Chapter 9: Infringing Upon Destiny

Posted on 08/12/2012 @ 6:20am by Captain Tyrel Sterling & Lt. Commander Brian Archer & Lt. Commander Ray Pasqual & Sublieutenant Janus Falcar & Civilian D'Tan & Lieutenant JG Jeremy Mitchell & Lieutenant Lena Than & Lieutenant JG Rondeck & Ensign Ravell Bradbury & Lieutenant JG Samuel Taggart & Captain Douglas Doyle & Captain Terrah & Captain Duron & Lieutenant JG Sa'arvik & Civilian K'vada
Edited on on 09/15/2012 @ 9:41am

Mission: The Resurrection of Icarus
Location: Planet Khii... Romulan space near Neutral Zone
Timeline: 2388

CHAPTER NINE: INFRINGING UPON DESTINY

Captain’s Log

Stardate 58481.7

The Romulan shuttle S'Talon under the command of Lieutenant Commander Brian Archer along with his partners Lieutenant Cassie Strider, and helm officer Sublieutent Falcar have just launched from the hanger of the Icarus and are enroute to the planet Khii to begin their rescue mission of the captured Romulan delegates within the Capital City of Kalabam. They are accompanied by two of Terrah’s officers from the Blackwing: Sub-Commander Zorak, and Sub-Lieutenant Volskiar. Falcar is piloting this vessel. They carry with them all of the topographic and security maps, blueprints and files available and assembled regarding the entire region around Kalabam. This should be sufficient for the mission. The rest will be dependent on the skills and tenacity of their team.

Meanwhile, we are still in the process of trying to separate the Romulan Heavy Cruiser Blackwing from the Dominion battleship Sienae after Terrah’s impulsive maneuver of ramming the opponent’s ship. We currently have the majority of the Blackwing’s crew transported, shuttled and scattered among the allied vessels, including our own. We have only now begun to register progress in this separation process but even if we are successful, it will take some time for Terrah and a team to bring the Blackwing back to normal operating condition.

The Sienae though has taken too much significant damage and sensors indicate a much higher casualty rate. All main systems on this enemy ship are registering as gone and back-up levels are marginal and wavering in the last few remaining locales within the large crippled vessel.

I will make it a point to meet with our Federation delegation once again today to check on the status of their progress thus far. Commander Hartzer has be devoting all of her time and energy in working with D’Tan and the other more challenging delegates to get them unified and prepared should Archer’s team be successful on his rescue mission.

So much lies in the balance among all of these endeavors. I have to admit though that it is at times a struggle to remain fully alert, optimistic, and carefully move forward in all matters when also combating a stream of stated and unstated negativity emanating from another officer on the bridge. I wonder though if this is really perceived as somehow being helpful?

As the captain came back from his short hop to his ready room, Counselor Pasqual noticed immediately the agressive stare the man glared towards him before resuming his command post so abruptly vacated while they were still engaged in a crisis. It didn't take his Starfleet experience to guess that he had done so to record his overdue log in private; and that therefore it most probably cited in a negative way someone on the bridge he didn't want hearing what he was recording. It didn't take any psychiatrist skill either to guess that this someone was Ray himself.

I'm not even saying anything and he's again balking at a mere glance from me, sighed inwardly the Orion officer. Didn't he heard anything I said when, amazingly, he rejected my resignation?

He returned his attention to his board.

Well, he better releive me from duty or throw me in the brig or through an airlock if he can't face even a criticizing glance... and learn fast to face criticism, because this is nothing compared of what will fall on him and the rest of us at the board of inquiry when all this awful mess concludes. If we survive all this, that is...

Then, his attention was back to the comm channels as the covert shuttle's atmospheric entry was confirmed. He had to stay alert in case any emergency call from the covert team came up.

Which would be most likely, if the previous events that brought them all here were any indication.

Sterling resumed his position in the center seat and looked up at the main viewscreen.

Addressing the assistant chief of operations, “Lieutenant Phelix, what is the current status of the shuttle S’Talon?” the captain inquired.

“She is just entering the outer atmosphere of the planet Khii, Sir.”

“Tactical, put up a display to show the S’Talon’s entryway into the atmosphere and onto the surface as it arrives.”

“Yes Sir, setting up a display configuration… now” Ensign Bradbury replied as he engaged his console and sent up a projection of the the planet with a grid pattern overlaid onto the main viewscreem. A small blinking triangle representing the cloaked Romulan shuttle was moving slowly through the atmosphere.

“Augment and modify our view of it’s trajectory as needed Ensign.” The captain added as he kept his eye fixed on the display.

“Any sign of hostile forces anywhere in the vicinity?” Sterling then inquired.

"All channels clear, Captain." Ray was first to report. "With no more jamming in the vicinity, we may assume no hostile forces active for the moment. But that may just be a reprieve. It sure doesn't feel like a victory yet, Sir."

As he finished, the Orion turned in his swiveling chair and his eyes fell on the main viewer where the tactical planetary display showed the progression of the S'Talon. His brow furrowed deeply.

"Sir... if the shuttle is supposed to be cloaked... how come we are following it on sensors?"

Drawing his attention away from the mainviewscreen Sterling turned to address Pasqual’s inquiry.

“Yes Councelor, this may initially appear to nullify our cloaking device. However, Lieutenant Mitchell attached an encoded transponder inside of the shuttle that operates on a synchronized rotating frequency. We receive an "interrogator" signal from the shuttle and then automatically reply with an identification code which we use to map out its location at that particular moment. The signal then re-adjusts precisely by time displacement for the next transmission. These are done in frequencies designed to appear as natural backgrown radiation signals and therefore should not trigger any of the Romulan detection sensors. The grid on our main viewscreen then literally connects the dots to show the shuttles progress between transmissions. It will automatically shut off upon landing and then begin to transmit again once launched again”

"Clever," Ray said, nodding approvingly. "Even trying to find the signal with any mean through background radiation requires the exact frequency of the signal to locate and recognize... and that is, until it shifts again. Random search would very unlikely stumble even once on one of those frequencies... and loose it on the next change probably before it would even be identified."

His gaze shifted from the screen to the man in the center seat.

