Ghost Riders in the Sky

Posted on Mon May 4th, 2026 @ 11:44am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Commander Ash Randall

2,558 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: 9a. Oubliette - Short Treks
Location: Ready Room, U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-10-09, 12:30

The doors to the Ready Room slid shut with a near-silent hiss, sealing Commodore Wilkan Targaryen and Commander Ash Randall into a cocoon of private tension. The rhythmic, low-frequency thrum of the ship’s primary systems - usually a comforting meditation - felt heavy, each vibration a physical count towards a decision he had not yet fully authorized. He was an El-Aurian, and the subtle "undertow" of Ash’s cryptic language during the briefing had resonated in his mind. 'We'll get us there and back. The three of us.' Followed by that wink. It wasn't standard operating procedure, and it wasn't exactly the Commander Randall he knew.

He didn't turn to face her immediately. Instead, he walked slowly toward the great viewport. Outside, the Chamra Vortex was an absolute nightmare of churning, iridescent cosmic forces, a beautiful, violent graveyard of signals and light. Indigo and violet dust rolled over itself in deep, complex energy dunes that pressed like a suffocating blanket against the glass, contrasting sharply with the dim internal light of the Ready Room.

Wilkan clasped his hands behind his back, his fingers absently brushing the textured zipper of his division-colored uniform. He knew Ash was waiting, but he needed a heartbeat to reconcile the data with his intuition. This nebula hid everything, including, it seemed, the true state of his own crew. He watched the gases roll, the vortex looking like a swirling eye in the void. He let the silence stretch for a long moment before finally turning around, his gaze direct and serious, to confront the Chief Engineer.

He kept his view locked on the window, Ash's reflection playing across the transparent aluminum directly behind the Commodore. Enterprise's Captain got right to it, not holding back, "Where's Ash?"

"Here..." The diminutive Tuansee replied, the answer truthful and a little evasive at the same time, a caveat, lime the Hindenburg aflame, floating in the air for a second or two as she paused. "...and, 'turning valves' in main engineering...masked from internal sensors." She added, quietly, and waited for the follow up questions rather than just inundating the ship's Captain with everything at once. The engineer was surprisingly calm, all things considered.

The silence that followed her admission was thick and heavier than the gravitational shear of the nebula outside. Wilkan didn't move. He continued to watch the reflection of the woman wearing Ash Randall’s face in the transparent aluminum, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaotic indigo tides of the Chamra Vortex churning behind her. His El-Aurian intuition, that internal compass for truth and dissonance, hummed with a low, warning frequency. She was telling the truth — the real Ash was indeed in Engineering — but the existence of a doppelgänger on his senior staff during a high-stakes mission in the Gamma Quadrant was a security breach of staggering proportions.

"Masked from internal sensors," Wilkan repeated, his voice dangerously level. He finally turned away from the viewport, his hands remaining clasped firmly behind his back, his posture as rigid and precise as the zipper of his uniform. He stepped into the center of the room, his dark eyes locking onto hers with the weight of over a century of experience.

"You’ve bypassed Federation command protocols, compromised ship-wide security, and effectively high-jacked a Century Class starship's primary engineering function during a crisis," he stated, the words measured and cold, "And you did it with a wink and a cryptic tally of 'the three of us.'" He took a slow step toward her, closing the distance until he was well within her personal space, using his height to ground the conversation. "Explain the necessity. And start with who, or what, is currently standing in front of me, before I have Security vent this room of anything that isn't a recognized life sign."

