Army of the Underappreciated

Posted on Sun Mar 29th, 2026 @ 11:24pm by Enterprise Officer NPC & Commander Ash Randall & Commander Zhora zh'Roothi & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Urvasi Elandorn

3,951 words; about a 20 minute read

Mission: 8. Epidemic
Location: Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-08-27, 01:45

The Bridge was too dark. For Lieutenant (J.G.) Anzai Sulu, the dimness wasn’t just a tactical adjustment; it felt like a blurring of the lines she relied on to stay upright. At the Science station, her hands moved with a precise, almost frantic adherence to the sensor-calibration checklist. Step 4, Subsection B. No deviations. She could feel the weight of the name "Sulu" pressing against the small of her back like a physical burden. Behind her lay a lineage of legends, captains and helmsmen who had defined the frontier. Ahead of her was a charcoal-grey viewscreen and a Commodore who walked into plague wards. Regulation 402, Section 3, she thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the molecular resolution of the Talu scans. Commanding Officers shall prioritize personal safety to ensure continuity of command. Wilkan was ignoring it. Again. Just like he’d ignored the lighting standards.

"Scans are... fluctuating," Anzai reported, her voice pitched high with a practiced, formal neutrality. She didn't look back at the Command well. "The Talu atmosphere’s thermal interference is exceeding standard parameters by 12 percent. According to the Starfleet Science Manual, we should recalibrate the lateral sensors every ten minutes to avoid data ghosting."

"Then by all means, Lieutenant, follow the manual," Kuzos’s voice slithered across the deck. The Vorta moved into her peripheral vision, his lilac eyes reflecting the pale blue glow of her console. "Though I’ve always found that ghosts are often more informative than the data itself. Especially when they’re screaming."

Anzai swallowed hard, her Rutian heritage flaring in the slight, silvery tint of her skin under the bridge lights. "Data ghosting is a technical error, Commander, not a metaphor. My duty is to provide the Acting XO with accurate readings, not 'informed' specters."

Kuzos tilted his head, a thin, predatory smile touching his lips. "So by-the-book. It’s a fascinating defense mechanism. Tell me, Sulu, does the manual tell you what to do when your Commodore’s heartbeat begins to sync with the tectonic resonance of a dying planet? Because my 'ghosts' suggest he’s doing more than just breathing their air."

Swivelling the central seat at the heart of the bridge Commander zh'Roothi fixed Kuzos with a piercing glare in warning for him to stop adding to the pressure of the situation and undermining the crew.

Anzai’s fingers skipped a key. She quickly corrected it, her heart hammering against her ribs. She felt out of her depth, a cadet playing at being a pioneer, but she tightened her grip on the console. "I am monitoring his vitals in accordance with Medical Protocol 12-Alpha," she stated, her voice regaining its brittle steel. "Anything else is... outside my current assignment."

"I'm going to adjust the sensors," Sora said with a shrug. "But constantly recalibrating them is not really an option. We might miss something." She fiddled with the parameters for a moment. "There, that should get the interference down to around six percent. Don't think we'll get much better results without completely reconfiguring the sensor array. And that takes more time than we have." She turned to Kuzos. "Besides, the Commander is right. It is often quite telling what we can't see, rather than what we do."

"Acknowledged, Commander," Anzai said, her voice tight as she stared at the sensor readout. She felt a prickle of heat behind her neck. It wasn't just the Vorta’s unsettling presence anymore; it was the way Sora, a seasoned officer who had seen more than Anzai could imagine, casually dismissed the manual in favor of intuition. Recalibrating was a requirement, not a suggestion. If the data wasn't clean, the conclusions were compromised. That was the logic that kept her world from spinning out of control.

Anzai watched as the interference on her screen dropped to six percent, just as Sora had promised. But to Anzai, that remaining six percent wasn't just noise, it was a failure of protocol. Every flicker on her console felt like a personal indictment of her inability to maintain the rigid standards her father, and his father before him, had mastered.

"The Talu interceptors are tightening their pincer," Anzai reported, her voice regaining its brittle, formal edge. She focused on the tactical overlay, where sharp, crimson icons mirrored the Enterprise’s every move. "They are pinging our primary shields with active targeting sensors. Regulation classifies this as a hostile act."

