Helping History

Posted on Mar 12, 2015 @ 2:18pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Edited on on Mar 12, 2015 @ 2:18pm

Mission: Limbo

"HELPING HISTORY"

(Continued from "Thomas And The Giggle Brigade")

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Location: USS Phoenix
Stardate: [2.15]0312.1715
Scene: Science Centre, Deck 8 (saucer section)


Thomas Varn stood outside the door to the primary science centre, just staring at the seam where the two doors met. It had been something of a job just to find the place - the ship was enormous - and he was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from the notice across the doors that read PRIMARY SCIENCE CENTRE, superimposed over the fleet's Science insignia, a Starfleet delta with a pair of circles on opposite axes. With all the trouble he had been through in his life lately, here he was again, about to tale a step back into that world. Had the ship been less sparsely populated, this moment might have been broken before now, but the great emptiness across the decks seemed to be consecrating the hole in Thomas's heart.

That emptiness stopped at the Science centre. There were over thirty science personnel on the Phoenix, most of them survivors from the Discovery, and although power was at a premium, some of the science crew had overlapping skills that made them invaluable as backup engineers. Beyond these doors, the science centre was a hive of activity by comparison to the rest of the ship.

The moment ended. The doors hissed open and a young woman strode out, eyes downward as she scrolled through a PADD. She was dark-haired and pretty, and wearing a blue-banded black jumpsuit with a single golden rank pip on her collar.

Thomas neatly sidestepped her. The sudden movement in her peripheral vision startled the woman - she held up her PADD like it was a shield, giving voice to a noise that was somewhere between a shriek and a laugh. "You startled me!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," said Thomas meaningfully.

The woman was looking at him sidelong. "I'm sorry, Mister Varn, but the science centre is off-limits to civilians."

"You know me?"

The woman indicated the bulge is his overcoat, where his wings pressed uncomfortably against his back. "Everyone knows you. You're Thomas Varn." She shrugged. "I'm Ensign Trimble. Can I help you?"

"I have an appointment with the Chief Science Officer," said Thomas. "Is he in?"

The woman chuckled. "Yes. He came back aboard about an hour ago. He got married on Limbo. Can you believe it?"

"Married?"

"Yes. Everyone's talking about it. Solomon Arn and Dido Loftus finally did the deed. They've been together since forever. Some sort of wedding chapel on the station."

Thomas thought of Sylvia. Right now she was in Engineering, monitoring ship's systems with Cindy Rochemonte. "I'll go in, then," he said.

"Suit yourself. Say, is everything alright with you? You seem kind of down."

"I'll be alright."

"Okay." Stephanie Trimble gave Thomas one more once-over before moving away and leaving him in front of the open doors.

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Location: Limbo
Scene: Isolated corner of the Dungheap


The Sixth Drake checked his tricorder one more time to make sure he was in the correct location. The data on the screen was more precious than all the latinum on Ferenginar, and he wanted to be absolutely certain he did this correctly. Here in the Dungheap, one person was not likely to attract attention, and especially not in this alleyway behind a row of tenement rooms. The alleyway terminated in an overflow grille for rubbish, and the smell was horrendous. Maintenance droids didn't come this way much.

As per the guide on the tricorder, he carefully interfaced the device with his communicator, setting the communicator to a specific subspace frequency in the ultra-low range. From this location, and using this frequency, he had been told that he would be able to make an anonymous transmission that had a virtually zero chance of being detected.

He took a deep breath. Having quietly slipped off the Phoenix he had made his way here, guided by old instructions. It was time to help history align itself. Activating the communicator, he spoke into it. "This is a transmission for Rawyvin Seth, who is aboard the space station Limbo at this moment in time. Mister Seth, if you can hear me, please respond."

Drake listened intently, but there was nothing. No reply. At the top of the alley, an alien wino stumbled by, slurring a song about the red skies of his distant homeworld.

Drake touched the communicator again. "This is a transmission for Rawyvin Seth. Mister Seth, I know you can hear me. I know you are aboard Limbo. I know you are here searching for a Vulcan psionic named Selyara. Believe me when I say that your cause would be much aided by answering me."

Again there was nothing, and Drake's hopes faded. He silently cursed himself, wondering what had gone wrong. Perhaps he had erred with the tricorder interface, or perhaps his information was out of date. It was twenty-eight years old, after all.

Then a voice, cold as an Arctic wind, floated out of the communicator on his chest. [[With whom am I speaking?]]

Drake's mind whirled. The tricorder was flashing a message insistently as it analysed the voice pattern on the other end of the frequency. Elated, Drake watched as the message blinked rapidly at him - MATCH FOUND. It was Rawyvin Seth, harbinger of history.

He took a moment to compose himself. "Who I am is not important, Mister Seth. What I can do for you is. I am here to deliver a message. Are you listening?"

There was a pregnant pause on the line. [[I deplore skullduggery. Why don't we meet face to face? Then you can pass on whatever message you have for me.]]

