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1=2E USS OBERON - Gaining the Citadel
From: Captain LuCypher <LuCypher@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
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Message: 1
From: Captain LuCypher <LuCypher@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Date: Fri Dec 31, 2004 11:28 am
Subject: USS OBERON - Gaining the Citadel
Stardate: 161231.14
Stae-faan watched as the stars on the viewscreen streaked and flashed
into trails, indicating their jump to warp. A complicated situation was
becoming ever more complex, and he was unsure how long he could keep
balancing all of the intangibles against each other before his
situational house of cards collapsed.
"Mr. Elgin," he said, addressing the Oberon's helmsman, "time
to our arrival at the asteroid field?"
"Two hours, 47 minutes, 23 seconds at current speed and heading,
sir," the Lieutenant responded.
"Very well," He turned to his First Officer, Commander Iona
Zinoviev. "You have the conn, Commander," he said as he stood. "I
have a meeting in approximately half an hour with Counselor
Dr'Antorn, and there are a few things I want to review with Dr. Crown
before then."
"Aye, Captain," Iona responded, then moved to take the center
chair.
Stae-faan thought that she seemed a bit distracted, but said nothing.
Given the current circumstances, it was only reasonable. Instead, he
focused his thoughts on other matters as he exited the bridge for
Sick-bay.
- * - * - * -
Stae-faan entered Sick-bay just as Dr. Crown was fini****ng up with a
patient. Some sort of cut or abrasion, it seemed, given the dermal
regenerator in Adam's hand. Stae-faan recognized the young man, a
technician in engineering. He was about to comment on the situation,
but the anger emanating from the technician compelled the Captain to
remain silent.
"There you go, crewman," Dr. Crown said as the man got up from the
biobed. "And while I'm sure you're not in the mood for any
advice, from a purely medical perspective, in your next springball game
on the holodeck, you would do better to simply accept the decision of
the holo-ref instead of fighting over the ruling."
The man's demeanor remained professional, but it was clear he was
still quite put off by whatever situation had brought him here. And as
the doctor had stated, it was just as clear that he was not in the mood
to listen to anyone. "Of course, Doctor," he said, his voice
suggesting an anger just barely kept in check. "Is there anything
else?"
Adam shook his head. "Medically, no. But it is my strong suggestion
that you go directly to your quarters and find something relaxing, -
and non-competitive, to do."
The crewman said nothing, giving little more than a token nod to the
Doctor as he departed.
When the crewman was gone, Stae-faan gave his fellow officer a curious
glance. "That seemed a bit . . . odd, wouldn't you say?"
Adam ran a hand through his blond hair, sighing as he put away the
regenerator. "A little," he agreed, "but what's odder is that
he was number six, I think since the alpha ****ft started. Security has
been busy in Six Forward, the gymnasium, and a few other places on the
****p. For some reason or another, the agitation level is running
unusually high the past few hours."
"Actually, I think it's been building since shortly after we
arrived at the station," Stae-faan answered. "I've sensed
something vaguely wrong with the general 'feel' of the ****p for
some time now."
Adam frowned, then gestured in the direction of his office. "Why
don't we talk."
The two men entered Adam's office, the sounds of Sick-bay cut off as
the doors closed behind them. Adam took a seat by his desk while
Stae-faan occupied the one near to a secondary work station. "Your
thoughts, Doctor?" asked Stae-faan.
Adam glanced out the transparent aluminum windows of his office back
toward Sick-bay, then tapped a console pad, darkening the windows for
privacy. "You've felt it too, then," he said. "Kristopher said
essentially the same thing to me at the start of the ****ft, though I
think he also picked up hints of it before then."
"He is a rather exceptional empath," Stae-faan noted.
Adam nodded. "I've run multiple scans, looking for something out of
the ordinary. Unusual energy signatures, chemical anomolies in the air.
.. . I even went over the bio filters to see if they were functioning
properly. And so far, everything checks out."
"The duty roster had a noticeably higher number of people re****ting
in sick," added Stae-faan, "which may not be simply coincidental. I
wonder- "
<Bridge to Captain.> It was Lt. Elgin's voice, interrupting.
"LuCypher here," Stae-faan replied, tapping his commbadge.