"True." Commander Randall stated, quietly. "We could target all their interceptors and orbital defensive systems, simultaneously, in response if we were to 'go by the book' or, I could mess with them a little bit and make our targeting profile look like a Teddy Bear or a giant Ice Cream cone." The Chief Engineer suggested.

"Considering the Talu's current opinion of us I'll be surprised if they weren't probing us," zh'Roothi responded having returned to the forward position. "Withhold from taking further actions for now. Anything we do here will affect the negations on the surface."

Urvasi called out, "Bridge, Helm, is there any particular position you want me to swing the Enterprise into for better use of sensors? Helm keeps the ship 'forward' to be forward only for appearances sake. I can fly the Enterprise in any orientation you want for show and for sensors."

Sora turned to face Lieutenant Sulu and shook her head. "Lieutenant, over my years serving with two versions of Starfleet, I have found one thing to be a universal truth. There's only so far that you can get when you follow regulations. Like in this instance, like you said, what the Talu is doing is, per regulation, a hostile act. However, by responding to that accordingly, we would more than likely not only endanger the safety of our away team, but potentially trigger a war. Which is the last thing we want." She smiled. "Same goes for recalibrating the sensors. Yes, we have some interference, which is never good to have, but if we were to recalibrate now, we'd be momentarily blind. And it's better to have compromised information than none at all."

She turned back to her console, checking it for any incoming messages or hails, but found none. With a shrug, she turned to the First Officer. "I concur with your strategic assessment at the moment. Let them think we're just holding position and waiting for further instructions, or something like that. We easily have the firepower to take them out, but that would make things a lot worse for our people down there."

"I understand," Anzai replied, her voice still brittle as her jaw tightened. "I am prioritizing continuity of data over purity of calibration." She forced her focus onto the flickering tactical icons. "Commander zh'Roothi, orienting twenty degrees ‘port-up’ would give the ventral sensors a clearer line to the clinic without aligning our Phasers. It’s a non-aggressive posture that maximizes resolution."

Kuzos let out a soft, rhythmic hum. "A compromise. You’re learning to bend the book without breaking the spine, Sulu. Impressive. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

Hearing Anzai's request with the answering reply, Urvasi rolled the Enterprise 20 degrees starboard, bringing the port up and maximizing sensor readings. She called out, "Roll completed."

Anzai didn't look at him. "I’m optimizing parameters, Commander." She squinted at a sudden flare on her console. "Ops, I’m seeing a massive energy surge originating near the clinic."

Kuzos leaned over her shoulder, his lilac eyes narrowing as he studied the erratic waveform. "That isn't a broadcast, Lieutenant," he interjected, his voice dropping into a cold, clinical purr. "And it isn't the resonance. It’s a transporter signature: high energy, localized, and distinctly non-Federation."

"We may have a third party paying a visit." Ash observed. "It seems unlikely that the Talu would feel the need to transport into an area they have complete control of and, if they did transport in, it would likely be directly into the clinic unless it is a sterilization team intent on stopping the contagion by whatever means necessary . The chief engineer added.

"Can we confirm their identity?" zh'Roothi probed to Sora.

The Operations Officer checked her console, and shook her head. "I can tell you it's coming from a ship holding stationary orbit over the planet's equator, but I can't identify the vessel. Doesn't seem to match anything in the database." She turned to the Vorta tactical officer. "Kuzos, you're the expert on the quadrant, who are we looking at?"

"That signature is high-bandwidth, filtered to mimic planetary radiation," Kuzos said, his voice dropping into a register of sharp recognition. "It is a fingerprint etched into my genetic memory," the Vorta straightened, his courtly posture belying a sudden, cold intensity, "It's the Dominion. They've responded to the distress call."

Anzai’s breath hitched, her fingers dancing across the console to isolate the decaying transporter trace. "Transporter cycle complete," she announced, her voice regaining its brittle, professional cadence. "Signatures materialized within the primary ward, less than three meters from the Commodore." She enlarged the sweep, the blue light of the display washing over her silver-tinted skin. "I'm counting four distinct bio-signs. Two match the high-density cellular structure of Jem'Hadar. The third is Vorta... and the fourth is Talu. DNA markers are consistent with Prime Minister Dervimnurk."