"Unless... somebody here or on the shuttle would transmit that frequency pattern to the enemy. With all the sabotage, spying, treachery and hidden data and agendas on both sides plaguing this whole mission from the start, I wouldn't dismiss the possibility, Sir."

Turning to his board, he hit a few controls.

"I will monitor all frequencies for any kind of transmission from here or the planet... and I suggest that sensors should do the same with any energy emission... just in case."

Acknowledging the recommendation by the counselor, Sterling concurred.

“There is certainly nothing I would consider too cautious under these circumstances Mister Pasqual… your suggestion is a sound one. Keep me posted if anything happens to turn up out of the ordinary as you continue monitoring everything going on around us.”

Sterling then turned once again to address Lieutenant Callen at the tactical station.

“How is the progress going on the separation of the Blackwing from the Sienae?”

Looking up from the tactical console, Callen replied.

“Well Captain… this certainly hasn’t been something we could have accomplished on our own. But as a result of the coordinated tugging through tractor beams by each of us, it would appear that we are only about 10 to 12 minutes from reaching a separation point. Hopefully, we won’t add too much additional damage to the Blackwing when they finally pull apart.”

A subtle smirk escaped from the captain’s expression.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that Lieutenant… it would not compare to the damage that they inflicted on their ship themselves.”

Sterling then signaled main engineering.

“Lieutenant Mitchell here.”

“Sterling here Lieutenant. Have an engineering repair team ready to beam over to assist the Blackwing’s crew once the separation has been confirmed… this may occur in approximately 15 minutes.”

“Understood Captain” the engineer replied. “They’ll be ready when you give the word”

“Excellent Mister Mitchell, carry on.”

Just as the Captain was about to disengage the com he added “By the way, so far your transponder is working most effectively.”

“Thank you Captain” Mitchell replied; with a mixture of pride and relief.

“Sterling out”

The Captain then contacted both the transporter specialist and the shuttle bay manager to let them know that the crew of the Blackwing may be returning back to their ship shortly. Sterling could sense the relief coming from each of these officer’s voice as well.

----------------------------

As soon as the Blacking's shuttle was clear of the Icarus hangar bay Archer turned to Zorak who was sitting at one of the shuttle's utility consoles.

"Engage the cloak, I don't want to give anyone a chance to pick us up from the surface."

The shuttle shimmered and faded from few as the cloaking device activated "Cloak engaged" Zorak reported

Archer nodded and then reached inside the folds up his uniform and pulled out a Federation tricorder much to the surprise of all the occupants of the shuttle.

"What are you doing?" Zorak asked with surprise "Why did you bring that?"

"So I could do this.." Brian replied as he opened the tricorder and began to scan the interior of the shuttle.

"What are you looking for?"

"Bugs, listening devices, explosives..."

"You don't trust us?" Volsikar asked

"It's not you I don't trust. It's everybody. The Icarus had a saboteur, your ship and the Klingons were ambushed. There have been too many coincidences on this mission for me to take any chances."

Brian moved through the shuttle interior scanning each wall, console, storage space, and piece of equipment. As he moved toward the rear of the shuttle the tricorder began beeping at him. He ordered the device to triangulate the source of the anomaly and followed it until he found what had set the device off. It was small, and it was clearly of Federation design. He returned to the main compartment of the shuttle and set the device down on the deck so everyone except Falcar who was busy navigating could see it.

"What..is that?" Zorak asked

"I don't know, but the tricorder picked up its electronic signature toward the rear of the shuttle. I suspect its a tracker."

"Placed by whom?"

"Someone on the Icarus."

"Your people?" Zorak said with an accusatory tone "More sabotage?"

"Not likely," Archer replied "Its more likely they just want to be able to see where we are."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"This.." Archer lifted his leg up and stompped down hard on the device shattering its casing. He then placed the tricorder on the deck and replicated the process several times until the tricorder's casing and display shattered.

"Now we are completely dark."

He returned to his seat and looked down at the console. His Romulan was a little rusty but it looked like the shuttle's sensors were picking up several fighters in the atmosphere.

"Mister Falcar..see if you can steer us clear of those fighters. They shouldn't be able to detect us, but I don't want to take the chance."

------

As the bridge crew of the Icarus were attentively following the triangular symbol of the cloaked Romulan shuttlecraft carrying the combined Federation and Romulan away team on the main viewscreen, the avatar of the shuttle suddenly blipped out of existence as they entered into the planet Khii’s inner atmosphere.

Ensign Bradbury manning the tactical station immediately began reconfiguring his console again, but the grid pattern of the planet still was void of the shuttle.

“Captain, we have lost the signal from the S’Talon. It was there… and then it just vanished.”

Sterling sighed.

“I would guess Ensign that Lieutenant Commander Archer found our hidden transponder and decided that he didn’t want us following his progress. Well… he got what he wanted, because from this point forward we will be blind to their whereabouts.”

"As will any possible spy, saboteur or enemy eavesdropper here or on any of our friendly ships or elsewhere," added Pasqual. "Granted the chances were remote, considering both our security's latest sweep and the nature of that transponder... But so far, the deck is so heavily stacked against us and from the start, I can understand Mister Archer's caution."

His gaze was suddenly quite intent as he looked into the eyes of his commanding officer.

"I recommend, Sir, that from now on and without being overtly doing so, we should act as if we were facing opposition from every direction... including and most importantly... from our back."

There was a sudden silence on the bridge as the Orion officer uttered those words. What they implied was practically impossible to accept. Yet, it was just as impossible to imagine the dire events they had been facing, all the obstacles they had been confronting, all the strange happenstances they had seen, occuring without one key player at the source of it all.

Starfleet.

Sterling turned in the center seat toward the viewscreen and then back to the communication console to his left and slightly behind him to address the Orion counselor. A part of him initially wanted to admonish Pasqual for stating out-loud what they had discussed in confidence in their previous meetings, but he also realized they all felt to some degree as if they had been strategically led down the garden path throughout this mission; since the moment it began.

With a slight grin of acknowledgement, the captain stated privately “It is quite a fine line that separates general paranoia from well-grounded cautionary tactics Mister Pasqual.”

