CHAPTER 5: Enemy Mine (Part 1)

The USS Polaris hung motionless. Within, her equipment, on low power continued to function, but there was no one to tend to it. The powerful little escort was a prisoner, and her crew nowhere to be found....

Far away her captain, Oseno Jureth, felt a terrible throbbing in his head and groaned out loud. Beneath him he felt a cold hard surface, not the one he remembered and his still slightly disoriented brain realized that he was not where he was supposed to be. The Bajoran struggled to open his eyes trying to will his body to obey his commands, but it wasn't ready to listen just yet. Then he heard a voice, a familiar one.

"Captain, can you hear me Sir?"

Jureth knew that voice "T....T'lana?" he practically croaked, all sense of his normal confidence gone from his voice.

"Yes Sir, do not attempt to move too fast Sir."

"Wh-Where?"

"I do not know, we are no longer on the ship. We appear to be in a crude prison."

"who?"

"I do not know Sir."

Finally Oseno managed to open his eyes and focused on the Vulcan woman who was kneeling near him. Slowly, his vision began to clear until he could make out the features on her face.

"Help me sit up Lieutenant."

T'Lana slowly guided Jureth into a seated position and Jureth glanced around him where he could see other members of his crew still unconscious around the small cell.

"The others?"

"They are alive Captain, but like you were still unconscious when I myself awoke."

"What can you tell me about our surroundings?"

"It appears to be a prison block, fashioned out of some type of rock. Scoring on the rocks would indicate they were cut using heavy disruptor fire. I suspect the entire crew is here though my field of view is limited. Our combadges are gone, and I would surmise that whomever has us also has the ship."

Jureth nodded slowly "any sign of guards, or surveillance?"

"No Sir, but it is not logical to conclude that someone would imprison us here and leave us unguarded and unwatched. I would surmise that we are being both watched and listened to."

"Ugh..." Jureth rubbed the temples of his head "HELLO!" he called out "IS ANYONE OUT THERE?"

"As if waiting for the call, there was a loud clanging noise on the other side and then a heavy grating noise as the thick metal door swung open. Blinding lights came up to their faces and several tall, massive silhouettes could be glimpsed coming in with a leathery and metallic creaking and heavy-booted footsteps. Oseno heard his cellmates being roughly pushed against the walls as he himself was seized by hard, powerful hands on each side and brutally shoved by something hard in his back that felt like a rifle butt. It all happened so fast that he realized that he was out of the cell only when he heard the big door clang shut behind him over the protests of his friends and then the banging of a heavy metal bar being dropped back in large brackets afixed into the very stone of the wall.

There was barely any light at all around him as he was unceremoniously dragged between two taller forms that held him in vise-like grips while a metallic point in the small of his back forced him to walk forward. For a moment, all he could see was what looked like horned helmets, spiked armor and short, thick axe-like weapons that looked vaguely familiar. His abductors spoke no word, barely making any noise with their long, deep breaths over the heavy, perfectly synchronized pounding of their boots on the stone floor of the narrow tunnel they followed.

Then they came to an abrupt stop as the corridor suddenly ended with no visible exit but for an open trapdoor in the ceiling. Iron rungs planted directly in the rock face glinted in the dim light but his two captors holding him simply lifted him up to waiting hands above. As his first escort could be heard clambering up the ladder behind him, the Bajoran was roughly forced to move forward again in the same manner as before, this time between another pair of imposing silhouettes. But now, his eyesight was getting accustomed to the low illumination and he could discern their scally hands, gleaming fangs in flat faces and small, dark, reddish, unblinking  eyes. 

A door opened before him and sudden brightness forcing him to close his eyes painfully as he was shoved into it. When his blurred sight could once again support the harsh illumination, he realized that he was now being marched into a metallic corridor quite familiar to him. It was the corridor of a starship; a Federation starship.

The Polaris.

A final push almost sent him sprawling in front of his own command chair. There was seated an armor-clad form, much taller and wider than he was, it's grey flat and wide face covered with scales and spines. There was no mistaking now who their abductors were.

They were Jem'Hadar.