The bridge felt colder. Anzai looked at the tactical overlay, where the red pincer of the Talu interceptors seemed to tighten. "They’ve bypassed all orbital protocols, Commander. The Prime Minister isn't just with them; he’s leading them in. It’s a formal delegation."

Kuzos’s eyes remained fixed on the screen. "A savior and a king," he murmured. "Walking hand-in-hand into the cave. My people don't just want to cure the sick, they want to witness the Federation's failure from the front row."

The unwelcome arrival of the Dominion party caused the Acting Captain to sit stiffer in her seat. Already uncomfortable with the Commodore's choice to return to the planet and finding herself questioning Kuzos motivation she could feel her body tense further. Between the interceptors quietly probing their vessel and the ground delegation being led by fearful and compromised Talu leader Zhora knew they had to walk a fine and delicate line to prove both their innocence and worth in the eyes of Talu and the Dominion.

"Why did the sensors not detect their ship before now?" the Andorian asked.

Anzai’s heart skipped a beat, the cold weight of the Sulu legacy feeling like a physical shackle as the Commander’s question hung in the air. Her fingers flew across the console, not with the frantic energy of a cadet, but with the cold, rigid discipline of someone who had memorized the technical specifications of every known threat in the quadrant.

"Commander, the sensor blind spot wasn't a malfunction; it was a tactical exploit," Anzai reported, her voice regaining that brittle, glass-sharp clarity. Her silver-tinted skin caught the harsh blue light of the scrolling data. "I'm analyzing the residual ion trail. The vessel is a Jem’Hadar Recon Ship. It’s a variant of the standard attack bug, but significantly upgraded for covert operations. They likely used a high-bandwidth sub-quantum mask to mimic the planet’s own electromagnetic noise. Sora was right—that six percent interference we couldn't clear? That wasn't just atmospheric friction. The Recon Ship was sitting inside that noise, using the Talu’s own thermal interference as a cloaking shroud."

"How cunning," Zhora nodded a touch impressed by the Dominion's ability to slip in undetected.

"Coaxial is spun up and ready." Ash announced, quietly. "We'll need to put some distance between ourselves and the Talu Interceptors when we jump or they'll be crushed." She added, directing the last more toward Urvasi than anyone else before turning to look to Kuzos. "This is test." The Tuansee stated, before turning back to her station. "The massacre was a test as well. To what end? No idea, but it feels like we're running a maze, responding to stimuli and someone is taking notes." She mused.

Urvasi, one ear always focused back toward the bridge, caught the information from Ash. Her tail jounced twice in a tailed raced gestured of 'confirmed'. Despite different races having tail, the double 'draw in, raise and lower out' twice seemed to be universal. She began plotting various in and out routes for the dance of tesing, to the just in case they needed to rescue a shuttle, and to just leaving in order to return when tempers died down.

"That is a good question, Randall," Sora noted as she redistributed power from the auxiliary and backup systems to bolster shields and engines, just in case this standoff turned hot. "I would be very curious to find out who's doing this. Do we have any new info on whatever it is that's infecting the Talu?"

Anzai’s fingers didn't stop. They couldn't. If she stopped, the interference would become a chasm, and she would fall into it. She recalibrated the sensors, her eyes flicking between the biosigns spikes and the interceptors. "I’m running a secondary comparative analysis now on our away team, the patients, and the Dominion personnel that beamed down," Anzai reported, her voice strained but steady. "Bio-readings for the Commodore are stable but... altered. The cold is affecting his neural pathways. His judgment could be compromised by Stage One hypothermia."

She felt Kuzos shift behind her. He didn't need to speak for her to feel the weight of his scrutiny.

Sulu paused, her heart skipping as a new line of data scrolled up. "Wait. I'm picking up a micro-fluctuation in the Talu bio-markers near the Minister. It’s localized. It’s not spreading through the air; it’s reacting to something on them." She typed quickly on her workstation's keyboard, adjusting indicators and screens. Anzai transferred the information to the viewscreen. She looked up at the viewscreen, at the silent, dark world below. "We can't confirm the infection's source yet, but the Dominion's deployed an energy field of some type. It isn't neutralizing the resonance, but it’s masking a specific frequency. It’s almost like they’re putting a mute on a trumpet, the notes are still there we just can't hear them."