He then leaned back and stated outloud.

“Carry out your initiative Counselor, and we’ll consciously do the same… from this point forward.”

Then leaning in once more he stated rhetorically in a hushed tone “The question will be Mister Pasqual, who will be the one called to pay the piper when the time comes?”

"I think we both already know the answer to that question, Captain Sir," whispered Ray In the same low tone.

And in his deep green eyes, the usually mocking glare was now doused by a much more intense fire.

Smoldering anger.

A call then came in from the VIP hall to the center seat. Sterling engaged the switch.

“Capt’n Sir” then piped in the unmistakable syntax of his first officer.

“Commanduh Hartzer here… Ya gotta sec to pop in to da circus down here?”

Even though Sterling had planned to visit the Federation delegates hammering away down on deck 3 sooner or later, he was intending later rather than sooner.

So much for that plan he realized.

“I’ll be down in a moment Commander” Sterling stated as he stood up and indicated for Lieutenant Callen at the tactical station to take the conn.

“Hold down the fort for the moment Lieutenant Callen.”

“Yes Sir” the eager young Lieutenant stated as he leaped away from the tactical station, adjusted his uniform and then walked in a more dignified manner toward the center seat.

As he turned toward the turbolift Sterling passed by the communication station.

“Mister Pasqual, let’s go see what is going on with these delegates.”

Ray signaled to his relief and bounded right behind his commanding officer. Only when the turbolift door shut itself and the cabin followed Sterling's order did he dare comment on his last words.

"Taking into account all the mess we've been through and still wading in... I can make an educated guess as to what is going on and what we will stumble unto, Captain Sir... And it's not going to be pretty."

------------------------

Down on Deck 3 along with Commander Hartzer, Cadet First Class Thran was heading up the security detail that was both trying to contain the delegates and keep them safe at the same time. Speaking with a particularly pushy Commander, one of the ambassador's aides or something along those lines, he was doing his best not to deliver a Vulcan neck pinch to the man.

"Now you listen to me Cadet," the man said with particular disdain emphasized on the word cadet "if you don't get the first officer or the captain over here to talk to me I will-"

Thran held up his hand and cut the man off "No," he said forcefully rising to his full height which was on the tall side even for an Andorian "You listen to me. Regardless of my cadet status Sir, Commander Archer has given me full authority as his assistant security officer aboard this ship. If you continue to cause a disturbance and continue to create problems for my security officers I will be forced to detain you and have you spend the rest of the trip in the Icarus' brig."

The man glared at Thran and his eyes narrowed "You wouldn't dare."

Thran didn't respond he merely motioned to the two security officers behind him and they stepped forward so that they were flanking the commander on either side. Seeing the security officers the commander looked from them to Thran, huffed, and turned and walked away. As the man left Thran smiled a wry smile at his back.

"Thank you gentlemen" he said to the two security officers who returned to their posts near the door. Thran knew that Commander Hartzer had called for the captain, and he hoped that Sterling arrived soon because he really didn't want to have to start throwing diplomats in the brig.

--------------------

The turbolift doors parted after arriving to deck 3 after a brief decent from the bridge.

Sterling and Pasqual exited the lift and headed directly for the VIP area set-up for the Federation delegates in what was the section designated as Officer’s Mess Hall. It was an inconvenience for many of the officers of the Icarus not having access to this facility, but they had adapted to these circumstances by using the Main Lounge on deck 8 and a temporary Mess Hall set up in Cargo bay 2 on deck 16.

The captain and the counselor approached the security officers stationed outside of door to the delegate’s conference room. Sterling addressed one of the security guards.

“Anything to report Lieutenant Torak?” the captain inquired.

“No sir. Nothing occurring out here to report”.

Then after a brief hesitation, Torak added “However, Cadet Thran is monitoring security inside the conference room. He may have a different story…Sir.”

No doubt Sterling thought .

“Carry on, gentlemen,” Sterling stated as he and Pasqual headed through the doors and into the conference area.

There were two sentries approaching each side of the inside portion of the doors as they walked in and they could see the Andorian cadet Thran standing there seriously observing the movements of a man walking away from him.

Hmmm…the Captain thought.

Sterling leaned over to Pasqual and whispered as they walked.

“Perhaps we’ll have a brief discussion with the cadet first before we meet with Commander Hartzer.”

Ray just nodded noncomitally, eyeing the people in the room before them. He was no Betazoid to read minds or Deltan to read moods, but he was a competent psychologist; enough at least to perceive the highly negatively charged air breathed between all those people.

Not that he was the least bit surprised. They had all been manipulated by occult forces within Starfleet, betrayed by Romulans, all under the reproacheful, distrusting glare of the Klingons and almost killed by a still unidentified enemy still at large. Everything all these peace-minded people had worked so hard for was now lying in complete ruin, with no mean or hope to even salvage part of it. Instead of peace between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire, there would now only be left renewed suspicion, deeper than ever... and all this possibly at the price of loosing respect and trust from their most agressive and volatile ally.

The twenty-fourth century was not going to end well. And it heralded interesting times for the next century...

Interesting in the old Earth Chinese sense of the word.

----------------------

The S'Talon, having cleared the Scorpion fighters in the atmosphere now swooped down into the skies above Khii's capital city. As the metropolis came into view Archer noted the high walled buildings, buttresses and turrets. He knew that getting into the city was not going to be easy, but he also knew that failure was not an option. The only result he would settle for was getting all of the diplomats and his people back to the Icarus alive.

"Falcar," Archer said to the pilot "before we land, take us over the city, but not too low."

Falcar only nodded and Brian felt the shuttle change course and he motioned to Zorak to come forward as they angled toward the center of town.

"Any ideas on where they are?"

"Commander Terrah briefed us that there had been a temporary embassy set up in one of the government buildings. They are concentrated along the interior of the city. They also have modern defenses, turrets, shields...it is not going to be easy Archer."

"It never is."

"I hate to interrupt," Cassie Strider said with an urgency in her voice "but we're being painted by sensors!"

"Impossible!" Volsikar stated

"Falcar get us out here and make for the landing site!" Brian ordered

Again the helmsman offered no response completely focused on flying the shuttle which rose quickly at a steep angle away from the city. After a couple of minutes Cassie let out a breath

"I think we're clear."

