No Bush, No Beating

Posted on Fri 17th Jan, 2025 @ 1:03pm by Commander Geraldine "Geri" Severide & Captain Gordon Francis & Commander Heriah Rex & Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Niamh MacAran MD & Sundae

2,192 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble
Location: SB109-Decking Bay 2

-Start-

{Vicinity of SB109}

The Second Star was not under its own power but from an outside perspective things were proceeding according to plan. The stately cruiser flew past its assigned port, the package in tow was soon to be released like a stone on ice to drift into position. Sensors got only a mass reading, interference and lack of signal return made it all but invisible except to the naked eye. The minimal use of chemical thrusters would be detectable, but the IBEX crew trusted the Starbase to have followed instructions to disable scanners in the bay.

Without comment or further action the Second Star found range and hit mid warp to return to their mission. That the dockyard was clear, and traffic suspended for the day due to the incoming Ticonderoga, all lined up with utter veracity. The best secrets hid among the truth. The docking bay doors closed over the IBEX and without a witness it was gone.

{OPS}

As per protocol of any vessel on approach, Starbase 109 sent a docking request form but it was rejected; the vessel was “making do of the secure path” according to the text-based reply and didn't need to dock. Entaaro found that unusual, and flagged it for review by Tactical. Commander Severide had requested more intelligence-based items from him as of late. He hoped it meant she was grooming him for service, or at least the boyish imagined ideals of a spy service.

“Commander Rex? I’ve flagged an entry for you just now, or perhaps Commander Severide, but it’s unusual.”

Heriah did not need to even look at it. She looked at her terminal and the information regarding the approaching vessel. It was not much information. Just a vessel...on approach. "Keep it flagged," she said.

'You know this is most unusual.'

"This is most unusual," she said aloud but to herself. She broached the topic in the meeting and was told that this was going ahead. She did not know much but knew about the situation all the same. "We are under orders to allow this vessel to dock and to not take any scans." She looked at the security readout. "Security forces are in place. No one is allowed to enter or leave the Docking Port."

Rex did not like this. Though the dominating personality in the joined couple, Heriah likewise did not like this. "OPs, use proximity sensors only. Ensure the vessel slides into the Docking Port safely."

Entaaro noticed the ship trailing the Second Star was disguising virtually every signal. From his panel he saw a Rigelian freighter, mounting Federation standard equipment, but his eyes told him it was an early 23rd century Starfleet patrol cutter. The paint was blackened, damage scored the hull, but the Saladin class carried a distinctive look, and no amount of kit bashing or modifying the hull could disguise it.

Orders for Docking Bay 2 were authorized, the same Docking bay just days ago had been victim to a Plasma flash and slagged all interior sensors. The suspicions playing across the Klingons brain were alarming but the reactions of the Senior staff were telling. This was a dark operation, something off books with heavy covering. Entaaro eschewed obfuscation.

“Aye, the… freighter in two will go to Dock. Second Star will continue on without docking… apparently.”

{Docking Bay 2}

In the corridor leading to Docking Bay 2, Captain Francis, Commander Severide, and the Engineering and Medical teams rounded the corner to the entrance of Docking Bay 2. Francis nearly stepped on the tail of a calico cat, the same cat he'd called the base's mascot upon his arrival just a few months ago. He'd seen her several times since in various places, and he remembered specifically stating animals and pets were not allowed in the upper decks. He bent down and scooped her up.

"All right, you can come too," the Captain said. The cat didn't protest. Francis noticed one of the Engineering officers from the relief team suppressing a smile and gave them a dirty look. The smile vanished. Francis adjusted the mysterious feline, putting her against his shoulder. This time, he noticed a white collar with a tag, which must have blended into her fur the first time he saw her. "So your name is Sundae," he said after glancing at the tag. "Well you're not fooling me."

Geri knew the cat was way more than a cat but to say that out loud was not going to happen. Her suspicions were a changeling but knew it was wrong.

Upon their arrival to the docking bay, Francis tapped his comm badge. "Ops, we're in position."

Entaaro announced in reply, “Aye, sir. The… freighter is commencing docking.”

Geri double-checked her settings. No internal sensors were functional.

The distinctive alerts of open space sounded, and the airlock rolled into sequence. The umbilical reached out and took hold of the IBEX, pulling the smaller vessel into a nestled berth, before the doors closed over it.

Bikram was in the overlook and spoke over comes, “Sending in the bots.”

Nine exo-comps passed the security personnel standing on guard and flooded into the bay, five of them linked into a pentaptych, four of them in a quad, to assist in medical aid and ship repair. Little did they know that Exo-comps experience near flawless integration and compound their capabilities when in numbers. Their synchronization was already beginning as they seamlessly uploaded shared experiences. The Pentaptych learned from each other in a second what the Quad had learned over twenty years of living in the wild. And the Quad picked up sophisticated Starfleet programming, something Peggy would have to be careful with lest they lose themselves.

Banshee sliced the door protocols effortlessly, opening the hatch fully. Reggie was deactivated, so only basic system securities were in place. The ship was wrecked; even Zombie agreed it was in no shape to fly. The Command Deck above was where the life forms were cloistered, so they went that way. Nessy had created the humaniform avatar for interacting with humanoids. When they floated through the twisted corridor to see the closed door, it spoke to the group as a handsome Bajoran with silvering hair and a curious choice of eye color.

“To the life forms inside, we are sent by Captain Gordon Francis of Starbase 109 to assist. Please respond.”

The nine bots waited but heard no reply.

Outside the ship Nessy had sent the uploads over Bikrams comm line, he announced to the waiting officers,

"The Docking Bay is safe for you to enter. No Bio-hazards detected, sterilization complete. There are no external apparatus operating. Ship is in total systems shut down. Bay sensors are not recording. Exo Quad is assisting Medical team to interior of vessel."

