wasn't the one at fault.

RSS Feed