Solitary Man

Posted on Fri Jul 17th, 2026 @ 2:10pm by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Commander Ash Randall & Commander Zhora zh'Roothi & Lieutenant Commander Kuzos & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Commander Aidan Datari & Lieutenant Urvasi Elandorn & Lieutenant Rio Kholin MD & Lieutenant Amber Laurell & Chief Petty Officer Kiera Targaryen

9,606 words; about a 48 minute read

Mission: 9. Oubliette
Location: U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-10-09, 22:30

Captain's Log, Stardate 116772.43. Commodore Wilkan Targaryen recording:

The Enterprise is currently holding a stealthy polar orbit over the fifth planet of the Saltah'na system, cloaked by the planet’s electromagnetic interference to remain hidden as Xurbam makes his approach. Following the counsel of the A'Shura, we have developed a high-stakes medical treatment to stabilize the biological prison by harmonizing the personalities within him to force a total reintegration in hopes of allowing Xurbam to reexert control.

Despite our tactical positioning, I find myself uneasy. The margin for error is razor-thin in this endeavor and, if we fail to stabilize the fifty personalities or trigger an uncontrolled integration, we risk stripping away the prison walls and releasing a monster for our trouble. We are walking a precipice between salvation and catastrophe, and I am far from certain which way we will fall.

The Bridge of the Enterprise was bathed in the low-light of Red Alert, a stark contrast to the brilliant, shifting geometry of the holodisplay hovering before Wilkan’s center seat. At 22:30, the ship was a coiled spring, silent save for the rhythmic, sub-harmonic thrum of the Warp Core. Wilkan didn't look up at the officers at their stations; his gaze was fixed on the data streams—the jagged, flickering waveforms representing the unstable psyches of his crew and the fifty condemned criminals trapped within Xurbam.

His fingers danced through the light, manipulating the synthesis parameters Rio and the engineering team had finalized. He felt the weight of the command in his marrow. Centuries of history, a genocide, and the lives of seven of his own people rested on the precision of this one protocol. He was a man accustomed to the cold, clarity of space combat, where an enemy was a target and a solution was a Phaser lock. This was different. He wasn't preparing to destroy a ship; he was preparing to perform invasive surgery on a living, cosmic catastrophe.

He looked at the tactical overlay of the Saltah'na gravity well. The Enterprise was a scalpel, and he was the one deciding where to cut. If he pulled the trigger too early, he risked tearing the fragile psychic bonds apart and leaving behind a shattered, violent ruin. If he waited too long, he risked letting the architect of the Saltah'na extinction reassemble itself in the heart of its ancestral power.

Wilkan closed his fist, collapsing the holodisplay into a single, glowing node of potential energy. He could feel the anticipation around him, the unwavering focus of his Bridge crew. They were waiting for his order, trusting him to navigate the space between salvation and tragedy. He took a steadying breath, settling into the leather of the Captain's Chair. He was ready to be the key, but he would be damned if he let the universe suffer for the turn.

Rising from the Center Seat, the Enterprise's Commanding Officer looked at the waiting faces. "We're about to jump into the fray once more, and, as I look around this room, I see the same request on many faces: a confirmation that what we're doing is the right thing. It's so simple for us to lock Phasers and destroy the runabouts - to end those lives and move on to the next adventure - but what we're planning could save so many more, to bring life back where only death resides. You know your jobs, you know your duty, and together we will do what we do best: hold back the night so the light can continue to burn. All hands, battlestations."

Sora wasn't sure whether to applaud the speech, or roll her eyes at the naiveté that was so typical for the Federation. This belief that anyone and anything could be saved, and was worth saving. She had experienced enough things to know that that was often wishful thinking. But whatever her misgivings about the plan, she would be ready to play her part in its implementation - and be ready to act should it inevitably go wrong. "All systems holding steady. Sensors show the runabouts approaching at high warp, estimated time to intercept, seven minutes."

"Coaxial available at your discretion, sir." Ash announced, quietly. "Once we are detected, sir, I see the possibility that one, or both, of the runabouts will be dispatched to approach as close as close as they can get denote their warp cores to best effect against us." She added, helpfully.

From the helm, Urvasi called out, "Captain, Helm, I have 7 routes plotted for intercept through parabolic curves for keeping Enterprise out of harms way for various incoming vectors.. major probability covered, sent to your Command Chair HUD. Coaxial Hop can be done anytime with 350 msec delay from command to activating. Awaiting your command."

Freshly released from sickbay to attend to limited duties, Aidan stepped from the turbo lift car. He hesitated just beyond the threshold, tilting his head a fraction to take in the various voices and sounds. A nudge at his shoulder told him to keep moving and he smiled at the reassuring chirp from his companion. Another nudge as he reached his station and he'd made sure to count the steps. Putting the receiver his ear, he instructed the computer to switch his station to audio output as visual was currently a little useless.

With deliberate and careful movement, already feeling a little short on breath just from the walk from sickbay, the Trill sat down. "Science online," he announced, his voice not as strong as he'd like it to have been. "Scanning for disturbances in the fugitive and recalibrating to keep up. Also external filters ready to shut down just in case."

Amber was sitting keeping her own senses alert for any sign of Xurbam. She could only hope A’shura’s idea would work.

If Wilkan considered himself to be the delicate, calculated surgeon ready to offer Xurbam a chance at salvation Zhora felt she was the iron shod sledgehammer, ready and prepared to be used belligerently when the soft approach faltered. Her Federation training and sculpted mind had accepted the Commodore's humane efforts, however her roaring Andorian heart screamed out for a more permanent ending with the means to reap revenge for the lives cut short.

Regardless of her personal opinion it wouldn't alter how she'd conduct her duties: "All decks reported ready," she confirmed.

"Once more unto the breech," the Commodore nodded as time seemed to pass by more quickly. As the final preparations were made, they were quickly interrupted by the alert tones of the Enterprise's proximity sensors. The Commanding Officer rose to his full height from his chair, turning to look at the Science Officer, "On screen."