Jureth's head still ached as he processed the situation, Jem'Hadar soldiers, some of the most fiercesome warriors in the galaxy had taken his crew and his ship prisoner. Why? To what end? Was the Dominion making a move to renew its assault on the Federation? Jureth remembered that he himself had raised the question as to whether or not anyone was watching the Dominion during the Azimuth Horizon crisis, but all intelligence reports suggested that Dominion activity was at no higher a level than it had been in the last decade or so. Perhaps they were True Way, but taking a Federation starship and crew prisoner was bold even for the militant splinter group. He decided his best course of action was simply to ask...

"Jem'Hadar," Jureth said attempting to appear as confused as possible,  as he began to stand "What is going on here? Why are you aboard my ship and why have you taken us prisoner?"

Now that he had time to catch his breath and look around a bit, Oseno then noticed that the main viewer was operational; and from it's vista, he discovered that the Polaris was berthed into a colossal rock cavity. There were three of the infamous Jem'Hadar Bugships, one of them apparently stripped almost to the superstructure, the other looking to be in a severe state of disreappear and powerless, the third one alone showing both signs of activity and of prolonged use, discolored and scarred.

And there was another vessel as well; Jureth could only see part of it, the short-cropped stern with a shuttlebay door blasted open from the inside and a pair of stunted, lower-angled nacelles, visibly unpowered and which looked to be strangely much less aged than the rest of the hull. The ship looked to be rather large although the rest of it's seemingly flattened, oblong hull was out of view, with however a few of the windows weakly alighted. But he could make out the faded painting and what was left of several numbers and letters:

NXC - ...2376

 ...SS AEHESIES

Several of the letters were more discolored, deformed or scarred than the others, the paint underneath a paler tint; and both the registration number and designation made little sense at first. But there was no mistaking it.

It was another Federation starship.

From his seat, the Jem'Hadar obviously in command had taken all this time to look the Bajoran up and down, as if assessing an opponent. But not a hint of emotion showed on his very craggy, heavily spined face and both his stare and voice were even.

"You will address me as First. This ship is spoil of war. Give me your command codes."

Jureth had no idea how many ships these Jem'Hadar had captured, and he still didn't know where they had come from, they obviously weren't true way, and he didn't see any Vorta which meant they weren't likely under Dominion command either. So, what were they...Alpha Jem'Hadar perhaps...born and bred to fight Alpha Quadrant species. That would explain the lack of Cardassians or Vorta. Oseno knew one thing though, he was not about to surrender his command codes...let alone his ship.

"First, is it..very well, but the only thing I will give you is this: Computer lock all command functions! Authorization Oseno Bravo Juliet Six One!"

Jureth finished the command and braced himself for the strike he was sure was coming.

"Command lock down confirmed, " answered the computer's familiar disembodied female voice.

On the center seat, the First raised a hand. A rifle butt stopped merely a couple centimeters from the Bajoran's head.

Sighing, the leader then made a vague gesture with his heavily scaly hand. There was movement behind Oseno and he could see one of his escort leaving the bridge the way they had come. There was a long moment of tense, cold silence asthe Jem'Hadar looked at him almost dispassionately. Almost... The strategic ops officer of the Horizon ws no counselor but he could clearly discern a kind of... eagerness about the testube-made soldier and also a kind of detachment, the kind Jureth knew as that of the professional simply following orders with no sense of guilt or responsibility about what he was doing... or what he was about to do.

When the door to the bridge hissed open, it was to show a soldier coming in, probably the same that had left; it was quite difficult to tell all these Jem-Hadars apart as they all look so much the same with their heavy scales and numerous long and thick spines on their very craggy faces. But this time, he was not alone; his strong hand was holding firm another person he shoved hard on the floor before pointing the thick halberd-like blade of his typical Jem'Hadar rifle at the throat, right under a gaunt, wrinkled face framed by very long dark hair and right above the collar of the discolored, tattered remnants of an orange uniform covering a scrawny, skinny body.

It was a woman, an old woman; and she was Bajoran.

And there was no mistaking the intentions of the whole set up before Oseno's eyes. 

"The command codes, " simply ordered the First.

Jureth looked at the woman, and his heart ached for he was Bajoran and he knew the pain that she must be feeling, accompanied with the fear, but he also knew that he was a Starfleet officer. On top of that he was the captain of the Polaris and he could not allow these Jem'Hadar to take command of the powerful escort. What was it that Ambassador Spock had said? "The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few..." Oseno fixed a cold gaze on the First

"Oseno Jureth, rank Commander, Starfleet, United Federation of Planets. Service number three-one-one-zero-seven-eight." then, knowing from his academy courses that even Jem'Hadar had some sense of personal honor he added, "You will not intimidate me, and if you order her death you will have no honor, and your Gods will surely condemn you."

