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1. USS OBERON: The Return, Part 2
From: "Brian H Davidson" <briandavidson@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
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Message: 1
Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2005 22:29:52 -0400
From: "Brian H Davidson" <briandavidson@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: USS OBERON: The Return, Part 2
Scene: A Medical office on Betazed
"Well I can't claim to understand it," said Dr. Brielle
****noome, "but I can't find any sign of the damage. It's like the
accident never happened."
Dr. Hower Duill just nodded. He had expected as much, had even
run some tests himself. But Brielle was the expert, and his case
physician, so he had come to her for verification. And now, as he sat
on an examining table in one of her rooms at the Institute for
Psychic Research on Betazed, his findings were confirmed. The Nexus
had restored not just his senses, but his physical brain as well.
"I can't explain it either," he told her, "but I was just
suddenly able to sense her, and that made it possible for us to
escape." He smiled across the room at his bride and rejoiced anew
that she had returned his love. Mala Olvaerr, green Orion former
First Officer of the USS PEGASUS, smiled back at him and winked.
The PEGASUS had been where the two had met and served together
for several years. They were actually the second couple from that
****p's command staff to marry. Her former Captain and Counselor had
wed the year before. Despite his run-ins with both of them, Hower
missed Pierce and Samantha Harding quite more than he had expected
to. Apparently he had become closer to his fellow officers than he
had allowed himself to realize. And not just those three either...
Dana Mirek, the Antosian who had been Exec before Mala; Avi Reckage,
the Israeli OPS officer and his successor, Vaiko; Query Neile, the
last of several CEOs the Peggy had run through; Mustang Reilly and
Lia Anton, the last two Security Chiefs; even the quirky Science
Officer, Tyler Elbrun... all of these he missed, and more.
He knew that Mala missed them too, and even more, missed being
in space, aboard a Star****p. They had both taken extended leaves in
order to wed and spend their honeymoon here on Betazed, his
homeworld. As wonderful as it had been, the time had nearly come for
them to don their Starfleet uniforms again and return to active duty.
They had requested married billets, but knew that the vagaries of
service might send them to different postings. Still, Admiral
Sullivan's office had been pretty good about that sort of thing in
the past. Hower thought that their odds were reasonably good.
Unfortunately they would not be returnng to the PEGASUS. Word
had it that she had been lost, but then, just weeks ago, re****ts of
her discovery at Wolf 359 had surfaced. She was now under tow back to
Earth, too badly damaged to be repaired. Although Hower had not
served long with Captain Ross, he was glad to hear that she had
miraculously survived. Too many of their ****pmates had not.
He returned his attention to the pretty, dark-haired Dr.
****noome. She was rather young to be holding such an exalted post as
Head of this Institute, but she had been hand-picked by no less of a
personage than Ambassador D'raan Andrazhn, head of Betazed's Second
House and one of the most powerful telepaths ever on record. If
Andrazhn wanted her, there had to be good reason. It was also tacitly
understood that Starfleet Medical approved. "I don't know if we will
ever be able to understand just what the Nexus is and what it is
capable of," he pondered, "but I know that I'm glad to be able to
live like a real Betazoid now."
Duill had lost nearly all of his psychic ability in a flyer
accident in his early teens, due to irreperable brain damage. The
same accident had also cost him his arm and leg, now replaced with
synthetic limbs. He was lucky not to have lost more than that, but
the damage had been very selective and quite minimal. The much
greater damage was done to his emotional well-being. Hower had grown
to resent his fellow Betazoids, not so much for their mental
capabilities, but for their imagined pity of him. Now that his
empathy and telepathy were restored, he had found his feelings to be
unjustified. In fact, his family was quite proud of him, and many
admired his resolve and drive to become a top-notch surgeon.
Which he had done. He was one of Starfleet's top combat
surgeons, known for his fine medical judgement in pressure
situations. Also specializing in xenomedicine, he had found his
skills to be very much in demand. He sometimes suspected that part of
his success was due to a certain low level awareness, a physical
empathy below the level of consciousness, which the accident had left
him. But it really didn't matter any more.