It took only a wink of an eye for the sensor display to change to the image of twin runabouts dropping out of Warp to Impulse power, the contrails of their engines trailing behind them as they slowed. They looked more battered than the Commodore had expected, the strain of their forced travel having brought them to the very brink. Surely a result of Xurbam's holding the minds of so many of his crew hostage, using their knowledge against the very ship they died to protect. It brought a chill to his spine to think about, but there would be time to mourn the dead later.

"Hold here," Targaryen ordered as he crossed his arms over his chest, his attention locked on the ships approaching. "Maintain low power mode until otherwise notified." He didn't know exactly how Ash would pull off such a feat with the Coaxial Drive spooled, but she was known for her miracles. Just as Urvasi was known for the piloting ones.

Urvasi went to station keeping as she called out, "Captain, Helm, Enterprise holding station." She kept track of the objects around them and kept adjusting her intercept with immediate evasive maneuvers updated.

"Maintain low power mode, aye sir." Ash acknowledged, her engineering presence doing the heavy lifting of maintaining the field masking the, Mount Everest sized, signature of the Coaxial Drive, spooled and ready to go while it was also offline and unavailable, its state as unknown as the fate of Schoedinger's cat before opening the box.

He tapped his communicator, "Bridge to Sickbay. Doctor, Kuzos, any updates on that treatment you've been planning? We're running low on time and Xurbam's entered orbit."

Hearing the commodore's question, Kuzos looked at Rio as he tapped his combadge and replied. "Patience Commodore, we're working on it just a few more minutes."

"Understood, Commander," Wilkan replied, his voice a low, steady rumble as his eyes remained fixed on the viewscreen. "But time is a luxury we’ve exhausted. If we aren't ready when he hits the orbital threshold, the opportunity vanishes."

"Understood Commodore." Kuzos replied and closed the link to help Rio on the treatment for Xurbam.

Rio nodded at the Commander at her side as she worked at the controls and the program on her main screen. They had done a huge and complicated job with the software they had and the equipment that the state of the art Medical Centre on the Enterprise. If this facility couldn't perform the task in front of them, then none could. Rio's former work on prostheses and how to persuade a brain to accept the bypasses and rerouting that installing those kind of adaptations had been extensive and she had also studied AI development and burgeoning personalities than were sometimes encountered and ring-fenced, inhibited or transfered so this was a chance for her to scrape the depths of her memories of all these former lessons and utilise them now. She looked back at Commander Kuzos again and nodded her readiness. "If we can get Xurbam into our ICU we can launch the program and do our utmost to separate him out." she said.

"I concur Doctor." Kuzos replied his violet eyes on her as he tapped his combadge. "We are ready to proceed Commodore. The rest is up to you and the bridge crew to deliver Xurbam to us."

Rio nodded once, her eyes meeting those of the Commander as he looked across at her whilst tapping his comm badge to communicate their readiness. She did not feel herself subconsciously straighten her shoulders as if to brace for what was about to happen, but it did make her silently feel more consolidated to have done it, it seemed like a metaphorical 'girding of her loins' as the ancient Terran expression went.

Galatea stood at the edge of the command dais watching the viewscreen as the runabouts approached. Her internal connection to the Enterprise's mainframe brought up details on the HUD, the natural interference that Xurbam caused making getting useful information difficult. She didn't like how slow this was going. Xurbam had killed seven members of the Enterprise's company - seven souls that she was responsible for. The Commodore wanted to try to rescue the creature, she respected that, but the Enterprise wasn't your typical Swiss Army Knife designed to keep the peace. For lack of a better term, she was a warship and there were times Galatea wanted to explore that more forcefully. Back when she was the AI for the Enterprise-G her options were a bit more limited, but on this ship, she had more weapons than she could count.

"Picking up anything on your senses, Counselor?" Galatea asked loud enough for the First Officer to overhear.

Amber looked towards Galatea. “Plenty, but part of it is those onboard ship. He…it, is definitely here, that much I know.”

Zhora felt herself nodding slowly at Amber's reply but still wasn't convinced: "We'll find out soon enough."

The clawed fingers of Rrawran danced across the secondary Tactical console as the Commodore spoke with the Security Chief and the ship's Doctor over the communicator. The lupine alien carefully monitored the readouts on his display screen, cautiously reviewing the readouts from the tactical sensors of the runabouts as they approached. He wondered what the captain was thinking not simply opening fire on the life-form. He'd killed many of the crew, but it wasn't his place to question the Commodore. Instead, he had to be ready should the olive branch require him to switch to arrows.

Adjusting settings on the control board, the computer issued a notice that his request had been denied by Operations. Turning his head toward the Operations Manager, he wondered if she hadn't liked her coffee earlier that he'd given her. Returning quickly to his controls, the furred alien input a secondary sequence into the panel, trying to use a backdoor to gain entry through Commander Datari's panel.

Sora frowned at the notification on her display and turned to the canine-like alien at Tactical. "What exactly are you trying to do, Lieutenant? Our orders right now are to monitor the runabouts until we are ready. It's not a secret that I am not the biggest fan of the plan, but it's the course of action that was decided upon, and we are a team. And don't think I can't see you trying into the science station, either."

The Trill science chief frowned as a 'hack' alert came in. "Why are you trying to gain access to my station?" He asked, "information should already be automatically shared with security as well as operations. If you are trying to override my commands, I recommend you desist your attempt."

"I seek only to ensure we are not blind when the cage breaks," the translator stated for the alien, tail stiffened, a sharp, bristling line of agitation behind him. The mechanized translator projected a voice of cold, detached steel, though the Rorworr’s own guttural growl vibrated beneath the digital tones, "If the plan fails, he will not have time to request a change in posture. I am merely preparing the weapons, should this 'cure' prove to be a grave error."

"As much as I agree with the sentiment," Sora replied, shaking her head. "You are not alone on this bridge, and you are not the commanding officer. Like I said, we are a team on this bridge. Communicate your intentions, rather than looking for backdoors into other people's consoles." Her hand, which had been hovering the key to engage an emergency lockout on Rrawran's console and transfer all tactical functions to her temporarily, relaxed. "I do believe that precautions are sensible," she added, turning slightly towards the Command chair.