<We're about to have a power disruption, Captain. The trace will show
that it originated in Holodeck 3.>
Stae-faan and Adam looked at each other quizzically. "We're about
to. . . " Adam began. At that moment, the lights flickered, along
with the computer systems in Adam's office. After several seconds,
everything returned to normal.
"Status re****t, Mr. Elgin," Stae-faan ordered.
<All systems are functioning normally, sir. But there is an abnormally
large amount of energy being directed to the holodeck and replicator
systems.>
"Who is currently on Holodeck 3?" the Captain asked. And why, he
thought, is he hearing this from Lt. Elgin, rather than Commander
Zinoviev?
<Communication has been lost with Holodeck 3, sir,> the Helmsman
replied. <The computer indicates that Commanders Zinoviev and Tabak are
currently located there.>
Zinoviev? Stae-faan was about to ask why the First Officer wasn't
still on the Bridge, but Lt. Elgin was already answering that question
before he could even get the words out.
<I'm sorry, sir, but Commander Zinoviev left the bridge about five
minutes after you did.>
Stae-faan frowned. What was going on? "Mr. Elgin. I'm about to
engage a site-to-site beam in from here to Holodeck 3. Do you foresee
any problems?"
<Negative, Captain. My observations of the event indicate you will
arrive safely.>
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll attempt to contact you again after I
arrive and assess the situation. LuCypher out."
"Lt. Elgin seems to be quite the handy officer to have around,"
commented Adam.
"He'll need to be if we're to gain access to the Citadel,"
Stae-faan, answered. "But first, let me see if I can figure out this
latest unexpected twist in our fortunes. Expect to here from me
shortly, Adam."
Stae-faan stepped to the center of the room. "Computer, commence
site-to-site trans****t for me to Holodeck 3. Authorization LuCypher,
pi-argent-omega."
<Authorization code confirmed. Energizing.>
Stae-faan arrived in a room flooded with fla****ng, multi-colored strobe
lights and thunderous music. A crowd of holographic people surrounded
him, all facing in the direction of an elaborate stage and runway. He
winced as he attempted to get his bearings, his own song rising to
protect him from the visual and auditory onslaught of the program. A
cheer went up from the crowd, and Stae-faan turned to face the runway,
his eyes widening with surprise as what he saw.
Striding down the elevated aisle was none other than Yolanda Tabak,
wearing a ****mmering gold and silver Dupioni silk gown with a plunging
neckline. A matching pair of 8-cm spike heels adorned her feet while
glittering Rigelian star-gems flashed from her necklace and earrings.
As she reached the end of the runway, she twirled and laughed,
playfully teasing the audience before striding back the way she'd
come.
And as if that weren't enough of a surprise, next in line was Iona
Zinoviev, wearing a rose taffeta dress that was equally luxurious in
design, with ruby earrings, necklace, and bracelets. The holographic
crowd cheered wildly, with many of the simulated onlookers crowding the
runway, using a variety of recording devices to capture the moment.
>From all appearances, the two women were having the time of their
lives.
"Computer, end- " Stae-faan caught himself just in time. The
dresses were also holographs, he realized. "Computer, freeze
program," he amended.
Nothing changed.
"Computer, freeze program. Authorization, LuCypher, pi-argent-omega,
priority one."
The show came to an abrupt halt, Iona stumbling as her dress lost a
substantial measure of its flexibility. The two ladies paused,
confused, before they noticed the Captain making his way through the
transfixed bodies of the holographic crowd.
"Captain!" Yolanda shouted. "How wonderful of you to come!" She
paused, struggling with her outfit. "Computer, she said, "resume
normal properties for participant outfits." She let out a small sigh
as the dress regained its flexibility, then moved quickly to meet the
Captain at the end of the runway. "I'll have to adjust the settings
for the freeze program function," she said. "And the
'end-program' function as well, I imagine," she said with a
giggle.
Stae-faan looked at her with a calm, even stare. "Yolanda, if you
would care to explain."
"Oh, Stae-faan. Iona and I had the most marvelous idea this
morning," the head of Operations exclaimed. "With our Starfleet
careers all but over, we realized what an op****tunity we had to be two
of the Federation's top fa****on designers and models. We have both
the looks and the brains to produce the absolute best fa****on dresses
and accessories since Bistrati."