Fascinated by the readings Zhora rose from her seat to study it in more depth attempting to understand the reasoning behind the tactic.

Sora frowned. "Curious," she muttered, looking at the data on the viewscreen. "I remember one mission I was part of on Voyager, during my cadet cruise. We were ordered to observe tests for a new bioweapon. In order to make sure the local population didn't figure out what was happening, the Captain ordered a similar type of masking field be employed. I wonder if the Dominion has more to do with this crisis than they're letting on. Would not be the first time someone infected a population, convinced them someone else was to blame, and then conveniently had the cure ready."

"A bioweapon," Kuzos repeated, his voice barely more than a silk-threaded whisper as he stood with his hands clasped behind the small of his back, eyes locked on the viewscreen where the jagged waveforms of the Dominion’s "stabilizer" danced. He let out a soft, dry chuckle that lacked any trace of warmth as the light from Tactical cast long shadows across his face, "Commander Sora, your time on Voyager seems to have left you with a delightfully cynical imagination. It’s almost Vorta in its efficiency."

"However," he continued, stepping closer to the Science station with his expression was one of mild, academic interest, "to suggest that the Founders would stoop to such... clumsy theatrics is to fundamentally misunderstand the nature of the Great Link. They do not need to invent a crisis when the Federation is so proficient at providing them. You bring your ‘standardized’ coatings, your ‘sanitized’ air, and your ‘optimized’ protocols to a world that has survived for millennia on precisely the opposite. You didn't need a bioweapon to poison the Talu, Lieutenant. You only needed to be yourselves."

The Andorian woman turned abruptly upon her heel: "That's enough Kuzos," she snapped. "That attitude isn't helping. I suggest you stow it."

Kuzos did not flinch as Commander zh’Roothi’s reprimand lashed across the Bridge. Instead, he simply adjusted the cuff of his tunic, his expression settling into a mask of serene, almost pitying patience. To the Vorta, the emotional volatility of the Enterprise crew was a fascinating study in entropy; they shouted because they were afraid, and they were afraid because their precious "manuals" had no chapters on how to defeat a god who arrived bearing gifts.

He tapped a long, pale finger against the edge of Anzai’s console, right next to the readout of the "mute" frequency. "But you are correct about the masking," Kuzos admitted, his tone dropping into a colder, more clinical register. "Borath is a Medical Attaché, not a saint. That field isn't a cure; it’s a diplomatic curtain. He is simply ensuring that the Prime Minister only hears the melody the Dominion wants him to hear. If the Talu cannot hear the Federation’s ‘trumpet,’ they will naturally assume the instrument has been broken and a broken instrument is a useless ally. Borath isn't waiting for a miracle, he’s waiting for you to blink; he's waiting and will frame any action as an attack on the Talu's remaining hope. He successfully turned your science into a weapon against you," the Vorta concluded as a thin, needle-sharp smile returning to his face.

Urvasi kept her position for now. While the Talu Interceptors had let their presence be known, they had not went farther than letting their presence be known and 'guarding' the planet. Urvasi's eyes narrowed slightly as she thought about how they were positioning. They were being a deterrent against the Enterprise moving closer, keeping the landing party and shuttle 'out of reach' of the Enterprise. Well, she would play the game, while keeping her options open. She plotted a new course, one that would take them away, then return through the opposite side of the system, then using planets and natural spacial objects to help keep them obscured in approach. She called out, "Bridge, Helm. The Talu Interceptors are blockade running for the planet. I have plotted a course to allow us to approach the planet from another vector by using the system to obscure us as long as we are in stealth mode. Thank you for listening."