"I may be blind, but my sensors aren't," Aidan answered, his words sounding almost like an alien growl, "I have a direct feed with astrometrics and I'm sure Sayori is working to keep us up to speed as well. Anything that comes in, is already fed to the connected consoles. All you have to do is ask."

"That's enough," the XO sounded. "Let's not make this already difficult feat worse by bickering or second guessing each other."

"Yes ma'am," Aidan answered automatically.

The Bridge atmosphere, already filled with tension, shattered as a high-pitched, harmonic alarm screamed from the Tactical console. Rrawran’s ears flattened instantly, his claws digging deep into the padding of his seat as he slammed his interface to life.

"Proximity alert!" Rrawran's mechanical translator barked, vibrating with static. "Warp signature detected, exiting near our position. It is not Xurbam. It is a Reliant Class vessel: the U.S.S. Nyota Uhura."

On the main viewscreen, the ship flickered into existence. Her arrival was sloppy; the ship’s warp bubble collapsing with a violent ripple of subspace static that surged through the Saltah’na gravity well. The reaction from the runabouts was instantaneous. The erratic, sputtering propulsion of the Frost River and Monongahela River smoothed out, the twin vessels whipping around, their sensors locking onto the newcomer with the lethal, singular focus of a cornered predator.

"The Uhura is hailing, but the signal is garbled by the distortion," Galatea remarked

Rrawran interrupted, his fur bristling as he felt the shift in the environment, "Xurbam is turning his focus toward the Uhura. The runabouts are re-routing power from their engines to their weapons. They are not retreating anymore, they are preparing to engage!"

"Dammit," Wilkan hissed as he slammed his palm against the armrest. The Uhura was a well-intentioned, if not ill-timed, complication. The precision they had worked so hard to cultivate for this operation was dissolving into chaotic, open warfare.

Wilkan’s gaze swept across the Bridge, his mind already categorizing variables and discarding failures. "The strategic situation has evolved. We need to neutralize the runabouts without compromising the Uhura or our own objective. Rrawran, keep them targeted, but hold fire. I want options, now!"

"We could target the shuttles with an EMP pulse to disable them," Aidan suggested, "if we combine OPS and science resources the deflector could potentially be used to send out such a beam. Or we reverse the polarity of the tractor emitters and use it to knock the Uhura or the shuttles out of the way."

"We are ready to transport Xurbam out and put him directly into our ICU for treatment but we may not have enough time?" Rio suggested into the comm system in response to the Commodore's demand for options.

"We could fire a full spread of Quantum Torpedoes set for proximity burst, bracket the runabouts and play kick the can with them. We would have to avoid any direct hits, but the combined damage from the proximity bursts should disable the runabouts and rattle Xurbam enough to eliminate the distortions for transport to ICU." The Chief Engineer suggested after several seconds of calculation and commiseration with herself.

Sora sighed and shook her head. She couldn't believe that the others were still considering bringing the highly hostile and dangerous alien creature back on board, especially after pissing it off even more. "Bad idea. All of it," she finally said, her voice full of frustration. "Do you really think bringing that thing back onto the ship is in any way safe? With the Uhura here now as well, it's just going to be angrier, and deadlier. I, for one, don't want to risk it rampaging all over Enterprise again. With all the knowledge it's absorbed, it will cause even more havoc. Either we disable the runabouts and get the treatment to it over there, or we blow it up. At this point, I vote in favour of the latter option."

The Ops officer shrugged. "Might just be the Terran speaking, but if it's between it going on a murderous rampage across the ship, or us blowing it to bits in space, the choice is pretty obvious."

Wilkan’s jaw tightened. He didn't turn to face the tactical station, but the cold weight of the bridge crew's hesitation was palpable. Rrawran’s tail lashed against the console, his translator projecting a growl of impatient, jagged metallic tones.

"The Operations Manager is correct, Commodore," the translator barked, the lupine alien’s ears pinned flat. "We are dancing on a grave. The Uhura has complicated the target’s behavior and sensors indicate his weapon systems are charged. To gamble with the safety of this ship for the sake of an unknown, psychopathic entity is a tactical failure. Destroy the runabouts now, before the Uhura pays the price for our hesitation."

"Rrawran," Wilkan said, his voice flat, dangerously calm. "Sora is right about one thing: we are currently a liability to ourselves. If I authorize a strike, the Uhura remains safe, the Enterprise remains secure, and the threat is ended. But we're not here to settle for the easiest path; we're here to win the best one. If we destroy him, we bury the truth of what happened to our crew alongside him, we lose the only chance to release the souls he's trapped; however," he turned his gaze to the tactical screen, "if we fail, the blood is on my hands, not yours."

"We aren't bringing him to the Enterprise," Wilkan decided, his voice hardening into a command, "but we aren't just ending a life either. "Bridge to Medical. I need a third option: Does this integration protocol require physical proximity, or can the harmonization be administered remotely?"

Rio heard the options, had already run through them a thousand times and had no hesitation in giving her response over the comms system.

=^= I'm afraid it has to be done in proximity Commodore, I therefore recommend that I should transport the necessary equipment onto the Runabout and perform the Operation in situ. It does sound risky but only to one life, i.e. mine, if Xurbam cannot be reasonable about the freedom and improved chance to continue to live, that the procedure offers him, then only my life would be at risk and not the entire ship's crew, Sir? =^=

Rio waited, listening carefully to the open channel.

Wilkan glanced at the monitor built into the Captain's Chair, the shuttle’s status flickered on his secondary display. Housed in Shuttlebay 1, the Christopher Pike had been stripped of its passenger configuration and refitted with medical equipment in its place; she was less of a shuttle now and more of a precision-engineered, mobile ICU. "Lieutenant," Wilkan pivoted toward the helm, his eyes burning with the cold clarity of a calculated risk. "Get the Christopher Pike ready for immediate deployment. Sora, clear its departure."

Urvasi knew the Captain was talking to her when the words 'Christopher Pike' were heard. She called out a quick, "On it, Sir." She now activated the comms to the flight deck of Shuttlebay 1 and began coordinating with them to get the Pike up and going via emergency protocol.