"We'll be famous, Captain," Iona added, joining the discussion.
"And what about our current situation?" asked Stae-faan.
The two ladies paused. "Oh, that. Right. Well, I'm not really sure
we'll have time to fit that in. . ."
"I see," Stae-faan replied, doing his best to keep his growing
concerns about his two officers to himself. "Could you tell me
exactly how and when this revelation came to you?" he asked instead.
"As I said before, it was this morning. We were having breakfast at
Lia's quarters before our ****ft started, and Lia was showing off a
fancy jewelry box that she'd gotten from Query, who picked it up at
the station a couple days ago. Before we knew it, the idea just caught
hold and . . . took off!"
"Interesting. And where is this box now?" asked the Captain.
Iona clapped her hands together. "It just so happens I have it right
here." She walked to the "back-stage" area, emerging a
half-minute later with the box. "Here, why don't you take a look at
it yourself."
Stae-faan accepted the box gingerly, examining it not only visually,
but also with his song.
He felt it at once. A peculiar emanation-not energy, but rather
something physical-and invisible. He relaxed, breathing deeply, his
song growing in strength and purpose, while his eyes flickered with a
pale, violet light.
It's a machine. The artificial nature of the device was clear to him.
To all visible appearances it was nothing more than a jewel box, but on
a level too small to be seen, he could sense the device at work,
producing and releasing some sort of s****e; s****es that were entering
his system before being rendered inert by the power of his maerel. He
focused his song, seeking to learn more. But the particles were
synthetic. Unliving things which, by their nature, limited his ability
to understand them.
Still, he was more than able to understand that whatever these
particles were, they were having an undesirable influence on his crew.
That aspect, at least, he was confident he could correct.
He ****fted the box to his right hand, then reached up to Yolanda with
his left. "That's a marvelous bracelet you're wearing," he
said.
"I designed it myself just this morning," said Yolanda, and in a
natural response, offered her hand so that Stae-faan might observe her
creation more closely.
Stae-faan took her hand in a friendly, yet firm grip, the light in his
eyes growing stronger.
"Stae-faan," Yolanda whispered, her thoughts and perceptions
****fting and changing at Stae-faan's touch. A peculiar awareness
filled her then, of the artificiality of the holodeck images, the
unswerving strength of Stae-faan's presence, and of the strangeness
of her recent thoughts and behavior. For an instant, she felt a dozen
conflicting emotions, regrets and joys and longings for what-ifs and
might-have-beens. And then the moment passed and everything was back to
normal.
"I . . .I'm sorry, Captain," she said, falteringly. "I really
don't know what came over me."
Iona frowned, staring at her two friends. "Did I miss something?"
"If I might see your bracelet design," Stae-faan responded, and his
hand reached out once more . . .
- * - * - * -
Sickbay:
Adam stared at the computer display, shaking his head and letting out a
soft whistle. "It's absolutely incredible," he murmured.
"Nanotechnology on a level I've never seen. The s****es this box
produces are totally undetectable by the bio-filters or normal scans.
It's ingenious."
Query's box was sitting behind a level 4 forcefield, undergoing an
intense analysis by multiple medical and engineering scanners.
"Can you devise a counter-agent?" Stae-faan wanted to know. He had
spent the better part of the last hour tracking down key personnel,
using his =E9chant=E9 healing talents to clear those infected from the
influence of the s****es. But there was no practical way for him to
utilize his abilities ****p-wide. The Oberon was simply too big.
"Without the box, I'd have my doubts," Adam replied. "But
despite its resistance to traditional scans, now that we know what
we're looking for, I'm confident I can synthesize an airborne agent
to neutralize its effects. I should know more within the hour." He
took a moment to key in some new commands into the medical scanner.
"How do you suppose Query got this thing in the first place?"
"I'm uncertain. But I am inclined to believe it wasn't by
accident."
Adam turned. "No? Then, given that we know the away team has been
infected, do you think we might do better to turn back. I mean, the
Citadel isn't going anywhere, is it?"
"You indicated that the s****es lowered inhibitions in regards to
certain types of behavior, but that the influence was not sufficient to
override conscious behavioral control."