"Here we go," Francis said, giving the go-ahead to the assembled teams as the Exo-Comps completed their part and the IBEX was safely docked. The large doors opened for the team to enter.

The immediate impression was not of a Starfleet vessel, but the original structure of the Saladin class was evident to one who knew how to find it within the bolted-on accessories. The connector bridge of the Engineering hull and saucer had been removed nearly entirely; custom housing around the nacelle reduced its height profile significantly. Blasted and twisted metal marred the surface at sight, while other portions of the hull seemed to shimmer and avoided resolving into fine details.

Geri led the group, scanning as she went. "There's life signs on board, whatever scanner interference there was just dropped. Bots must have gotten to them."

An incoming hail sounded on Francis' comm badge alone. Geri spoke quickly to answer who... "It's them.”

{IBEX Deck 4 loading bay}

The Exo-Comps had little trouble navigating to the Command Deck. Zombie and Banshee could open any door between the two of them. Peggy advised caution at this last door, sensing an armed phaser, “Halt progress. With no response, Hailing IBEX…”

On the other side of the door, Alex saw the indications of a machine intelligence communicating, he opened the comm with hesitation.

“This is Alex, who am I speaking to?”

His comm warbled before the reply,… ”…quartet of vertiform exo-motor units, along with Starfleet associated pentatptych exo units rated for medical interactions.”

The details of what awaited them had been sketchy but his handlers had never let the secret out of the bag for four hundred years. He knew a Gordon Francis was in charge of this base, and he was supposed to only work with them. Sending maintenance bots though, with wipeable memory, was a nice gesture.

Alex didn't want to expose the crew; he had already given up any future with them, though. So he said, “I’ll come out, speak to the commanding officer only. Gordon Francis. He’s my contact. I do have sick people. Have your medical team ready to assist for atrophy, substance use disorders, muscular therapy, Duke's hand still isn't great, either. We have our own bay. If you can help restore that, we’d prefer not to leave this ship.”

The Pentaptych took the initiative to locate the med bay and source the bots in rebuilding it. They flew off, leaving Nessy and Peggy at the door.

Peggy was not authorized to do much more than navigate and facilitate communication. Zombie had stuck several beacons to illuminate the hallway ahead of the team boarding from SB109. Having no clue how to reply, there was silence.

Alex then tapped his badge, cutting to the quick, “Captain Francis, can we meet on board the station?"

=/\= That's fine," Francis said.

And without fanfare, or spinning lights to parade the moment, a loading bay ramp descended. A human male, dark skin, clean shaven, with close cropped hair and a well worn and stained uniform, greeted them. It was Starfleet-esque, with a separate jacket from the trousers, the same color patterns and even four pips at the collar made it feel almost right. The right shoulder showed a unique artifact, a mission seal. It was a depiction of goats horns in a circular emblem over the UFP banner, altogether creating an image of a first-year Starfleet uniform, with Earth embroidery. The loading ramp at the very bottom was solely intended for emergency low power moments like this, and never saw use as their ship wasn't rated for frequent landings.

His eyes looked over the assembled crew, identifying Gordon Francis as the one holding the... not cat. Alex let himself puzzle on the reasoning for his brain to short circuit, but he just knew that cat wasn't a cat. Hunches like these were one of the reasons he had been recruited for the Ibex.

"Captain Francis, I am Captain for now Alexander Richardson. We have much to discuss. Thank you for sending in robotic technicians; the clean up will be much simpler. If we can avoid contaminating the other crew they can continue to serve on board, but this was my last ride on board. Can we speak in private?"

As if timed to punctuate this point, the ramp retracted into the loading bay.

"That's your cue to leave," Captain Francis whispered to Sundae as he set her down. Sundae meowed and swiftly ran away, disappearing without a trace or anyone noticing, keeping to her own agenda.

Francis stepped forward, hands behind his back, and approached the ramp. "Hello, Captain Richardson. I'm Captain Francis. How about some coffee in my ready room? We can have our private discussion there, if you like."

Alex agreed with a curt nod, "Sounds great; let's site to site." What Captain Francis wasn't ready for was the destination.

The two men disappeared in transporter haze that was nearly instant.

Eudora of the Pentaptych sent a report on the hand belonging to Duke as the two commanding officers met. Bikram looked at his padd. {Duke- Patient is status post surgery for amputation and replacement of (R/L?) hand. Tissue rejection is present in union sites. Advanced infections are present along ulna. Terogenic particles from disruptor technology preventing antibiotics from bloodborne transit. Recommend surgery to replace hand and apply hematocrit therapies.}

Bikram announced it, "Eudora says Duke's hand is still in bad shape; infection spreading up the arm; forwarding scans to infirmary. Recommend site to site, and instituting scanner protocol as per orders. The others can stay on board; treatment is underway."

Lanis tapped his combadge. "Dhuro to infirmary. Prepare for immediate incoming site-to-site transport. Tell Dr. Brown I need him to scrub in and to fire up the EMH as scrub nurse. Bioscans are being transmitted. Clear the deck between the transport bed and OR-1. Avoid all unnecessary contact with the patient. His name is Mr. Duke. I'm on my way." He exited the docking bay at a brisk walk.

Nessy prompted the purple-haired elder Bajoran avatar, "Systems report has irregularities, labeled 28.4g. Require additional data on methods present for folded space. Interface to main computer powered down, hardwire connections severed. Physical scans present a toll listed in report 44.6a. Irregularities listed in X99.2."

Geri surveyed the ship report as long as her arm. What wasn't damaged?

-End-

 

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