"I am Ash." She replied, looking nearly straight up to make eye contact due to the difference in their heights. "Just, not your Ash." She added, quickly, still calm, her words measured and controlled. "And, I am from Lt. Commander Bernadotte's universe, or more precisely, one of its many alternate timelines." She revealed, the words ringing absolutely true as she spoke them. "For full disclosure, I did not come to this universe by accident nor did I come empty handed." She continued. "Fifteen years ago, I stole a ship, I helped design, that had a unique propulsion system, an equally unique power source along with shields and weapon systems an order of magnitude more powerful than any other ship in existence. A juggernaut that could jump into an adversary's home system, raze an entire planet in a minute or two, and then jump out. A game changer. It was the first of its class and a weapon that would allow the Empire to prevent its, eminent, destruction...their last, great, hope...and I couldn't allow that to happen." She explained, her words accompanied by a curious mixture of anger and wistful sadness. "As for the necessity, well, you made it necessary with that gambit you pulled to save the Talu. There was no way to make the sensor ghost last more than 12 seconds and it was, quite literally a, one in a million, chance to jump in, do the deed, and jump out in that time window. Something had to maintain that sensor ghost...something that could remain and not be crushed by the entry jump or smashed on the return jump. It was not without risk, of injury or death, so we drew straws and I drew the short straw that put me on the bridge and, your Ash, in Frankenshuttle to maintain the ghost." Ash related, and sighed. "I could tell, at the time, you knew something was off, but not what, and I figured that would be the end of it but, my counterpart didn't come away unscathed, and I've had to stand in for her...no serious injury, just impossible to hide and sickbay, given the circumstances, was not an option. I knew the jig was up when Urvasi paused that extra second or two, next to me, and your, proverbial, ears perked up. I am identical, in every way...even my 'vibrational signature' matches, except, I carry the echo of my nightmare existence as a slave, so I do not 'feel' the same to those who are sensitive to such things." She admitted, her gaze not faltering, one iota, while she spoke.

The weight of her words settled between them, a sprawling narrative of theft, empires, and tactical gambits that Wilkan processed with the unnerving stillness of his kind. He didn't blink as she spoke of alternate timelines or stolen juggernauts; his mind was already cataloging the technical implications of a "Frankenshuttle" and the biological nuances of a vibrational signature scarred by slavery.

"An Empire’s last hope," Wilkan repeated quietly, his voice devoid of judgment but sharp with scrutiny. "You traded a planet-killer for a life as a stowaway and then risked that sanctuary for a 'one in a million' jump to save a people you barely know." He turned back to the viewport, the violet dunes of the Chamra Vortex seemingly shifting in response to the gravity of her confession. The image of his Ash, injured and hiding in the bowels of his ship while a version of her from a nightmare reality stood on his bridge, was a variable he hadn't accounted for in 2439.

"You say she isn't seriously injured, yet you deemed Sickbay 'not an option,'" he said, his reflection in the glass watching her closely. "If she is 'turning valves' to mask her signature, she is exerting herself when she should be recovering and if you are identical in every way, then you know exactly how much I dislike being handled, Commander." He turned back, his expression softening only a fraction, though his authority remained absolute. "Where is the ship you stole, and, more importantly, if I go to Engineering right now, am I going to find my Chief Engineer in a state that requires me to relieve both of you of duty?"

"You will find she is, perfectly, fine. A dermal regenerator is a fine healing instrument and one I am, very, skilled in the use of. However, it does not, regrow fur and, as I said, sick bay was not an option as there was no way to explain the plasma burns, as minor as they were, to a chief medical officer that was on the bridge with me when any plasma burns were, remotely, possible." She explained, quietly, completely understanding his concern. "As far as the ship goes, it is the ISS Millenium and I, carefully, hid it in the Ort cloud of the Sol system and, it is where I, usually, am. I do not stow away on your ship, Captain, I come and go and am, usually, not on board more than an hour; just long enough to maintain, physical, social bonds and compare mental notes in person." The engineer added and, anticipating the next question, continued on.

"I get, back and forth, the black, doctor bag Ash drags with her everywhere, in case you're wondering. A little bit of technology, deemed useless, that we found a use for. We're starting to fill out a little so it's tight squeeze to get in and out of it, the dimensions of the opening being the size limit before the aperture, in an out of the static warp bubble, without risking instability." She added, with a certain sense of pride at the technical achievement and then pressed on. "Fun fact. If you construct a static warp bubble in the correct way it can be accessed from anywhere. The rub is that, it takes enormous amounts of power, to create a stable aperture, and it is quite small in size. Your Ash hypothesized, published, and was roundly ridiculed here, while, in my universe, I kept it a complete secret and used it to help me steal the Millenium." She mused, aloud. "The Empire wouldn't have laughed at the concept. They would have 'encouraged' me to turn it into a weapon."