"What happened?" Archer asked Zorak

"I do not know, it is possible they have advanced defenses we are unaware of."

"Looks like its more than possible," Archer replied

As the shuttle flew toward the landing point they'd selected, a heavily wooded area about two miles from the city, Brian closed his eyes and began to think about his assault plans.

-----

Within 10 meters of the entrance of delegate’s conference room on deck 3 of the Icarus, Cadet Thran provided Sterling and Pasqual with a synopsis of his confrontation with Vulcan ambassador S'Jenes.

As Sterling listen intently to the Andorian’s retelling of these recent events, he perused his vision around the spacious room. He noted the Vulcan Ambassadors were now clustered together on the starboard side of the hall, occupied in quiet conversation while the Klingon K’Vada stood staunchly on the port side of the room with arms folded across his chest as he engaged in an animated and thunderous discussion with Commander Hartzer. In between them all sat Ambassador D’Tan; waiting silently and patiently in the center of the delegate’s table.

All the while, Ray was paying attention to the very individual cadet Thran was reporting about. The tall, thin Vulcan noticed his stare and turned away, but not fast enough to hide the baleful glare he had been directing at the Andorian when he started his report... nor aware that his very slow, dignified act of turning away betrayed to the trained eye of the ship's chief counselor the very disdain the security officer was talking about.

"Indeed, rather emotional for a Vulcan... and one involved in a critical diplomatic mission no less..." commented Pasqual softly to his commanding officer.

He knew better than to take at face value the fable about emotionless Vulcans, a myth allegedly cultivated by Vulcans themselves. Contrary to Saurians, they were not basically emotionless beings; their savage antiquity up to the Time of Surak and the way their distant Romulan cousins behaved today were both proof enough of that. They were all just supremely masterful at controlling and repressing them.

All but this one.

Interesting... he thought again, but this time not in the Chinese sense of the word.

Sterling acknowledged Pasqual’s comment, adding quietly “It is rather peculiar that this Vulcan would initiate an insult at K’vada and then continue to exchange verbal barbs with him as well.”

What they gathered from cadet Thran was that Vulcan ambassador S'Jenes implied something regarding K’vada’s questionable intelligence and lineage in respect to his involvement in these diplomatic proceedings. K’vada in return offered to crack open the Vulcan’s skull to search for any functioning higher-level activity hidden among the disheveled short-circuited wiring posing as a brain in that thick pompous cranium of his. Things just went downhill from there.

Leaning in to Pasqual, Sterling inquired discretely “Professional recommendations on how we approach these individuals Counselor?”

A wry smile crossed the greenish face of the Orion officer.

"As Mister Archer would undoubtebly say; the best defense is a good offense. If we confront them directly, a Vulcan would at best raise an eyebrow then offer logical responses to argue against our claims. Anyone else however... like a surgically altered humanoid... or a Vulcan-posing Romulan..."

Vigilantly scanning the situation in the room once again, the Captain responded.

“Well then Counselor… the direct approach it is.”

Focusing on the heated discussion continuing between Commander Hartzer and K’vada on the ship’s port side of the VIP hall, Sterling pointed a finger in their direction as he added “Perhaps we should begin with those two.”

The sudden switch from the suspiciously atypical Vulcan they had been concerned with to the otherwise well known pair Sterling pointed at made Ray blink several times in confusion.

"Any insight you care to share, Captain Sir?"

Sterling noted the perplexed expression on the counselor’s face as Pasqual inquired about his change of focus regarding the Vulcan to that of the pair on the port side.

“I wish that I had some to offer.” Sterling replied sincerely, as he now studied the interactions transpiring between the two. “But I thought that perhaps if we first listened to K’vada’s perspective along with Hartzers, it may possibly give us some idea of how to better handle the situation with the Vulcan afterward.”

As they headed toward the two, Sterling added discreetly “Besides… Commander Harzer is the one who requested my presence… and she looks like she could use a bit of our support as well”

Approaching the pair, K’vada was speaking emphatically to the first officer.

“…and I did not travel all the way here from Q’onoS at the request of the Federation Council to have some ill-mannered Vulcan peta’Q spew his ignorance at my expense! As you are well aware Commander, the WovHaqtaj was attacked by Romulans. The ship along with her captain and chief medical officer, among hundreds of others, were killed escorting me to this summit! Yes, they met their demise in battle with an enemy, but that doesn’t compensate for the cowardly way in which they were ambushed; even if the honor of those warriors was served.”

She carefully studied the stance of the Klingon as he expounded his words. But it wasn’t just the words he spoke that were of concern; it was his overall posture. K’vada was livid, as revealed by the throbbing veins in his neck and head, accompanied by his bearing; which was perceptibly amped-up and prepared for battle. Before Hartzer could respond, the Klingon continued.

“Then I have to deal with this Vulcan’s pomposity as he starts shoving his baktag into my nostrils and ears… yet this bIHnuch is himself apparently too stupid to even know that such challenges to a Klingon’s personal honor and lineage are equally settled by personal combat.”

As he reached to his side, he swiftly extracted his weapon and stated menacingly as he held the dagger in his hand away from Hartzer, but clearly gesturing his desired intention.

“I have a blade ready to slice out that t’gla’s tongue if he is too fearful to meet me in battle!”

Hartzer looked the angered Klingon straight in the eyes and showed no sign of fear whatsoever. She carefully adjusted her fedora and stated in a tone of intense seriousness.

“Look… I know ya’ don’t take t’ insults and such… but Oxmyx’s teeth K’vada… this is a freekin’ mission of peace! We can’t have ya disembowelin’ everyone who says somethin’ nasty and stupid!’’

As if on cue, Sterling and Pasqual stepped next to the pair. But for the moment, the eyes of Hartzer and K’vada stayed solely fixed on each other.

Cadet Thran, conferring with the security officers near the door, heard the confrontation on the other side of the room and his antennae straightened slightly.

"Come with me," he said to the human male with him and the pair strode over toward the assembled group coming up behind Captain Sterling and the ship's counselor. Thran's hand was on the type II phaser which sat in its holster on his right hip and his companion was cradling a phaser rifle.