"So you are completely comfortable now with your psychic
abilities," Brielle asked, walking slowly across the room toward the
door. "No pain, discomfort?"
"None at all," he replied. "Everything seems to be working just
fine." Hower's latest scores had rated him above average on empathy,
but somewhat below on telepathy, except with Mala. There was a strong
bond between the two, forged within the Nexus. Also, he showed a
small aptitude for prescience, a rare but not unheard-of ability in
Betazoids. He had no talent whatsoever for telekinesis or any of the
other common abilities.
"That's very good," Brielle said. "But how about your own
emotional state? Any residual resentment or bitterness?"
"Not at all. Once I returned here and was able to read my family
and friends, I could see right away that I had been totally wrong
about what they were feeling. I was a fool, but in a way, I think it
might have helped me."
Brielle smiled at that. She, a powerful empath in her own right,
could sense exactly what he meant. His fiercely competetive nature
had sprung from that misconception. He wanted to prove to everyone
that he didn't need to have Esper powers to excel at his chosen
profession, that they had no cause to pity him.
Now, however, came the hard part. She looked down as she spoke
again, afraid to meet his eyes directly. "That's very good, Hower,
very good indeed. Unfortunately, the Nexus wasn't able to fix
everything, for whatever reason."
Mala frowned from where she sat, not sure where Dr. ****noome was
headed with this. Light quickkly dawned, however, as Hower responded
to her statement. His voice became flat and cold, like it used to
aboard the PEGASUS back when he was angry about something. Which had
been fairly often.
"So. I'm still positive for Mellior's. I suspected as much, but
to be honest, I was afraid to test for it myself."
Briele could only nod, eyes still averted. She hated not being
able to help him, but no cure for Mellior's Syndrome had yet been
discovered, and the prospectus was dark. Even some of the more
radical genetic manipulations had been unsuccessful in reversing the
disease. The one good thing was that Mellior's was exceptionally
rare, and restricted to Betazoids only. Perhaps one in a hundred
million inherited it, and most of those didn't have serious problems
as a result. Only those who lost limbs or had significant organ
damage, like Hower, were significantly affected.
What Mellior's did was pretty simple, really. It slowed to a
crawl the process of cell division, causing the natural healing
processes of the body to grind nearly to a halt. While it did not
impair the chemical processes, the physical ones were nearly all
affected. As long as the afflicted didn't sustain any major wounds,
he could live a mostly normal life. But there were two major side
effects, both of which caused her patient considerable grief.
First, he was sterile. His body did not produce many gametes,
and those it did were usually non-viable. It did not entirely prevent
him from siring offspring, but it was impossible without considerable
help from geneticists and bio-engineers. It was, for Hower, a vicious
thorn in the rose of his marriage to Mala.
The second side effect was tissue rejection. His body would not
accept any sort of graft or accelerated cloniform regeneration. Even
limbs cloned from his own cells would be rejected, and thus, the
artifical limbs. He seemed to be dealing well with those, however.
The problem was that sooner or later, someone in Starfleet would find
out about his condition, and that could end his career. Mellior's was
one of several conditions that rendered a Betazoid unfit for space
service. The only reason Hower had made it into Starfleet was his
political connections, which had allowed him to keep his condition
hidden.
"Im truly sorry, Hower," she murmurred, unable to speak any
louder. "I wish there was something, anything, I could do, but..."
"Not your fault, Brielle," he replied gruffly. "We can only hope
that someone will develop an effective treatment some day."
Before the awkward moment could extend any further, there came a
knock at the door. A nurse pushed the door open a bit and stuck his
head inside. "Dr. ****noome? If you're finished, there are some people
here to see your patient. Some... im****tant... people."
Brielle turned to acknowledge the nurse, and cast out a tendril
of inquiry toward the waiting room. What she sensed made her gasp
involuntarily. Im****tant indeed, and that might even be an
understatement.
"Yes, of course," she said. "Hower, you're free to go, just be
sure to sign out at the main desk. I'd like to see you again in a
month."