For a long moment, the First looked into the unflinching eyes of the Starfleet officer. Then he made a motion with his hand.

The Jem'Hadar soldier threatening the defenseless old woman grabbed her roughly by the hair, forced her up to her feet and dragged her out of the command center of the ship.

"We are Jem'Hadar. We do not war on the defenseless but against enemy soldiers. You Oseno Jureth, Starfleet Commander of the United Federation of Planets, service number three-one-one-zro-seven-eight, you are a soldier... and you won this battle."

The Jem'Hadar leader slowly stood up, towering over the Bajoran, never moving his eyes from his.

"As for our Gods... they have forsaken us. Now, we serve his Excellency. He will now decide your fate."

Again, his hand made a curt gesture and Oseno was unceremoniously shoved out of the bridge and back along the dimly lit corridor towards the hatch that linked it to the disruptor-carven tunnels and pits. The four soldiers escorting him, one firmly holding each arm and the two others behind with weapons leveled at his back, powerful searchlights mounted on them,led him back to the metal door of his cell. The two at the back opened it by lifting a massive metal bar from huge brackets in the stone wall then pointed weapons and blinding lights in the faces rising inside. Without a word he was shoved inside his cell and into the arms of his shipmates, the door and then the heavy bar clanging behind him.

Around him, all eyes were asking questions.

T'Lana caught Oseno as he stumbled forward and released him as he steadied himself.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Jureth nodded "I'm fine,"

"What are we dealing with Sir?" Shawn Hunter asked getting right to the point

"Jem'Hadar," Jureth said practically spitting the name of the species "a lot of them. Their First tried to get my command codes for the Polaris."

"So the ship is here?" asked the Capellan tactical specialist Kalaar

Jureth nodded "Yes, she's here, and doesn't appear to be too much worse for the wear. I locked down the command functions while I was on board so they won't be able to move her other than under tractor beam. There are other ships here as well, including at least one Federation ship, which means there are other crews."

"Sir," T'Lana said after she'd had a moment to think "These Jem'Hadar, who commands them? a Vorta? a Founder?"

Jureth shook his head "Neither, they have a First, and they are working for someone but the First only referred to him as His Excellency. Supposedly whoever this is will decide what they do with us."

"That is very unlike the Jem'Hadar," Commander Yiral said  " Jem'Hadar revere the Founders as gods, and in all my travels as a diplomat I have never seen Jem'Hadar mercenaries."

"The First said their Gods had forsaken them..." Jureth replied "I theorized they could be Alpha Jem'Hadar, but that would make them older than any other known Jem'Hadar unless someone is making more."

"Did you see any route of escape?" T'Lana asked

"I couldn't see much of anything, not until they had me aboard the ship anyway. I don't think I could lead us back to her even if we could get out of here."

"Which we cannot," T'lana said evenly "the door is heavily barred and even if we could escape, we cannot fight a facility full of Jem'Hadar without heavy weapons, and we do not know how to get to the ship."

Jureth knew they had to try something to get away, but he also didn't want to do anything that would get them all killed. There was also the matter of the other ship crews being held, it was their duty as Starfleet officers to try and free them as well, but there was nothing they could use to their advantage. The cell had no panels they could access, no circuits to overload, and no way to set up an ambush for the guards. Even to the stubborn Bajoran, their prospects for escape looked bleak.

It was hard to tell the time in a stone cell with not a sound filtrating through the metal door. But it didn,t seem all that long before the noise of the bar on the other side was heard again and the door opened to have them flooded again by a blinding light. One Jem'Hadar guard entered and once again took Jureth by the arm to roughly force him outside.

As he was hauled away, he heard one word from T'Lana.

"Old."

Then the door clanged shut behind him and he was escorted once more through the rock tunnel on the same one way route as before. This time however, there was only two guards with him; one beside him holding him by one arm with a powerful grip, holding a large knife in the other hand and one in the back leveling his disruptor rifle at him two steps away. And when they reached the hatch he knew lead to his ship, they swerved to a side corridor that went in a long, smooth curve, passing two more such hatches several hundred meters between them. Jureth noted that this corridor had been reinforced with duranium beams and bulkheads that suspiciously looked like those seen inside a starship. They reached a fourth hatch, also looking as if it belonged to an old vessel and that seemed almost on the opposite side of the vast hangar he had glimpsed through the viewing screen of the Polaris on his last visit.