"Is there a problem Captain?" Thran asked Sterling as he directed a glare toward the Klingon ambassador.

Captain Sterling summarily acquired the attention of the Andorian and then motioned a subtle hand gesture to Thran and the human security officer to back-off slightly and not brandish their weapons. K’vada was already agitated. There was no need or purpose to antagonize the Klingon any further.

He then whispered discreetly to Thran “This is what I am attempting to determine Cadet.”

He then turned his attention back to the Klingon and inquired in a calm yet authorative voice “Ambassador K’vada, is there something that we can help you with?”

This had the initial affect of breaking the stare-down stalemate between Hartzer and K’vada as the irritated ambassador turned his glare directly toward Sterling.

Within his peripheral view, Sterling saw the shine of the blade in K’vada’s hand as it caught reflections of light emanating from the ceiling in the hall. Since the dagger was not directed as a threat toward any of the Icarus crew around the Klingon, Sterling kept his eyes fixed directly into the eyes of the aged warrior.

Without uttering a sound, Sterling then slowly reached out his arm and opened his hand to signal K’vada to surrender the blade.

K’vada then noticed the hand gesture and grunted slightly in protest. Nevertheless, a few tension-filled moments later, he reluctantly placed the dagger onto the Captain’s outreached palm. They all breathed a hushed sigh of relief as Sterling subtly handed the weapon to Thran standing near them while maintaining his focus squarely on the Klingon ambassador.

Then K’vada bellowed “Sterling, I was attempting once again to point out to these tunnel-visioned toh-pahs that that are so fixated on the trivial details of the Federation position in this delegation that they are missing the critical overall issues that would need to be addressed and resolved first before anything else could occur.”

The Klingon then reflected for a moment as he tried to remember an expression he had learned long ago. It then came back to him in a flash so he continued.

“There is an old earth idiom I heard many years ago Captain… They can’t see the forest for the trees. This is how these Vulcans are proceeding… they are caught up in the minutia of our situation and their perceived task yet refuse to even acknowledge this; let alone show any willingness to see past their own limited perspective.”

Sterling understood what K’vada was saying, but didn’t have any idea of what he was referring to.

He inquired “Could you be more specific ambassador?”

K’vada grunted in exasperation as he tried to come up with a concise way to convey his point.

“These Vulcans together are wrapped up in all of the technical aspects and specific word phrasing of this proposed treaty between the Romulan Empire and the Federation that they have been diligently working on for who knows how long, and yet they are completely ignoring the most fundamental issues that we are all facing… we have traitors, spies, sympathizers, and divided factions on both sides of this impending summit! How the hell are we ever going to agree let alone enforce any such treaty… no matter how well conceived, written and presented it may be while these critical issues are present and plaguing us from virtually all directions?”

"Indeed, most... illogical..." Pasqual whispered to his captain. "In fact, very... atypical."

The Counselor was studying K'vada most closely now. Although his attitude was typically Klingon, his speech pattern definitely was not. Klingon ambassadors and even scientists he ever met or heard about were never this verbose, this forthcoming in details and reasons and explanations as this one was. Klingons were typically straightforward, to the point and talking like fighters in a knife fight: the fewer and shorter strikes the better.

But not this K'vada.

And brandishing a weapon without using it was practically unheard of for a Klingon warrior. Klingons had the same saying as Old Earth's samurais: once naked, a blade must taste blood. Thus, Klingons, like Andorians and all other so-called warrior races, might threaten you with words; but when they raised a fist or a blade, it was to strike, not to merely threaten further or make a show of strength like would do a Human trying to hide his fear or wish to warn an opponent out of a fight.

But not this K'vada.

And now this; giving up his own blade... This was nothing short of surrendering and submitting one's honor to the whim of the other.

From a Klingon? And to a mere Human? Without any battle to force it out of his hand?

The Orion inched back from Sterling and out of sight of the Klingon behind his taller frame towards the Andorian cadet. His voice was so low no one could possibly hear it; that is, no one without antennae that could hear as good as a Terran dog.

"Thran; cover the captain. Phaser setting 4."

This was the lowest setting to effectively kill a living creature. But if Ray's suspicions were right, nothing short would incapacitate the one species of sentient being able to have substituted itself like this to the famous Imperial warrior.

He sure hoped he was wrong. This would explain almost everything in one swoop, the whole aray of treacheries from all sides, the bizare behaviors... even Starfleet's unbeleivable and unheard of duplicity. But it would also mean that the danger to them all was much worse than they had imagined so far. Not only to them, but to all civilizations of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants... if not this universe.

Thran's auditory senses heard the counselor's nearly silent order and though the cadet was unsure what conclusions Pasqual was drawing he did as he was instructed slowly sliding his phaser from its holster and dialing up the correct setting. He also used a subtle wave of his hand to send the other security officer around to the captain's other side. Thran then glanced at the other guards that were in his field of view and he could see that they were poised to act if necessary with hands on their weapons. If the Klingon ambassador moved against the captain or Commander Hartzer he would be cut down by no less than four phasers. The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with the blade the Klingon had just surrendered to Sterling. Something was going to happen, the Andorian knew, the question that remained was what.

Sensing something peculiar as well, Sterling followed up with questions as he continued to glare more intently at K’vada.

First, he inquired nonchalantly “So Ambassador… tell me something about your interactions with Jean-Luc Picard.”

K’vada just gave him an angered yet quizzical stare.

“What the hell are you talking about Sterling… and what does this have to do with our issues here with this inept Vulcan or this inane summit?”

Sterling just kept closely watching his reactions.

“Surely you can see the connection K’vada… a diplomatic mission involving a member of the Federation, a Vulcan even… with a group of Romulans” Sterling stated.

After a momentary pause, Sterling rephrased his initial interrogative.

“So… I am curious K’vada, what exactly did you discuss with Picard during the time you spent with him?”

As he inquired and engaged the ambassador, Sterling clandestinely reached his hands behind his back and sent a manual signal to Pasqual to call for Doctor Cyl.