Sora's hands flew across her console. "Cleared for automated departure protocol when ready," she confirmed. Although the idea of the Commodore taking such a dangerous mission on himself didn't quite sit right with her, she somewhat cynically thought that, since he was the one insisting on going through with this harebrained scheme, it was only right that he'd do it himself.

"Ash, program the optimal spread pattern for the Quantum Torpedoes and share with Tactical. Rrawran, begin firing the torpedoes on Commander zh'Roothi's order."

"Wilkan..." Zhora began to object in a low tone realising with a sickening lurch what the Commodore was about to do. "There must be another option rather than put yourself in danger. I'll go otherwise, your place is here."

"And let you have all the fun, Exec?" Enterprise's Commander countered, his tone softening just enough to acknowledge her concern before the steel returned to his voice. "No. I committed us to this action; my responsibility is making sure that no harm comes to anyone else because of it."

"Torpedo composition and firing sequence transferred to tactical." The Chief Engineer announced, quietly, the composition of the munitions, timing of their firing sequence and the pattern to be laid out a, master class, study in tactical precision; from the twin sun burst warheads to blind the targeting sensors of the runabouts to the micro-torp, cluster war heads targeted and timed to beat the crap out of the small vessels without destroying them, it was concise, precise and left no avenue for Xurbam to evade a debilitating beating.

Urvasi called out, "Commodore Targaryen, Lt. Elandorn, I volunteer to pilot the shuttle, willingly."

"I won't ask this crew to do anything that I wouldn't do myself," the Commodore explained, "nor will I put them in harm's way idly. I committed us to this path, I decided we'd try to help the creature, I'll pilot the Christopher Pike. Keep a close eye on the shuttle, do whatever you can to overcome Xurbam's interference. Commander zh'Roothi is in command until I return."

"Understood," Aidan responded simply, knowing that there was no way to talk the captain out of piloting the shuttle himself. This was something he had to do, the Trill justified to himself. "Science will continue to monitor," he acknowledged.

In defeat the Andorian woman jerked her head with annoyance at Targaryen's bravado but respected his decision none the less. Holding his gaze she relented: "Be careful," she instructed.

"Commodore." Ash started, in the clear, quiet, tone the Tuansee was known for. "I know there is no talking you out of taking this on yourself so I will not make the attempt. However, I do ask that you lock out your fleet level command codes as well as for Galatea and ships systems...just in case the worst should come to pass." The Chief Engineer requested, respectfully.

Wilkan nodded to Ash, the request cutting through the adrenaline with the cold, hard logic he required. "Computer," he called out, "Computer transfer all command codes to Commander Zhora zh'Roothi and advance to provisional rank of Captain. Disable all Fleet level access for Commodore Wilkan Targaryen for 12 hours. Voice authorization: Targaryen 1 Sigma 70 Alpha 1 Pi."

"Commands confirmed. Transfer complete. U.S.S. Enterprise now under command of Provisional Captain Zhora zh'Roothi."

"Doctor," he tapped his communicator as he walked toward the Turbolift, "I'm on my way to Shuttlebay 1. If you or someone else wants to accompany me to administer this treatment meet me there. Otherwise, I'm on my own. Kuzos, get back to the Bridge. Zhora's going to need your expertise at Tactical."

=^= Aye Sir =^= Rio responded and began to prepare, taking this as the CO's acceptance of her proposal that she should go, although with an adaptation that she should not go alone.

Urvasi called after him, "Commodore, Shuttle Bay 1, Christopher Pike 72 seconds to full readiness."

Kuzos's voice filtered back through the com. "Understood Commodore. I am on my way." The response simple. direct and precise.

"Thank you both," Wilkan replied, knowing that his Flight Controller and the Tactical Officer were probably none too happy to be remaining aboard the Enterprise. He wouldn't throw the crew out to the wolves though, not this time at least. He cast one last look at the Bridge - a silent sweep of the officers who had become his lifeline - before turning toward the lift. He felt the weight of the Enterprise behind him, a warship held in check by the thin, fragile promise of a cure.

Pulling it back together, he announced, "I'll have the Pike away in sixty seconds," he stepped into the turbolift and turned back toward the crew, "It's up to you all, now, just as it always was. It's been an honor." The Commodore's voice could be heard ordering "Shuttlebay" as the doors slid shut.

Sora shook her head as the turbolift doors closed. "He really is a madman, isn't he." She took a deep breath, briefly checked the status displays for the shuttlebay, and finally turned towards Zhora. "Your orders?"

"Is it me, or did that sound rather final?" Aidan asked no-one in particular, "he's not expecting to come back, is he..."

"A madman indeed," the mechanical voice of Rrawran echoed, cold and devoid of the lupine officer’s actual distress. His fur bristled, his tail twitching with sharp, erratic movements of profound dissatisfaction. "He ignores the most basic safeguards of our service. General Order 15 is explicit: No officer of command or flag rank shall travel into a potentially hazardous area without suitable armed escort."

"His actions would be covered, under these conditions, by General Order Zero." Ash stated, calmly, and looked to Galatea. "He would not be taking these actions otherwise nor without the authorization of the Vice Admiral to do whatever it takes, at his sole discretion, to stop a, system-by-system, genocide. His choice of action is understandable if not regrettable but he is absolutely depending upon us to set the table set for him and to be there to clean up afterward, one way or another." She finished.

"Ash is correct," Galatea interjected, her voice smooth and echoing with the processing power of the entire ship. "The Commodore isn't being reckless; he's being efficient. If the Pike fails, the Enterprise remains the final safeguard. We don't mourn him yet, we ensure he succeeds. Your concern for the Commodore's safety is noted, but your tactical assessment is missing a variable," Galatea stated, her voice projecting across the Bridge. "Sensors indicate unauthorized personnel have entered Shuttlebay 1. Commander Kuzos and Ensign Yumerieva are currently aboard the Christopher Pike."

Rrawran’s ears flattened against his skull, a low, guttural growl vibrating through the floorboards of the bridge as his claws dug into the console interface. "That insubordinate!" The translator barked, the metallic tone catching the sudden spike in the lupine officer’s heart rate. "The Shuttlebay was supposed to be restricted! They are bypassing the security protocols!"