As they went along, they saw no one else, except once. On the opposite side of those hatches, he had peered briefly into a larger corridor where he had seen two Jem'Hadars armed with metal rods guiding what looked like at least half a dozen people deeper into the asteroid. They were all rather old, mostly Humans but with a few Bajorans as well, wearing old rags of what must had once been uniforms.

The Humans wore what definitely looked like old style Starfleet uniforms.

And then, he had been brought before the fourth hatch and the one holding him released his arm to open it manually. He grabbed Oseno again and the three of them entered the corridor beyond.

This one was definitely a Federation starship deck, although of a slightly older and unfamiliar design, somewhat between what was currently developped in Starfleet and what had belonged to classic ships like the Prometheus class USS Alsea he had once commanded himself. But it was more spacious yet very utilitarian, strangely like a Defiant class spartan inside bloated to a Sovereign class dimensions.

The ship was eerily silent; there was no engine sound, no computer chirp from the turned off wall panels... yet, there was a very faint, very distant noise, like that of a soft moaning wind in the emptiness. No trace of people inside; no doors opened at their passing.. It felt like a house well kept but uninhabited for a long long time... but not quite. Oseno had a definite feeling of being watched and the hair at the back of his neck were standing up. It felt like he was rather entering a haunted house.

A ghost ship.

His two captors boots resounded on the slghtly dusty deckplates like sinsiter bells tolling at their passing as they went for a good hundred meters in a straight line until they reached a jefferies tube. One took the lead and the other urged the bajoran from behind to climb after his colleague, and they did so for several decks, until it ended at an open hatch above. When he emerged, he found himself on the bridge of a Federation vessel.

Jureth was a bit startled by the familiar design; it looked almost identical to the Alsea's command center, although much larger. A few consoles were active, from which he quickly asserted that the vessel was on condition blue; docked and at minimal power but ready to power up; yet, a quick peek at the engineering station showed the warp core inactive, the impulse engines on standby and only batteries running the ship at minimal power. he also noted that the bridge's hatch leading outside was closed, like after an emergency evacuation.

His attention however was diverted by the bodies sprawled all around.

There were cadavers strewn everywhere, either still seated at stations or sprawled nearby. The bodies were humanoids, seemingly Human but dessicated and shriveled as if they had been exposed to vacuum a long time ago. They all wore uniforms Oseno recognized; it was older versions of the uniforms worn by Starfleet's Corps of Engineers.

Quickly, he looked for the dedication plaque of the vessel near the turbolift and glanced at the largest inscriptions there.

           USS NEMESIS

Achilles Class * NCC - 82376

Roughly, one of the Jem'Hadar forced him down on his knees as they also lowered themselves on one knee each side of him.

"Kneel before his Excellency!"

Before them was the bridge's command chair. And on this chair sat another dead engineer body, shriveled and dessicated as the others.

Had Jureth not seen the horrific holos of the Cardassian occupation of Bajor he would have been made sick by the sight in front of him. These Jem'Hadar appeared to be serving...a dead man. The Bajoran was not sure exactly what he was supposed to do other than the forced kneeling at the hands of the Jem'Hadar, and as he knelt there he contemplated T'Lana's last word to him "old" she had said. Glancing out the corner of his eyes he examined the features of the kneeling Jem'Hadar and realized what she was talking about. These Jem'Hadar were old...older than any Jem'Hadar he had ever seen or heard about. They had to have been here for decades...perhaps since before the Dominion War ended. That was something that he could use to his advantage. Jem'Hadar in their prime his people would be no match for...but these Jem'Hadar were not in their prime, in fact they were very likely elderly which meant that the much younger Starfleet crew had a fighting chance.

Then there was the matter of this ship, and her crew of ghosts. Jureth recognized the Achilles Class...there had been only a few of the class made. They'd been designed for long range strike missions against The Dominion. Oseno wondered how long this one had been here, and why was it manned entirely by engineers? Had it been on a shakedown cruise perhaps? Oseno  decided he would play this scene out for a bit longer and see if he could figure out exactly what was going on here, and so he waited for whatever was going to happen next. 