Our noble ship commander obviously read my file, inwardly smirked Ray, seeing the back-hidden fingering of Sterling to him. In this day and age, not many were aware of the antique Morse code, even less knowledgeable about it's hand-signal version, even among communication specialists.

With everyone's attention distracted by the face-off between K'vada and the captain of the Icarus, the Orion stepped away and discreetly tapped his combadge to whisper facing a nearby wall so that no one would see his lips move.

"Pasqual to Cyl. You're needed, deck 3, conference room."

Despite the lowered output of his communicator, he could clearly hear the grumbling in the chief medical officer's cold tone of voice.

"You broke a nail, Counselor?"

"You wish... Captain's orders."

"It better not be you needing attention. Got better things to do..."

"Why, and miss watching me suffer and die?"

"On my way."

There was a definite smile in the final words of the Trill doctor. And that smile was also stretching a thin line accross the green-skinned officer's lips as he inched his way back to his captain's side and subtly nodded to him.

Sterling noted Pasqual’s subtle signal signal back to him from the corner of his eye as he keep K’vada engaged in conversation.

“… and there is no reason for me to dignify a response to your irrelavent questions Sterling” the ambassador huffed as he then defiantly crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at the Captain.

Sterling ignored the insolent words and overt gestures of the Klingon and persisted with his discussion.

“I was hoping K’vada, that you could provide some first-hand insight into the events that transpired between Picard and Ambassador Spock at least… since we are on a somewhat related mission here.”

Commander Harzer then stepped back slightly and just looked inquisitively now from K’vada to the captain, wondering Hells bells… what da heck is goin’ on here? He’s up ta somethin’… but what?

K’vada meanwhile just stared furiously at the captain… as if uncertain how to respond or react to this specific line of questioning.

Four decks below the conference site, Doctor Cyl wondered what sort of nonsense that Orion menace was up to now as he prepared to leave sickbay. Nevertheless, he would arrive prepared with his medical tricorder and a portable emergency kit.

Within a matter of seconds he swiftly stepped off of the turbolift and onto deck 3 as he immediately headed toward the delegation conference area. Passing through the security guards outside of the room, he entered the VIP Hall and carefully glanced around the room. He then noted what appeared to be a sort of stand-off on the port side with Sterling and K’vada poised eye-to-eye; surrounded by Hartzer, Pasqual and a small team of security officers.

Cyl stopped in his tracks for the moment wondering Damn… what the hell do I do now?

The trill inside of him offered no insight or suggestions either.

Cautiously, the Doctor crept gradually toward the annoying half-Orion counselor as he discreetly opened his medical tricorder; careful to not garner any attention from those standing within range of his approaching proximity.

Arriving unobtrusively within auditory range behind the counselor, Cyl inquired inconspicuously “What is going on here Pasqual?”

"You mean... you don't know?" said the Orion officer between his teeth, feigning mild shock. But then he became deadly serious. "Someone is not who he pretends to be here..."

The sentence might have sounded like another jab at the chief medical officer, but Cyl already knew enough of the annoying counselor to tell that, this time, it was not the case. And if he had called the CMO about it, it meant only one thing: a deep and discreet bioscan was needed to genetically identify someone in the room.

Reading past the counselor’s initial tiresome and ongoing jibe, Cyl stealthily activated his medical tricorder and began a detailed scanning analysis of each individual within his proximity. He started with the Orion-Human hybrid next to him, whose readings indicated the unusual but expected results from the unique genetic amalgamation of two significantly different species. All of the scanning results the doctor would perform on each individual would be transmitted directly to sickbay for a more detailed and thorough comparative analysis. His hand-held tricorder though would at least provide him with some preliminary results of each unobtrusive remote examination until those results eventually arrived.

As Doctor Cyl carefully shifted his inconspicuous scanning of each individual, the subsequent multivariate discriminant analysis of DNA and genetic sequences, blood types, heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, perspiration, and muscle tension, along with various biosystems including musculoskeletal, circulatory, digestive, endocrine, integumentary, urinary, lymphatic, immune, respiratory, nervous and reproductive systems commenced.

His tricorder then swiftly compared the results of each individual scan to those on record in sickbay. Afterward, an advanced cross-analysis was performed to compare all readings with those typically recorded of the same species. Any unusual variations, infections, diseases and other potential medical conditions or discrepancies from either of these procedures were then noted in the sickbay databank, sent to the Doctor on duty, and later transmitted to Cyl's tricorder.

So far Doctor Cyl’s scans indicated no abnormal readings, until he was concluding his analysis of the Klingon Ambassador K’vada. Initially, all of the bioscans were characteristically consistent; that is until results were being transmitted to the tricorder from sickbay. Simultaneously, a signal beeped from Cyl’s combadge. He quickly turned away and tried to mask the sound as Doctor Pender stated in a muffled tone beneath Cyl’s hand.

“Doctor Cyl, we just received some rather startling results from your tricorder scans. You need to come down here right away.”

Exasperated, Doctor Cyl tried to maneuver his position away from the nearby group and walk inconspicuously back toward the exit.

This time though he failed.

Ambassador K’vada now turned his full attention and posture from Captain Sterling to Cyl as he shouted out suspiciously.

“Hey… Doctor… What are you up to?”

With his back to the Klingon, Cyl immediately froze in his tracks. He didn’t need his tricorder to measure the elevated levels of his metabolism kick-in at full high-anxiety force; he was experiencing all the unpleasant bodily sensations at once.

When the Klingon ambassador engaged Dr. Cyl Thran knew things in the room were about to go south. It was clear to the Andorian that the Klingon ambassador was either an imposter, or was senile and Thran himself had never met a senile Klingon. He may have been just a cadet but he knew it was time to act. He motioned to the human security officer who was on Captain Sterling's flank to shield the captain, and Thran himself moved up behind the Klingon ambassador and stuck his phaser in the man's back.

"If I were you Ambassador, I would think very carefully about my next actions."

Even as he spoke the rest of the security team, seeing Thran's act were closing on the group with weapons drawn.

Everyone in the room froze, their attention drawn to the scene around K'vada. Everyone but Pasqual.