"Imagine that, the security chief bypassing security protocols," Aidan muttered under his breath, not at all surprised over this development.

Sora placed her head in her palm. "I swear, her recklesness is going to get that little rat killed sooner rather than later."

"Be as that may we must have faith in their abilities," Zhora bit back a sigh. "As Targaryen is expected from ourselves. The shuttle and her complement will be replying to us to pull them out of the fire if things go astray."

The provisional Captain stood feeling a new weight of responsibility pulling at her very soul as straightened and gazed around the bridge. The prospect of losing the Commodore into Xurbam’s being was chilling - the knowledge he held, the secrets he bore would be twisted and turned threatening the safety and security of Starfleet and beyond.

It was something they simply could not allow.

"Sora, Aidan," Zhora directed. "Keep trying to raise the Uhura. Give her explicit instructions not to engage the shuttles and be prepared for the pulse from our torpedoes once the Pike is in position. Rrawran," zh'Roothi turned to tactical: "I expect Xurbam to be wise to our plan to disable the shuttles and will attempt to override our targeting sensors. Be ready to launch without such guidance - we're only going to get one chance at this, so make it count. Urvasi," she stepped forward. "Maintain our position for now."

"On it, Captain" Sora acknowledged the order, putting special emphasis on the rank. "Looks like our target is blocking ship-to-ship comms, I'm trying to figure out a way around it." She shook her head in frustration. "I still think we should just blow it up and be done with it, for the record."

"Captain, Helm, maintaining position," Urvasi answered Zhora.

Despite the situation the Andorian's thin lips twitched momentarily at Sora's quibble and firm definition of provisional rank Zhora had been bestowed. "Noted Sora," she nodded silently affirming she secretly agreed with the notion.

"Attempting to raise the Uhura," Aidan acknowledged, "no response... Sayori, try boosting our signal and rotate frequencies. There has to be a way to get through. If all else fails.." Aidan paused, not quite keen on this suggestion but it was a last resort... "I'll get Sherlock to get over there and drop them a PADD." It was a risk because Sherlock had never been there and he did need to know where he was going. "I need an image of their captain and an image of their bridge in that event..."

"Sending possible solutions to Ops," Sayori's voice came through comms.

"I'd rather not put any more resources at risk than strictly necessary at this point," the Captain shook her head at Aidan's suggestion. "Given the Uhura have never encountered Sherlock they may act with hostility."

Sora nodded. "Got them. Hopefully one of those will work. And I agree with the Captain, sending Sherlock is an absolute last resort. I think I can get a transporter connection going, if all else fails, and we'd definitely be better off sending a person in Starfleet uniform than a little creature none of them have ever seen before."

"Last resort," Aidan agreed as Sherlock echoed the sentiment with a soft chirp of his own. He stayed close to his master, whirling eyes traveling across the bridge to take it all in, yet all the same ready to fly into action. "Still nothing from the Uhura."

"I volunteer," Icarus said without pause, looking at the Chief Medical Officer. "Your expertise is needed here doctor. Tell me what to do and I'll go."

Sawbones stood near the triage console, his eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold between Doctor Kholin and Icarus. The holographic doctor let out an audible, sharp huff, his hands resting on his hips as he surveyed the medical bay with familiar, simmering irritation.

"Volunteer?" Sawbones barked, his voice carrying that sharp, unmistakable cadence of a man who had zero patience for dramatics. "What is this, a recruitment drive for the afterlife? I’ve got patients stabilizing in here and half the ship acting like they're auditioning for a tragedy!"

He turned his gaze toward the Chief Medical Officer, Rio Kholin, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Doctor, you're the one holding the scalpel, not this one. If we’re going to be foolish enough to let the Commodore fly that shuttle into a gravity well, the least we can do is keep our actual medical professionals on this side of the hull. He wants to go? Fine. But don't you dare send our best hands to go play cargo handler when we're about to be swamped with whatever disaster he brings back!"

"He needs a medic with him, the CMO is needed here," the feline answered, almost logically.

"Thank you Icarus for your brave and thoughtful offer, I'll see that it is put onto your file for accreditation when all this is over" Rio said with a calm demeanour. "I am going to agree word for word with the Commodore and say verbatim that neither will I ask any of my valuable people - especially one as promising as yourself Icarus, to do something that I'm not prepared to do myself. "I will accompany the Commodore, it will be easier to accomplish what I am trying to do with assistance and I'm not in a position to anything more than protest most strongly .........." Rio stopped...... ~or am I?~ she wondered.

Commodore Wilkan Targaryen stepped into the Christopher Pike through the forward ramp of the craft, his boots echoing against the deck plates as he boarded the vessel. He took a quick moment to study the interior, noting the stark transition from the forward cockpit to the mission compartment and genuinely wishing that there had been a door separating the two sections. While the Pike was once a standard personnel transport, the shuttle had been reconfigured into an ambulance shuttle, its modular space stripped to accommodate the heavy-duty life support arrays the precision-engineered mobile ICU required to operate. He glanced through the viewport at the craft’s exterior: the modern, unibody teardrop hull and the underslung warp nacelles that gave the ship its aerodynamic grace and stability partially in view.

As he settled into the pilot’s seat on the left side of the cockpit, the gravity of his decision weighed on him. For a hybrid of Lanthanite and El-Aurian descent, mortality had always been a distant, abstract concept - a slow-moving horizon he rarely had to confront. He had spent over a century of his life observing the frantic lives of others, rarely finding his own existence in the crosshairs, but facing Xurbam was different. This wasn't a philosophical inevitability; it was a tactical calculation that could end in his own sudden erasure. He had faced death before, but something about this time echoed in his mind.

He felt a strange, chilling clarity in that realization. If he became a variable in Xurbam’s twisted equation, his long, quiet tenure in the universe would snap shut in a heartbeat. The complex power management hurdles of the shuttle’s specialized medical hardware mirrored his own internal tension; he was pushing his existence to the limit to fuel a desperate hope for a cure. He checked the status of the auxiliary power packs, his hands steady despite the cold, creeping reality that he might not return. He had committed the Enterprise to this path, and for the first time in his long life, he was not just the architect of the plan: he was the primary risk.