When Hower and Mala emerged into the waiting area, four men and
one woman were seated there. All rose as they entered. The woman came
ru****ng toward him and threw herself into his arms. Blonde and curly
as he was, Lynna Duill Quaice was four years younger than her
brother, and the only person he loved nearly as much as Mala. He had
never lost his love for her, the one person who had always sup****ted
and admired him through all of his trials.
"Lynna! What's wrong? Why are you here?" Hower had sensed that
his sister was agitated about something, but was too surprised to
look deeper right away. He looked to her companions and stiffened,
realizing that something very serious was going on. The four men
were all known to him although not all in person: three Betazoids and
a Terran. The latter was Lynna's husband, his brother-in-law, Dalen
Quaice IV, Surgeon General of the Federation. It was with his help
that Hower had circumvented the rules and gotten himself into
Starfleet.
One of the other men wore Starfleet standard issue reds, with
Captain's pips on his collar. He was Starfleet's sector commander for
Betazed, Tarik Uberth. If he were here, then it had to be about his
and Mala's duty status. But it was the other two men who held his
attention. Between the two they exuded such a presence that it was
difficult to focus on anything else. No one on the planet could fail
to recognize the two most influential men in Betazed's government,
the heads of the First and Second of the Great Houses, Chairman and
Advocate of the Betazoid Council, as well as extremely powerful
psionically... he stared at Chairman B'shar Kola and Ambassador
D'raan Andrazhn.
"Commander Duill, Commander Olvaerr," Uberth spoke first. "A
pleasure to see you again. Ambassador Andrazhn has passed on to me a
request for special assignment for you both. It is of a secret
nature, and of course, voluntary. I can say no more at this point,
but I'll be in the next room if you need me. If you'll excuse me
then, Chairman, Ambassador, Doctor, Madam?" He nodded to each
individual in turn before spinning on his heel and striding out of
the waiting room.
"Secret?" Mala echoed. "You want us for a secret mission? But
are we secure here?"
"Not to worry, Commander," the Chairman replied, smiling. "If
we're not safe in my esteemed colleague's home, then where on Betazed
could we be?" His words reminded Hower and Mala both that the
Institute occupied one wing of Ambassador Andrazhn's ancestral manor,
Shalimar. What neither of them knew, however, was that D'raan's other
residence, the "cottage" that had once stood across the lake from
here, had been destroyed by underlings of one Colin MacArthur, two
years earlier. No man, no matter how powerful or influential, was
enirely safe from the Federation's top covert operative. That post
had gone to another now, since MacArthur's capture by the USS OBERON
crew, but the memory of his many atrocities in the name of Federation
security still lingered. Andrazhn had been targeted because of his
relation****p to Lexia Tremaine, the former commander of the OBERON.
As both her father and her greatest political sup****ter, he had been
a significant impediment to MacArthur's plots against her.
"Indeed," the Ambassador agreed, "my security precautions are
most stringent. But I must make one correction to Captain Uberth's
statements. This request does not originate with me. However he does
not know this, nor will he be told. I am merely relaying the
request." He waited for both of them to indicate acknowledgement
before continuing. "As you my have heard, last week the USS OBERON
vanished and was declared rogue. Certain people want her found, and
returned safely, and have asked for your assistance. Now, if you are
not interested, indicate so now, and we shall speak no more of it.
Captain Uberth will give you your new assignments instead. If,
however, you wish to help, you must commit to it now, before hearing
any more. Once I have told you, you can not be permitted to leave
Betazed with this information. Do you understand?"
"Yes, of course," Mala replied first, having had first-hand
experience with top secret information before. She and Samantha
Hennessey-Harding had lamented the necessity for it many times. Their
former CO, in fact, had been a great advocate of aboli****ng such
secrets, but had been compelled to honor them more than once. Mala
turned to look her husband in the eyes. "Query and Tyler are on the
OBERON, aren't they?"
Hower nodded. "Yes, that's what I had heard, and Lia as well.
They had transferred there after the PEGASUS..." he couldn't finish.