As one familiar with prestidigitation and stage magic, his favorite hobby, he was keenly aware of the effect of distraction and things that could misdirect one's attention. And so, while everyone else was indeed distracted by the vociferous confrontation with the Klingon, his own eyes went immediately around the room to observe the people disseminated inside, especially towards the other one suspicious character in the room.

The allegedly emotional Vulcan ambassador's aide.

Feeling the tip of a phaser thrust into his back, K’vada turned his attention back to Sterling and bellowed.

“What is the meaning of this Sterling? This is outrageous and insulting! I am an invited Ambassador who is now treated like a common criminal?”

K’vada was now more angered and agitated than before as he turned his head slightly to see out of the corner of his eye the Andorian holding the weapon in his back.

“You better command this Andorian petaQ to remove that weapon from my back before I snap his spine in half like a twig!” The Klingon roared, leaving question of his malicious intent.

The boasting of the Klingon ambassador did not distract Ray from his own target, but it did make him smile.

That I would like to see, he thought amusedly. Born of a savage, violent yet cold-blooded warrior race almost as strong as Vulcans, just as tough as Klingons and with faster reaction time than both, the Andorian, even one as young as the cadet was, undoubtebly counted among the toughest opponents a Klingon could ever hope to challenge.

That is... if he IS a Klingon... wondered the Orion about K'vada, having the same misgivings about the Vulcan aide he was observing discreetly.

Cyl took advantage of the attention drawn off of him and contacted the doctor down in sickbay.

In a whispered but anxious voice, he stated “Doctor Pender, I don’t have time to make it down to sickbay at the moment. We have a potentially dangerous stand-off occurring as we speak. Just confirm your findings and send a synopsis to my medical tricorder. I need those results immediately!”

“Understood Doctor Cyl. Standby… transmitting results… now.”

Cyl stood staring at the tricorder with the axiom of a watched pot never boils pervading his thoughts.

After what seemed like an eternity under the circumstances, the tricorder gave an almost imperceptible beep as the results were downloaded into his tricorder.

Cyl just stared for a moment as he re-examined the information.

“I’ll be damned…” was all that he murmured to himself.

Cyl then carefully stepped cautiously toward the captain. He was determined not to draw the attention back to himself, but he knew that he needed to share these results with him immediately.

As he arrived by the captain’s side, he just lifted the most critical bit of information from the tricorder within view of commanding officer.

Sterling averted his eyes from K’vada temporarily to the display of the tricorder and focused his attention on the prognosis:

Neural parasite detected

Despite the Klingon's vocal protest Cadet Thran didn't move a muscle. He knew the much older Klingon was no match for himself even if he attempted to break free it was almost certain that the Andorian would have him on the ground faster than he could blink.

"Orders Captain?" Thran asked calmly

Sterling pivoted his eyes from the tricorder back onto K’vada, with his peripheral sight focused on Thran.

Sterling knew that if this Klingon was indeed inhabited by the parasite that he would display and possess much greater physical strength than what anyone would normally expect; even though K’vada was rather elderly. Chances are that with his renewed vitality and strength, he could readily take on all of Thran’s security team; which Thran understandably would not be anticipating. The other consideration would be K’vada’s greater resistance to phaser fire as well. It was a delicate standoff to say the least since Sterling did not want to outwardly accuse the ambassador of anything at this point in time; which meant that no one else standing there in proximity to K’vada knew exactly what they may be facing; other than Doctor Cyl and himself.

He continued to study K’vada’s overall physical appearance as well which was much healthier and robust than typical of a Klingon his age. This was one of Sterling’s first clues that he noted after listening and seeing the ambassador’s peculiar behavior with Hartzer and himself; which was why he then began to question and test K’vada’s memory.

Without changing his stance or position in the slightest, Sterling calmly stated “Mister Thran, I don’t believe that Ambassador K’vada is quite feeling like himself at the moment. Please have your security team ready to respectfully escort him to sickbay.”

Looking directly at the Klingon postured angrily before him Sterling stated calmly “Ambassador, please allow Doctor Cyl to escort you down to sickbay. I would prefer that we conduct this procedure without incident, but obviously this decision is your choice as well.”

"Aye Sir," Thran responded to the captain's order "Ambassador, I am stepping back, but I warn you Sir do not make any sudden movements."

Thran stepped back toward Sterling, but his phaser was still pointed at the Klingon ambassador. He motioned to the security officers, three of them, who had come from the perimeter of the room and were now pointing phaser rifles at the K'Vada. They flanked the ambassador, not lowering their weapons and Thran tapped his combage.

"Thran to Security, additional teams to the conference hall immediately."

"Acknowledged" came the disembodied reply

As they waited for the ambassador to make his choice Thran knew that in the Andorian military they likely would have shot the Klingon by now. It was curious that Starfleet would choose to allow the man a choice though from what Thran had learned of humans they were much more diplomatic than his Andorian bretheren.

Ambassador K’vada crossed his muscular arms over his barreled chest and stood steadfastly in place as he blared in belligerent defiance.

“Dor-sho-gha! Are you petaQs completely delusional or are you all truly this incompetent?” the Klingon inquired; striving for the moment to keep his rage in check.

“There is nothing wrong with me Sterling, but it would seem that there is definitely some sort of deranged paranoia amongst all of you QI'yaH t’glas!”

With respiratory and pulmonary levels increasing, K’vada seethed in reaction to their request as he continued his scathing response.

“In case you inept toh-pas forgot, I spent enough time already in your sickbay when I arrived injured from the WovHagtaj. Your doctor and his team conducted all of their tests, examinations and treatments needed then… so I have no need or any intention of submitting myself to additional primitive examinations aboard this ship now or at any other time!”

Now there's a revealing slip of the tongue, noticed Pasqual as K'vada bellowed in what was nevertheless genuine anger.

Even with all the peaceful relations the Federation and the Klingon Empire had shared for over half that century now, Klingon medical science was still quite behind that of the Federation; not for any lack of technological or scientific capability, but simply because Klingons being Klingons, they just didn't believe much in those resources and advancements. The strong must survive, life is to be earned and fought for, dying of old age is the worst dishonor and so forth...