Glancing up from the console, he watched as the Doctor approached the craft.

"Hello Commodore." Kuzos's voice came from the rear of the shuttle. "Shields and weapons such as they are, are online and fully powered up and ready to be used," The Vorta reported, "Once the Doctor is aboard, we are ready to proceed and hopefully bring this to a satisfactory conclusion for all involved."

Approaching the type 20 Shuttle, Mira looked over it with a practiced eye. She had been cleared from sickbay about an hour ago after new protocols were put into place to look for the spores, of which she was clean. Her care with the seals on the filters, her transitions with the vacuums and her life support belt cycles, her clothes trapping any near her, as well as a natural resistance had kept her without bodily contamination. Of course, just a few minutes ago, being a very junior officer, she was once more assigned to an Aux Craft going out on a mission. Mira could only hope it wasn't for another Nebula scan for weeks on end, still, it was her rotation for such missions, she would endure if it was that, again. She moved up to the monitoring console and saw the final stored readings before it was disconnected, all stat. She was already wearing another life support belt, had a spare power cell, and just had to grab the Eng Repair Satchel from the hook on the side of the monitoring equipment.

Mira entered the shuttle and went directly towards the equipment status console, not looking at who was already crewing it. As she did, she said out loud, "Ensign Yumerieva reporting as your resident Engineer, Sirs. Connecting for direct control of power systems for ... Medical module and Christopher Pike now. Type 20 Shuttlecraft telltales shows ready to launch at your discretion."

"Ensign Yumerieva, your initiative is appreciated, but the Christopher Pike is a high-risk mobile ICU," Wilkan stated, his voice firm as he continued. "We are facing a predator that steals souls; I will not justify placing additional personnel in his path."

Mira froze upon hearing the voice. It was the Captain, Commodore Targaryen. He was the shuttle pilot? Why? Wasn't that against General Order 15? She turned towards the Flag Rank Officer while trying to organize her thoughts.

"Kuzos, I thought I ordered you to the Bridge?" He turned his focus to the Vorta next, his expression hardening a moment before relenting. "Truth is I could use you, both of you, but the Pike is a two-man craft, and the cabin is already compromised by the target. I won't risk you if containment fails. Captain zh'Roothi needs you, both of you, now more than ever."

Wilkan gestured toward the ramp at the front of the craft between the two workstations, "That is not a request. Once the doctor gets here, we're leaving."

Despite the situation, despite the danger, despite the overwhelming odds against them Kuzos wore a bright smile and a shake of his head. "No Commodore it was a suggestion and now that i am here, I am staying." His violet eyes locked on Wilkan's. "Not to mention you need us, you need our hands, our assistance you and the doctor can not do it all. So, do not pretend that you can. In addition in the spirit of the Dominion- Federation allegiance, I must go. If this partnership is going to succeed, then we must all share in the risks, the danger. You wouldn't want me to report to Odo that you refused Dominion help would you? Who know what his reaction would be. I daresay at the least he would close the Gamma Quadrant to the Federation."

Hearing the Chief Tactical Officer and his explanation, Mira decided to give it a shot. She replied to Wilkan, "Sir, on board is a specialized ambulance module with special science, engineering, and medical modifications. This module normally is for 5 people, 1 doc, 3 nurses, 1 techs. With these modifications you will need a tech to keep the Frankenstein's Monster up and running, and since it is my rotation duty for being the engineer/tech on board, that make's me your gal." Her tail, slightly animated while talking, brushed against her life support belt. She glanced at it, then added, "May I suggest I grab life support belts for Doc, Tactical Chief, and yourself? It helped when I faced the spores and Xurbam from the previous mission, so it might help with whatever this mission is for.... "

Wilkan sighed, the steel of his posture straining against the cramped confines of the cockpit of the Pike. He looked from Kuzos, whose diplomatic defiance was as infuriating as it was strategically sound, to Mira, whose pragmatic assessment of the technical requirements hit a nerve he had been trying to suppress.

"Odo would never hear of it, Kuzos, because you wouldn't be alive to report it," Wilkan countered, a faint, humorless smirk touching his lips. "Though I suppose my authority is moot anyway: I transferred my command codes to Zhora. I’ve temporarily retired from the chain of command, and I can’t technically order you off the Pike."

He swiveled back to the console, his tone dropping into a cold, predatory focus. "But hear this: a standard ambulance shuttle runs a crew of three. We're already at an over-capacity nightmare, not a safety protocol. If you’re staying, you are not here to watch. Once that thing is aboard, he'll be looking for a way off this ship, and he'll try whatever it takes to do it." He glanced at the Ensign. "If you're going to stay, you’re the tech on duty. Keep the ICU's power locked to the auxiliary packs; if Xurbam forces a fluctuation, isolate the module." He spared a sharp look for his Security Chief. "Kuzos, you’re on environmental monitoring. If that creature reaches through the sensors, you cut the link. We aren't here to play hero, we’re here to perform a procedure on a killer. Don't let it kill you first."

Mira listened to the 'standard ambulance shuttle = 3 crew' as she tried to correlate with what she knew from school. The ambulance module fit into the shuttle, rescued 6, 1 doc, 1 triage nurse, 1 nurse, 1 tech... whoops, but then, this was a newer shuttle 20.. and then the word 'Xurbam' was spoken. She managed to keep listening despite the conscious freeze at the mention of that name. She didn't know this mission was still dealing with the creature... still, that really didn't matter as she got her thoughts going again. She was the rotational Engineer for Aux Craft forays and so it was her job to be here, hence why the doors had responded to her.

He tapped the internal comms. "Doc, get on board. We’re at capacity, and we have a monster to cure."

A golden furred feline shimmered into view, carrying a small medical kit. "I'm here," she reported, "and I have our cure."

Hearing the doctor's reply, Kuzos spoke up. "Then we should be on our way before the tide of fortune turns against us."