"The temperatures being encountered planet side make an aerosol transmission unlikely." Ash observed, quietly. "There is, virtually, no pathogen any Enterprise crew member could be carrying that wouldn't be rendered inert, immediately, and there is the simple reality of biological unsuitability going from disparate host to disparate host, so it is a near certainty that the infection is a bioweapon." She added and turned to look directly at Kuzos. "Who would have a suitable bioweapon, on hand, to so effectively devastate the Talu and be willing to set it loose to prove a point?" She asked, pointedly. "Clumsy or not, the likelihood of its origin being the Dominion is far from non-existent, particularly, as I get the strong impression that the Founders are not of one mind on the subject of the Federation being in Dominion space." She continued, and looked to the XO. "With that said, I still think we are dealing with a third party with its own agenda at work." She concluded.

Still on her feet Zhora pivoted towards Ash, curious to hear the Engineers's theory. The speed of which the outbreak had begun following the Enterprise's visit had felt suspicious to the XO. Perhaps she'd been too quick to give into her own mounting guilt, fearing their presence had caused a medical reaction among the Talu population to consider another possibility.

"Your persistence in seeking a villain is almost touching," Kuzos purred, his expression shifting to a weary, practiced condescension. "You speak of host suitability and aerosol transmission as if the galaxy were a sterile petri dish. You forget that the most effective pathogens are often just dissonance. A culture shifted too far, a frequency adjusted by a fraction. Internal strife is merely a concept you project onto the Link to comfort your own chaotic individuality. As for the Founders, to suggest internal strife is to project your own chaotic individuality onto a perfection you cannot comprehend. If Borath is here, it is because the Link wills it. Whether Borath brought the fire or simply arrived to sell the water is irrelevant to the Talu. In their eyes, your hands are empty, and his are full. The 'third party' you seek is likely just the ghost of your own inadequacy."

Again, Zhora whipped around ready to voice her frustrations at Kuzos who was one move away from being dismissed from the Bridge when Sulu spoke up.

"Commanders!" Anzai’s voice cut through the Vorta’s philosophical musing, "The Dominion delegation has departed." Anzai's fingers were flying to track the trajectory. "I’m tracking the beam-up; Minister Borath and the Jem'Hadar have cleared the facility and returned to their vessel at the equator. Prime Minister Dervimnurk and the Away Team remain in the ward." She sent scans of the planet to the viewscreen, "But the 'masking field' Borath deployed is still active. It’s expanding, Commander, as is beginning to blanket the entire clinic perimeter."

Ash had turned back to her workstation while Kuzos bloviated in defense of the omniscient infallibility of the great link and waited for either the acting CO or the Acting XO to acknowledge the revelations from Lt. Sulu and tuned out the alarm bells ringing in her head.

On the viewscreen the field spread outward as the Lieutenant described, below the two hour clock continued to tick down. "Sora," Zhora crossed towards Ops. "Do we still have a lock on the Away Party?"

"We do," the Terran confirmed, projecting a map of the clinic onto the viewscreen as well, with markers indicating the positions of the away team, as well as the Talu, with name labels for all identified individuals. "Looks like they're talking still."

Ash studied the telemetry coming in and compared what sensors were saying to what monitoring from the life-support belts were returning and patched the feed over to Kuzos, zh'Roothi and Sora. "Telemetry from the life-support belts." She announced, flatly, and let the data feed speak for itself.

He turned his attention back to the data Ash had patched through, his lilac eyes scanning the life-support belt telemetry with the speed of a high-bandwidth processor. The numbers were a cold symphony of failure.

"The Engineer is correct," Kuzos said, his voice dropping into a clinical register. "The planet is a heat sink, and your technology is an inefficient candle." He leaned toward Sulu’s station, watching Borath’s masking field bloom like a bruise. "You seek a monster to slay, but the telemetry shows a sanctuary. Borath hasn't just hidden the resonance; he’s stabilized the environment." Kuzos straightened with courtly finality. "Stop looking for a pathogen. The Talu’s biology is trying to sync with the Dominion’s field. We must identify the frequency Borath is masking, not to 'shut it down,' but to understand what about us is so toxic. The clock is counting down to the moment the Talu decide your rules aren't worth their lives. You need to be ready for it."

"Then we don't have a moment to lose," Zhora turned away from the viewscreen with her face set. "For the sake of the Talu and our people we cannot afford that countdown to strike midnight."

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