"For a Starfleet-trained officer, they could make things difficult,
but given that both Commander Neile and Lt. Anton apparently have been
infected for days with no indications that they were unable to perform
their duties, I suspect that they should still be able to cope. And
based on our monitoring records of Lt. Elbrun, he's never been near
the box or anyone associated with it, so he should be safe. Still, why
shouldn't we turn back?"
"My concern is that whoever has attempted this sabotage might come up
with something more . . . troublesome, should they realize that we have
overcome this initial obstacle. If it is your medical opinion that
Commander Neile and the others will still be able to carry out their
assignment despite this infection, then I think we need to proceed as
originally planned.
Reluctantly, Adam agreed. "Monitoring Bolsand and seeing to whom or
what he might lead them? Yes, they should be able to handle it. What do
you think our contact is up to that requires surveillance, if I might
ask?"
Stae-faan hesitated a moment before he spoke. "More and more, I find
myself arriving at the conclusion that the man calling himself
'Bolsand' is indeed, the real Bolsand. Which, if true," he
continued as Adam stared at him in surprise, "suggests to me that the
real Ochari is quite possibly somewhere nearby. And if that is also
true, then it would be prudent, I think, to know as much as we can
about the two of them, including the technology they might have at
their disposal, and what the real reason is behind the assistance we
have received thus far."
The Doctor let out a cynical grunt. "Why is it nothing is ever
easy?"
Stae-faan smiled. "I have no idea. Please let me know the moment
you've come up with an antidote to this particular problem,"
Stae-faan said, gesturing toward the box. "We'll remain at yellow
alert, and hold off proceeding into the asteroid field until then."
"And what will you be doing in the meantime?" the Doctor queried.
"Counselor Dr'Antorn an I will be working to produce a functional
copy of the Song of Silence."
"And I thought my job was difficult," Adam quipped. "Good
luck."
- * - * - * -
Kristopher listened to the music, following the notes, matching them to
what he remembered, and where he doubted, to what he felt was right.
The copy of the Song of Silence provided to them by Bolsand was good,
but not exactly right. It's problem, Kristopher realized, was in its
precision. Each note had been exactly measured, the harmonics perfectly
equalized. On his own, he doubted he would have recognized that
perfection as a drawback. But he was aided by two potent forces. The
first was an unusual quartz crystal, given to him by the Captain.
Initially, he wasn't certain what to make of it, but the instant he
took hold of it, its usefulness became clear. Somehow, the crystal held
the psychic insights of the Oberon's first Captain, Lexia Tremaine;
insights that allowed him to understand and utilize his own empathic
talents to their fullest extent.
The other force was Captain LuCypher's enigmatic talents, which
seemed almost like a universal key for him, unlocking perceptions and
understandings he would never have known existed. He had no idea
exactly what LuCypher's ability was. It was not a psychic phenomenon,
that much he could tell. But there was something. . . something that
assisted his empathic skills but slipped away quicksilver-like whenever
he tried to focus on it. Though, for brief moments when his mind was
occupied with the task at hand, he thought he heard music-a music
that dwarfed the Song of Silence in its complexity and purity. But when
he ****fted his attention to it, it vanished into the ether, still
present, but somehow hidden. Some day, Kristopher hoped for the chance
to learn more about the real story of Captain LuCypher. Until then, he
had work to do.
His abilities alive to their maximum potential, Kristopher set about
the job of producing a musical score that could be played by the
musicians whom he and the Captain had recruited from the Oberon's
crew. Both men knew that a computer simulation would not suffice;
it's perfection would be its undoing. What they needed would be a
recording of a real performance. One in which the variations inherent
in the use of actual instruments could be heard.
Within the span of an hour the work was done. Twenty minutes beyond
that, and the musicians were gathered in Holodeck 1. Kristopher would
be the conductor. As a Betazoid inherently familiar with the song, he
was the person best qualified to guide the performance. His empathic
skills, magnified through the crystal and the Captain, would allow them
to produce a focused, unified performance.
Captain LuCypher would take the first and last solo parts on the
violin. His ward, Damon, the central solo on the flute. Percussion,
woodwinds, strings, brass, and a few instruments that didn't really
fit the standard terran categories would do the rest. He took a moment
to call out with his empathy, silently gaining the attention of all of
the performers. When they were ready, he lifted his baton, and began.