Mira set the Eng Repair Satchel against the bulkhead into a nook behind the right side of the shuttle, opposite side from the Doc seat at the forward front left of the ambulance module. peered over the pack to state, "All status Green, special mods reporting stat, power and drive systems at your discretion." She began unpacking the satchel to start connecting the diags equipment, the spare modules and bypass modules, and then found why the pack was so heavy. She whispered, "noice" as she brought out a class X probe fully charged emergency power pack.

Mira looked over to the Doc and motioned for the Doc to sit in the chair designated for the Medical Professional across from her. She then continued to do her job while also making a tap for the emergency power pack to fit into for 'just in case'. And, so as to not be a burden, when she heard the front hatch close, she would activate her life support belt and remove herself from the life support system equation.

Rio arrived with her signature (lucky?) personal med-kit and boarded the shuttle, stopping mid-stride which made her stumble on the step. She reached out to stabilise herself and dropped the med-kit in the effort. "I....." she began, the words she was about to utter, drying in her throat.

"We can't risk so many....." she started again. "I was going to declare you temporarily insane for trying to come with me, Commadore and send you packing so you'd have to stay on board where the crew need you, Sir........... but if you've handed over captaincy, as I thought I just heard on the comm......." her hand went to her earpiece that was still on the open comm system. "I can't do that and now..... and in the same vein, I would also be detached and so unable to authorise that plan. But so many of us?" she stood just looking, expecting a rocket for what she had just admitted.

"Insanity is a matter of perspective, Doctor, and right now, mine is the only one driving this ship," Wilkan replied, his voice devoid of his usual command cadence, replaced instead by a jagged, sharp focus. He could feel the proximity of the Frost River creeping into the shuttle's sensor ghosting; Xurbam was already testing the perimeter. He turned his chair just enough to lock eyes with Rio, his expression a mask of weathered, weary resolve. "If you have the cure, hold onto it. If you have any doubts, bury them. We aren't here to debate the wisdom of the manifest; we’re here to end this." He turned back to the helm, his hands hovering over the engagement thrusters. "Ensign, initiate the final sequence. Doc, take your station. If we make it out of this, I’ll let you debate my mental state for the rest of the voyage. Until then, strap in."

"Opening Bay Doors, Moorings fully released, Impulse at your discretion, Sir," Mira called out from where she was busy performing some special modifications to the power and fields for the Ambulance module.

"Thank you Sir" Rio replied, super-relieved that he hadn't thrown her off the shuttle for her impudence. She couldn't take the Medical position as it was occupied so the CMO sat near to the back and strapped herself in as directed.

The shuttle's comms came to life. "Ensign Nakai in Astrometrics to bridge and Christopher Pike. Lieutenant Oakham-Khen and I managed to further refine the interference breaking algorithm for the sensors, sending it through now."

Tail twice as thick as normal and lashing against the deck in a hint of anxiety, her ears lying flat against her head, Icarus sat as directed. She held on to the box in her paws as if it were a priceless object. "I should prepare the unit, make this ready for release once we contain our patient," she suggested, getting up again to make for the isolation unit. "We can release this agent into the containment area once our patient is aboard."

Mira blushed as she was the one to motion to the Medical Chair for the doc to sit. She replied, "I am sorry for assuming everything was already prepped. Please, enter the unit and do your preparations. I will keep the systems running for you through whatever means necessary." Mira grasped her tail about the nearby structures as she leaned up against the Engineering pack for her 'chair' as she was now an afterthought except for the needs of the mission. She finished with, "I have your back, no matter what, your specially modded ambulance module will complete its mission."

The removed Captain of the Enterprise typed on the panel, his fingers moving across it at speeds that bordered on unnatural, "Shuttle launch sequence confirmed... departing Enterprise in three seconds..."

Rrawran’s claws remained buried in the tactical interface, his breathing ragged as the Christopher Pike tore away from the Enterprise. His ears swiveled, tracking the fading signatures of the runabouts while his eyes remained fixed on the tactical display.

"Captain," Rrawran’s translator barked, cutting through the bridge noise. "I have locked onto the runabouts. The target’s psychic interference is intensifying; he is aware of the shuttle’s approach." He bypassed the primary targeting arrays, opting for manual control to prevent Xurbam from feeding the ship ghost telemetry. "I am configuring the Quantum Torpedoes into a calculated web of proximity bursts," he reported. "As soon as the Pike enters the engagement envelope, I will initiate the cluster burst. It will shatter the runabouts' sensor integrity and drive the target to his knees." He glanced toward Zhora, his focus absolute. "Captain, with the Uhura unresponsive, do we prioritize the destruction of the threat, or the safety of the Nyota Uhura?"

The Captain's eyes tracked the Pike as it sped across the viewer in a blur toward the second Federation ship and hyjacked shuttles with scruitny and cursing Wilkam for putting them on the path.

"Leave Xurbam to Targaryen," she replied to Tactical's initial question. "While the threat still lives none of us are safe including the Uhura." Zhora paced forward, her gaze still affixed to the viewscreen and data trawling across its perimeter. "Ursavi," she called. "Break orbit, put is between the shuttles and the Uhura. If we can't establish communication we're have to make our intentions clear another way."

"I'll keep trying to break the interference," Aidan spoke softly, "still scanning for the exact frequency to drown it out."

Urvasi called out, "Captain, Helm, intervention pattern 3 initiated. Time to position, 18 seconds at 3/4 impulse, mark."

"Captain!" Rrawran’s translator barked, the metallic tone catching a distinct edge of fierce satisfaction as his claws clacked against the Tactical panel, "the Pike's transporter cycle is complete. Sensors confirm they have transported Xurbam aboard the shuttle."

"The localized interference has collapsed," Galatea interjected, her tone smooth and resonant, "The Nyota Uhura is responding, the channel is open."

Urvasi called out, "Captain, Helm, Moving into place, full IFF in broadcast, no offensive posture of ship presented." (IFF - Identify Friend Foe, a signal sent by each Galactic power fleets to know who is friend or foe, the Federations tied to ship/captain/faction identifiers.) Urvasi only hoped the Uhura was listening and watching to realize something greater was happening than the very aggressive runabouts from just a few seconds before.