"A static warp bubble accessed via a medical bag," Wilkan murmured, the technical audacity of the feat momentarily eclipsing the security breach. He shifted his weight, the rhythmic thrum of the ship’s deck plates feeling suddenly like a countdown with the mention of the ISS Millennium - a planet-killing juggernaut. He looked back at the swirling indigo dunes of the Chamra Vortex, wondering how many other secrets were masked by the "undertow" of this mission, "It’s a clever use of the 'useless,' Commander, but using my ship as a social hub for an inter-dimensional fugitive and a hiding place for an injured officer crossed a line that even a 'one in a million' success doesn't fully erase."

"I will deal with the 'Frankenshuttle' and the sensor masking later," he said, his voice regaining its command edge after he turned back to face the woman who was, and was not, his Chief Engineer. "For now, we have a mission to complete. If you are as identical as you claim, then you know that Enterprise doesn't leave its people behind, regardless of which universe they originated from," his dark eyes searched hers for the "echo" she had described, the subtle dissonance in the air that his El-Aurian senses had been screaming about since the briefing.

"You will remain on the Bridge for the jump where I can keep an eye on you" Wilian ordered as he stepped closer, the proximity emphasizing the authority of his position. "If your counterpart is truly 'fine,' she will stay in Engineering and keep those valves turning until we are clear of the vortex and one more thing," he added, his gaze narrowing, "When this is over, I want the full specifications of the Millennium and that warp bubble aperture. If there is a weapon in the Sol system capable of razing a planet, I intend to know exactly how to keep it from becoming the next variable I have to solve for."

The 'echo' the captain was looking for was there and unmistakable; unceasing cruelty and, unimaginable, pain had left its mark. This Ash was identical to her counterpart, physically, mentally and, to a large degree, emotionally but her lived experience had left a subtle mark on that no amount of shared memories, experiences or physical, social contact that was so important to the mental health of a Tuansee, could mask the echo of her past life.

"Understood, sir. I will remain on the bridge, my counterpart will make sure the coaxial drive doesn't turn us into an origami crane, and you will have the specs, for the bag and the ship, as ordered." She replied, looking up to maintain eye contact with the much taller ship's captain, her expression and demeanor, unflinching, for the most part before she looked down for a few seconds. "We avoided direct interaction for most of a decade, sir, like there was some unspoken rule against it. We were aware of, and ignored, each other until your Ash visited her...our people and realized why she, well, we were half crazy all the time. Tuansee are not meant to be alone. She couldn't stay with her people because there was no place for her there. The rest you can probably guess and you may have noticed she's only a little bit nuts since we started having regular visits." Ash explained and took a step back. "Permission to return to the bridge, sir?" She asked.

Wilkan watched her for a second, his expression unreadable as he processed the revelation of Tuansee biology. The technical breaches were one thing, but the psychological necessity of their union added a layer of complexity he couldn't simply reprimand away. An El-Aurian understood the weight of long lives and the madness of isolation better than most.

"Permission granted, Commander," Wilkan said, his voice dropping some of its iron, but none of its weight. He stepped aside, clearing the path to the Ready Room doors. "But let's be clear: the 'half crazy' excuse only goes so far in Starfleet. I expect results on that Bridge that justify the risks you’ve both taken." He watched her walk toward the exit, her silhouette briefly framed against the violent indigo of the Chamra Vortex outside. Just as the doors began to hiss open, he spoke one last time, "And Ash? Tell your counterpart to be careful with those valves. I'd prefer the Enterprise remains in its current dimensions, rather than as an origami crane."

The engineer stopped and turned around, in respect for the Commodore addressing her by name, to face the man while he spoke. "Yes sir, understood." She replied, nodded, in respect, much as she would have in her home universe, and then continued out onto the bridge.

With a final, sharp nod, he turned back to the viewport. He was now a man standing between two universes, a planet-killer in his home system, and a crew that was literally more than the sum of its parts. He waited until he heard the doors seal her out before he tapped his comm badge.

"Targaryen to Bridge. Prepare for the coaxial jump on my mark. Commander zh'Roothi has the conn."

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