Kristopher could only grin when he realized they had gotten it
perfectly on the very first try. . .
- * - * - * -
Bridge:
Stae-faan watched the viewscreen as the asteroid field came into view.
Without a doubt, it was the most complex such system he had ever
encountered. "Scans, Commander Tabak."
"The asteroids are composed mainly of meteoric iron," the
Operations Officer replied, "but contain notable amounts of Trinium
and Tritanium. The combination makes them likely to scatter phaser
fire. Disruptors and photon torpedoes would also be minimally
effective. Quantum torpedoes might be able to blast through them, but
the size and complexity of the asteroid field would deplete our
stockpile before we could reach the indicated coordinates. If you were
looking for a weapon-based solution, I'd recommend a Romulan plasma
torpedo or a Bosun-wave cannon."
"I don't believe we have either of those options available,"
Stae-faan remarked. "However . . ." He tapped the keypad on his
command chair. "Bridge to Engineering."
<Engineering. Crewman F'tok here, sir.>
"Mr. F'tok, please bring the cloaking device online. We are about
to proceed through the asteroid field."
<Understood, sir.> There was a brief pause. <The cloak is now online.>
"All readings appear normal, Captain," Yolanda said from her
position. "In theory, we are both cloaked and ready to 'phase'
through solid matter."
"In theory?" asked Commander Zinoviev, a slight note of
apprehension in her voice.
"Well, we've not been able to do an actual field test," Yolanda
noted.
"And what if we stroll into that asteroid field and it doesn't
work?" Iona continued.
"Then Mr. Elgin will, hopefully, let us know before then, and steer
us clear," Stae-faan interjected. He looked to the Kriss L'Ar
helmsman for assurance.
"I perceive nothing untoward in the ****p's immediate future,
Captain," the Lieutenant proclaimed. "In fact, the passage seems to
be most . . . interesting."
"Then proceed, Mr. Elgin. One-quarter impulse."
The Oberon moved foward, the great star****p now invisible, its passage
through the asteroid field hinted at only by the slight ****mmering
distortion as its mass passed through the ****fting, rocky debris field.
On the Bridge, it was all the crew could do to keep from wincing as
they watched the giant boulders, some kilometers across, fill the
viewscreen, before vani****ng into a peculiar, dark brownish-grey image
which reflected the ****p's sensors shortcomings in interpreting this
new situation, clearing again when they had emerged on the other side.
Approximately five minutes after they had entered the field, Lt. Elgin
brought them up alongside an asteroid roughly twice the size of a
Federation starbase. On the viewscreen was the unmistakable image of a
set of docking bay doors more than large enough to accommodate the
Oberon.
"I've matched our velocity and rotation to the base, Captain,"
Elgin stated. "We are currently clear of all asteroid material for
the next 35 minutes."
"Very nice work, people," Stae-faan said. "Cloaking field off."
"Aye, Captain," Yolanda responded. "Cloak off."
"That's one hurdle down and one more to go," said Iona.
"One more that we know of," Yolanda ammended.
"Well, let's see how we fare at that," said Stae-faan. He turned
to his left. "Counselor Dr'Antorn, if you would care to do the
honors."
The Counselor responded with a slight smile. "Commander Tabak, please
bring up and broadcast 'SOS-1' from the databanks."
Yolanda grinned as she keyed in the commands. "File uploaded.
Commencing broadcast."
The crew watched and waited, listening to the song as it played
through. When the last note finished, they increased their scrutiny of
the viewscreen, looking for any hint of change.
Nothing.
"Congratulations, Counselor," Lt. Elgin stated enthusiastically.
For an instant, the Counselor was confused, then she saw the docking
bay doors illuminate and begin to open. "Oh, of course," she
murmured, realizing that the Helmsman was already aware of their
success.
"Readings, Commander Tabak," Stae-faan requested after the doors
were fully open.
"No indications of any hostile systems or energies," the Commander
replied. "We seem clear to enter."
"Very well then. Lieutenant Elgin, take us inside."
"Aye, Captain."
Once more, the Oberon moved forward, entering the Citadel in the Stars
.. . .
Respectfully submitted,
Captain Stae-faan LuCypher
Commanding Officer
USS OBERON
NCC-0111
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