"Nyota Uhura," the Andorian called striding toward the command dial. "This is Captain Zhora zh'Roothi on board Enterprise. Disenage from the shuttles and maintain safe distance."

Amber was keeping her opinion on Wilkan’s decision to pilot the shuttle to herself, she was learning more and more about him every day and she had no doubt he knew what he was doing.

Rrawran’s tail, which had moments ago relaxed into a satisfied thud, snapped rigid. His ears flattened hard against his skull as the tactical display before him erupted in a cascade of erratic, jagged telemetry. The fierce snarl that bared his long fangs was entirely cut off by the mechanical, monotone output of his translator, creating a jarring contrast between his lupine fury and the flat, synthetic report.

"Captain," the translator barked, the lifeless, robotic cadence utterly failing to capture the urgency of the officer's sudden, violent movements as his claws pounded the interface. "The Pike's power grid is fluctuating wildly - the containment field just dropped! Xurbam is loose aboard the shuttle," the Rorworr's translator struggled to keep up with the fast-paced barks and yips of his native language.

Sharply Zhora turned toward tactical with a burning question on her tongue and sickening feeling developing in her gut - Ash was quicker out of the blocks with sharing the same anxious question the Captain was about to ask.

"Life signs?" the Chief engineer asked, noting that the distortion field had not resumed, as of yet, though this fact did not prevent Ash from sending a shield modulation to tactical that would be more effective at dampening the distortion field effects and, more importantly, redirect any, direct transport, to a transporter containment buffer.

"Biometrics are severely degraded," Rrawran’s claws raced over the console as the flat, monotone voice of the translator droned on, "but I am registering multiple spikes in heart rates." An alarm sounded, "Data incoming indicates a Starfleet weapon signature: Phaser discharge."

"Confirmed," Aidan announced as he listened to the incoming data, "reading four life signs on the Pike, but readings are erratic."

"Acknowledged," Zhora breathed with relief that on face value Wilkam's risky idea had been successful. She wouldn't be entirely reassured until all members had been accounted for and Xurbam had been quelled in a fashion.

The Bridge of the Enterprise remained locked in a tense, expectant silence, the viewscreen capturing the distant, tiny silhouette of the Christopher Pike hanging against the stars. Moments passed by quickly and then the shuttle flipped around and started its journey back toward the Enterprise.

"The Pike has engaged Impulse Engines," the flat, robotic drone of Rrawran's translator barked, contrasting sharply with the sharp, alert lashing of his tail. "They have broken their holding pattern and are executing a sweeping banking maneuver. Vector confirms they are on a direct course back to the Enterprise."

Upon hearing this, Urvasi shifted out of the Enterprise's holding pattern and began shifting into a position to either swing around with shuttle bay 1 or maneuver the other way to bring main phasers to bear.

Galatea turned away from the Communications console, a small smile creeping at the corners of her mouth, "I have the Commodore."

"On screen," Zhora instructed.

On the Enterprise's viewscreen, the image of the shuttle switched to reveal the cramped, shadows-swept interior of the Christopher Pike. The Commodore dominated the visual, the cool reflection of the navigational console highlighting his hardened features. The aft compartment was slightly out of focus, a chaotic tapestry of survival framing the ancient, exhausted weight in the Commodore's eyes as he finally looked toward the pickup. Barely they could make out the away team amid the dim recesses of the medical module. Kuzos stood like a stone sentinel as he assessed the scene. Further back, the distinctive silhouette of Icarus could be seen kneeling on the deck plates, her form draped protectively over a collapsed Doctor Rio. To the far left of the frame, a sudden shower of sparks illuminated Mira’s hands as she tore into a charred bulkhead panel, desperate to stabilize the power grids.

"Pike to Enterprise. The threat has been neutralized. We're returning to Enterprise now so please clear us for docking and have a containment detail meet us, just in case there's any lingering environmental risk. Counselor, I'd also like you to meet us in the Shuttlebay." The image of Rio over his shoulder giving a glimpse into why.

“Understood Sir” Amber nodded rising to her feet to head straight down to the shuttlebay. She could only hope Rio wasn’t seriously injured.

Sora let out a breath she'd been holding ever since the evidence of fighting on the shuttlecraft had come in. "Cleared for automated docking procedure," she announced as her hands flew across her console. "Containment and security details will meet you there. Glad to hear your voice, Commodore."

Urvasi now finished her shift of the Enterprise, bringing Shuttle Bay 1 to be the greeting for the Shuttle Type 20 Christopher Pike.

Ash seemed. non-plussed, by the success of the Commodore's gambit though the probabilities, at the outset, were against success if he had gone alone.

"Thank you all," the Enterprise's Commanding Officer answered from his seat aboard the shuttle. He looked back across space at his XO, "Once we're aboard set course for Deep Space 47. Let's go home."

The Andorian's gaze had roamed the viewer as the Commodore gave his instructions taking in the sight of the occupants trusting both Icarus and Mira to their important tasks and felt relieved they'd volunteering to join him on this wild gamble. She shuddered to think how things may have been if they hadn't been so foolhardy.

"We'll be there before you know it."

"Thanks, Zhora," Wilkan let his hand drift from the navigation console, his fingers absorbing the steady, grounding vibrations of the approaching flagship. "Looking forward to being home. Targaryen out."

The flat, synthetic cadence of Rrawran's translator droned across the Bridge. "Helm, the hijacked runabouts are drifting within our tractor range. I recommend bringing them into the Shuttlebay alongside the Pike. Security teams are ready to sweep their systems for lingering threats."

Urvasi responded, "Tactical, Helm, on it." She checked the aft sensors, targeted the runabouts, and activated two of the multiple aft tractor beam emitters. She verified the lock, then activated auto docking for the two beams. She sounded out, "Tactical, Helm, I have them on auto docking, alert your teams for two minutes... mark."

"Nicely done," zh'Roothi nodded to them both before turning to the engineer: "Ash, have a team ready to receive those shuttles also. Having been pushed that hard they'll be needing some maintenance."

"Understood, Captain." Ash replied, quietly. "With the likely extent of damage and our pending return to DS47 we'll plan on implementing the full suite of upgrades and mods both shuttle are due for." She added, as an aside.

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