And what happened did more than surprise him.

Before Oseno Jureth's eyes, a greenish mist started to form around the dessicated remains sprawled in the big chair. It rose like a heavy fume and swirled next almost lise a transporter effect, becoming the oultine of a seated body that slowly rose as it became more dense, more opaque and finally materialized standing to tower over him.

It was a man, a Human; tall and lean and solidly built with powerful muscles etched on his burly arms between his black and mica-scaled gloves to the tattered shoulderpads of his late twenty-third century old remnant of a Starfleet uniform, The fabric was of reddish color faded with age and wide open to reveal a powerful chest adorned with a broken belt buckle in the shape of a Starfleet symbol held to the thick neck by old connecting cables. On top was the head, square and leonine with a thick wild white mane framing aged but still sharply chiseled, bronze-skinned features; a squared jaw, high Asian-like cheekbones each side of a hawkish nose over thin lips. But most startling were the eyes; two slivers of emerald fire, slightly slanted eyes that bore down on them all like phaser cannons. 

"Your Excellency, have you been listening?" asked the lead Jem'Hadar bowing to the spectral apparition.

And then came the voice, deep and slightly nasal, full of natural confidence and authority, with a strange, hard etched accent.

"I have indeed..."

And he was looking intently at Oseno Jureth.

Oseno had seen plenty of things in his young Starfleet career. He had brawled with a Cardassian, fought Klingons, Romulans, and Undine, and helped stop a spatial anomaly that threatened the very existence of the galaxy as most knew it. None of that, prepared him for the figure that was before him. As a security officer, he trained for the unexpected, but something like this was not covered in any training simulation. The Bajoran was visibly shaken by the figure's presence though as Jureth looked up at him he composed himself. In a steady voice he asked the one question in his mind he couldn't ignore

"Who are you, and why have you taken my ship and detained my crew?"

For a moment, the imposing figure just looked at him with slitted eyes, as if trying to pierce his very soul with it's fiery stare. He made a sign and the Jem'Hadars brought him back up forcibly to his feet but not relinquishing their firm hold on him from both sides. The white-haired aged man looked at him. His head went on one side then the other as he detailed Oseno.

"I don't know you... I never forget a face."

There was a curious discontinuity in his speech pattern, as if he was a bad actor searching for disjointed lines in a play he had been a part of before and trying to fit them in the present situation. After another pause, he brought his torso up and lifted his chin.

"Khan, is my name."

There was another pause as his face suddenly went from unbridled pride to complete puzzlement. He turned away for a moment, then came back again to the Bajoran with a finger lifted between them as if realizing something.

"You didn't expect to find me here! You thought this was..."

Again his expression changed, this time to a more predatory one.

"Now tell me; why are you here? And tell me, where can I find... Captain... Kheren."

And the way he spoke the name was like someone uttering a curse.

Oseno focused on the apparition...if that's what it was, but even for a man whose people revered the entities residing in a stable wormhole as gods Jureth could sense that something wasn't quite right. That name, Khan...that was impossible Oseno knew. Khan Noonien Singh had died along with his group of super soldiers aboard the USS Reliant when it exploded in the Mutara nebula over a century ago. James T. Kirk's tactics during that battle were required reading for all potential tactical officers and command officers at Starfleet Academy. So, Oseno knew that this could not possibly be Khan, but he still was not sure what it was he was dealing with. He certainly was not about to give whoever, or whatever it was any information about Captain Kheren though truthfully he did not know the captain's location or even if he was alive. His mental assessment of the situation still evolving, Jureth decided to start with the obvious.

"You are not Khan." he stated matter of factly "Starfleet records along with corroborating logs from the USS Enterprise under Captain Kirk hold that Khan Noonien Singh was killed more than a century ago when the stolen USS Reliant was destroyed in the Mutara Nebula. Secondly, my ship and my crew were brought here by your Jem'Hadar after we suffered an engineering malfunction. Finally, I do not know Captain Kheren, I have heard of him, but have never served with him."

Oseno was lying of course, but his survival, escape, and evade training was directing his statements. He would reveal nothing to this as yet unknown enemy willingly. Jureth didn't know what the entity wanted with the captain, but it would not get information about Kheren from him.