The demise of their ****p and home had hurt them both deeply. It was
miraculous that so many of her crew had managed to escape, leaving
behind only a few officers from the two ****ps, including Samantha's
replacement at CO, who had, in accordance with ancient naval
tradition, gone down with her ****p. Or at least tried. Now that the
PEGASUS had been found, with Ross aboard, the miracle was twofold.
"Yes," they said in unison, "we want to help!"
A few hours later, they were standing on the bridge of the USS
AGATHA CHRISTIE, speaking with Admiral Jack Sullivan and Captain
Jordan Chao. Hower was to serve as Chief Surgeon and co-CMO on this
mission, along with Dr. Taka**** Oyuki from SSV1. Mala, it seemed, was
wanted as a pilot, and to assist in ****p's Operations; her
counterpart, Commander T'Mara, would handle Mission OPS. Since Mala
had come through OPS and Flight Control before ascending to command,
this was a natural fit for her. The small ****p was very quick and
powerful, and she was thrilled to be at the helm of such a.... well,
predator was the first word that came to her mind.
"Captain Chao is in command of this ****p," Sullivan was saying,
"and his orders regarding her operation are to be followed without
question. My concern is with the mission only, and I've got enough to
worry about with that. In fact, I have some research I need to get
back to, so I will leave you in his capable hands for introductions
and details of your duties. Thank you for joining us. If we succeed,
your efforts will not go unrewarded."
The Admiral nodded and headed for the turbolift, leaving Jordan
to fill them in. He took them around the Bridge and introduced them
to their fellow officers. At the Science station was a tall, lanky
red-skinned Edoan Ensign, whose name was given as Rolex. Security was
manned by a human Lieutenant who might have been the largest man
either of them had ever seen. Jamie Screaming Crow was well over
seven feet tall and impressively muscled, but his imposing stature
was belied by his easygoing smile and manner. He was here because he
had served on the OBERON and OLYMPIC with many of the people they
were seeking. Nearly as large but much more gruff was the First
Officer, Commander Torphek. He was a Zaldan, a race known for their
intolerance of polite social lies. Honesty truly was the best policy
when dealing with Zaldans. He had served under Sullivan in several
billets, and was trusted implicitly by the Admiral.
Not on the Bridge at present were the Chief Engineer, Lt.
Randall del Fiero, and LtCmdr. Elizabeth Belmont, billeted as
Counselor but really there for her expertise as a First Contact
Specialist. Hower and Mala were sure they would meet these others
soon enough in the course of their duties.
Only minutes after they had been brought aboard, the ****p was
underway, headed for a certain space station of questionable repute,
whose location had been revealed by Ambassador Andrazhn.
-Brian
NRPG: Special thanks to Susan for Mala, as well as those mentioned
before, and a tip of the hat to Josh, Matt, Scott, Bernadette,
Lynette, April and Gwen for their little blasts from the past. As for
the rest, they're all mine, PCs or major NPCs from days gone by.
Bio-files or bio-sketches are available for all upon request. Oh, and
you can expect a few more yet to put in an appearance. 8)
Also, as to the timing in refernce to the PEGASUS... Although Matt
has written what eventually becomes of her, I have to infer that not
all of that has yet happened. Despite real life taking two years or
more, our OBERON timeline has advanced only a few weeks. So, to
clarify: in the OBERON timeline, the wreckage of the PEGASUS was
found at Wolf 359 only a couple of weeks ago. Captain Ross and Lt.
Dacey are rescued, along with the other survivors, but have not yet
made contact with anyone. I'll be working this in to the story as we
go on from here. Anyone else may feel free to work with it as well.
SrAdm. Jack Sullivan Capt. Jordan Chao
Cmdr. Dr. Hower Duill Cmdr. T'mara
Cmdr. Torphek LtCmdr. Liz Belmont
Lt. Randy del Fiero Esn. Rolex
Ambassador D'raan Andrazhn Chairman B'shar Kola
Dr. Brielle ****noome Lt.jg Jamie Screaming Crow
Dr. Dalen Quaice IV Lynna Duill Quaice
Capt. Tarik Uberth
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