To hear a Klingon, of all people, qualify Federation medicine to be "primitive" was like a Starfleet officer claiming Klingon weapons were effete. It simply made no sense at all.

For a Klingon that is...

The Orion didn't have to share his observation though; he could see by his reaction that Sterling had caught the mistake as well.

Hearing K’vada’s ranting refusal followed by his inaccurate description of their sickbay and medical facilities seemed to further incriminate the Klingon’s overall medical condition from the captain’s perspective.

Nevertheless, in an attempt to maintain civility in their current deadlock, Sterling continued his mild-mannered dialogue with the ambassador.

“Come now K’vada, my medical crew has treated you commendably since we encountered you injured and relatively incoherent on the WovHagtaj. This team of doctors and nurses are the ones that attended to you there, then carefully brought you here aboard this ship … and continued to assist you in your swift recovery. Surely even under these circumstances you could recognize the quality of our medical facilities and medical staff here on the Icarus.”

As he spoke to the potentially infected ambassador, Sterling surreptitiously and quickly gestured another coded hand signal behind his back to Pasqual informing him of the neural parasite detected within the Klingon. Sterling also indicated to the counselor that he would then need to somehow get this message covertly to both Hartzer and Thran so that they too would know what they were potentially up against; without revealing any of this to the Klingon in question standing before them. Not an easy order to comply with in their given situation.

And would you like a hasperath with that? Ray almost wanted to signal back to his commanding officer's tall order. But Sterling was not looking at him anyway and there was no time to banter here.

Informing the Andorian security cadet was easy enough; Ray could simply move away and whisper towards Thran's ultrasensitive antennae and he alone would pick up his words... taking care of course to not go too near of the also very keen-earing Vulcans and Romulans. First officer Hartzer however was a problem. Iotians were no more perceptive than Humans were and she certainly did not know Morse code, handmade or otherwise.

The Orion would have to improvise. And fast.

While Sterling was still drawing the attention of K'vada, if not of the whole room, Pasqual moved behind Hartzer slightly to the side where also stood Cadet Thran and, with a swift, short and well hidden knee jolt inside the back of her own right knee, forced a reflex action of the articulation that suddenly buckled her entire leg from under her. The age-old schoolboy trick sent her toppling backward and into his waiting arms.

As expected, the sudden swaying of the woman caught the nearest people's attention and, for a moment, interrupted the ongoing exchange. Ray smiled charmingly as he firmly held Hartzer in his grip.

"Why, my dear Commander, I think you had a bit too much of that Romulan ale, no?"

Before she could answer or straighten herself up again, he then whispered into her ear.

"Mind parasite-infected Klingon."

The counselor took care to make his whisper audible only to her... and to the ultrasensitive Andorian right next to the both of them.

Hartzer promptly regained her posture and then readjusted her fedora on her head as she gave Pasqual a peculiar stare to that bizarre encounter; that is until she processed the whispered message covertly presented to her.

Dat’s why dis palooka’s all hopped up… he’s got a bug in dere callin’ all da shots. Now… I’m on da trolley, the first officer now realized what was going on with K’vada and why Sterling was playin’ 20 questions.

She then also understood that the counselor was recommending that she feign being a bit intoxicated in regards to her recent loss of balance.

“Woah” she began, in her somewhat exaggerated manner “I suppose dat I’m on a little toot and a bit zozzled” as she concluded with a giggle.

“I guess dat nifty moonshine took a bit longer ta kick in after all.”

But to complete the dissimulation, Pasqual audibly added to his whisper:

"If it is not too forward from a lowly Lieutenant Commander like me, of course."

Hartzer added a smile and a tip of her hat.

“You slay me Counselor… Thanks fer rescuin’ a damsel in distress” she stated adding a slight bow with another chuckle to her act.

Pasqual’s improvised sham would let everyone believe that he had made some... private... suggestion to her, so that there would be no suspicion regarding his whispering, especially from K'vada. With all that had been going on, he had little doubt that they would however put two and two together; Thran would be ready and the simulated tipsiness he suggested to the first officer of the Icarus could even give her a believable reason to excuse herself and go do whatever she would need to face the insidious threat now revealed to them.

Hopefully... he thought yet again.

“Now if you’ll excuse little ol’ me… I think I need to go powder my nose”

With all eyes now watching her, Hartzer turned and while incorporating all her feminine prowess flicked her blond locks below her hat and swaggered her way toward the exit.

K’vada just stared at the unusual spectacle that had just transpired, bewildered at what was going on around him. Nothing was making sense.

“What the hell is going on here Sterling?”

Looking around suspiciously at each of the officers poised defensively encircling him, K’vada blustered “You are all the ones acting strangely and yet you have the gall to demand that I go to sickbay? Well… you can forget it! I’ll be in my quarters!”

Hartzer swiftly exited out the VIP hall and immediately informed the security guards standing at their assigned duty post near the perimeter of the entrance of the situation occurring with K’vada and others.

The infuriated klingon ambassador then turned and began to storm out toward the exit.

As K'Vada moved so did Cadet Thran. He stepped in front of the aged Klingon Ambassador leveling the phaser at him and dialing up the higher setting he knew would be required to take down the parasite fueled Klingon.

"I'm sorry Sir, but that is not an option."

As Thran spoke another team of security officers entered the room equipped with compression phaser rifles and seeing the cadet's position they secured the door and leveled their weapons toward K'Vada.

K’vada froze in his tracks for a moment as he gazed around and realized that his options to leave had now been checkmated by the additional security team guarding the door with weapons aimed directly at him, along with those already surrounding him poised to respond.

The fury in him began to rage as he yelled and pointed an accusatory finger at each officer encircling him.

“You pathetic tozahs! None of you worthless petaQs are creditable enough to even imagine stepping one foot in Sto-vo-kor! You will all be damned to be ferried away on your equivalent of the Barge of the Dead... where you will spend eternity in shame and disgrace on Gre'thor.”

He then stopped moving and stared directly at the Andorian attempting to block his passage.

“I… on the other hand… am assured my rightful place in Sto-vo-kor… despite any attempts by you pathetic targs to stop me.”

With that conviction established, K’vada charged full force directly at the armed Andorian cadet.

 

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