"Be quiet, Mister Seth," said Drake forcefully, anxious to complete his mission. "By now your attempt to trace this call has failed. So listen. I know you are hunting the psionic Selyara. You are not the only one. The crew of the Phoenix has arrived aboard Limbo and are conducting their own search. Furthermore, a team of Romulan commandos are aboard the station, specifically looking for you."

[[This does not interest me, Mister Shadow Man. Your message better get a lot more interesting in its next sentence.]]

Drake's voice had a hard edge to it. "Finding Selyara will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. You need to dramatically narrow your odds. There is someone aboard the Phoenix who can help you do that. At thirteen-hundred hours the day after tomorrow, you must intercept this man as he leaves the Phoenix with a device in his possession you will need. With this device, you will be able to pick Selyara out of a crowd. Your odds will have narrowed dramatically."

There was more silence on the line. Drake watched the top of the alley anxiously. He had a momentary vision of a dark figure appearing around the corner and advancing on him, drawing a long-bladed knife from a hidden sheath. He swallowed hard. Rawyvin Seth was intimidating, but his part in history had already been played, and he was nowhere near this alley.

[[Very well, Mister Shadow Man. Who is this person from the Phoenix?]]

Drake exhaled audibly. "It is a Trill named Solomon Arn. He will - "

But Rawyvin Seth had cut the connection. Drake leaned back, taking in great gulps of filthy air, feeling his heart hammering in his chest at the successful conclusion of his mission.

The wheel of history was grinding slowly, but as of now, it would spin a little faster.

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Location: USS Phoenix
Scene: Science Centre


When Thomas walked in, he looked around for a moment, feeling the familiarity of such a place reconnect with him. There were multiple monitoring stations set up along the walls, there were biobeds, scanning booths, work counters, as well as rows of shelves lined with all manner of solutions. Compared to the Pendragon's science centre, it was bigger, but not especially well stockpiled. Thomas guessed that the staff on the Phoenix were having to make do with what they had, given their rapid escape from Earth.

Solomon Arn appeared in the doorway of his office, and he advanced on Thomas, extending a hand. "Mister Varn? Welcome. I'm Solomon Arn."

Thomas shook the Trill's hand. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Not at all. Come on in, let's talk." Thomas followed the Trill into the office, a perfectly neat and tidy space uncluttered with PADDs or personal effects. "Take a seat."

"Thank you. Before I forget, congratulations on your marriage."

Solomon's eyes twinkled. "I see word is spreading through the ship. Oh well, it's no secret. My new wife and I have been together for a long time. It seemed like the logical next step in our relationship."

"I wish you many happy years together,"said Thomas meaningfully.

"Thank you." Solomon sat down opposite Thomas at the deck. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Thomas leaned forward. "I've been thinking about our mission aboard Limbo," he said. "With over a million people of all species living on Limbo, finding one Vulcan-Betazoid female is going to be next to impossible, yes?"

"It will be difficult and take time, yes."

"If we had a specific way to look for Selyara's own life-signs, we could shred the time it takes to find her."

Solomon nodded. "Yes we could. But the Phoenix's sensors cannot be fine-tuned like that. Shipboard scanners are like king-size duvets, not facecloths."

"We can create our own scanning device. We can modify a medical or engineering tricorder."

Solomon frowned. "Go on."

"If this Selyara person has a Starfleet medical record, we could access it. Even if she doesn't, we can still calibrate the tricorder to scan for a Vulcan-Betazoid hybrid. She might be in disguise, but nobody can change their physiological makeup."

Solomon nodded. "We could attempt it on a regular TR-590. The range would be very limited. I'm thinking no more than half a kilometre if we're very lucky. The high-resolution scanner would have to be used to physically scan a subject."

"I've run the idea by Doctor Foster, and he's willing to work with us on it. And once we've created one, we can make more," said Thomas. "It could give our away teams the edge they need."

Solomon smiled. "I'll clear it with the captain. Nice work, Mister Varn."

A warm glow bubbled up in Thomas's breast. He returned Solomon's smile modestly. "Thank you, Lieutenant." It felt good to be doing something again.

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Location: Limbo
Scene: Orion Mercantile Association, Interior


Rawyvin Seth deactivated his communicator while Evangeline Montoya looked at him in askance. They were alone in this waiting room - Harad-Sar had excused himself a short while ago when he was notified of other guests looking to meet him. He had promised to be return as soon as possible, and the comfort in this waiting room was set up to keep a guest busy. There was fresh food on a table next to a replicator, there was an entire library of music or VR movies to look at. There was even a brochure of 'companions' that were available to make any wait seem shorter - male and female of many species.

None of it interested Rawyvin now. Ever since the transmission from his mysterious new contact, he was itching to get away from here.

"That was an interesting call," said Montoya.

Rawyvin drummed his fingers on the wall. "It was, wasn't it? I have no idea who it could be, though, and that irritates me no end." He watched Montoya absorb his words, enjoying the uncertainty in her eyes.

"So what's out next move?"

"Maybe I'll finally kill you right here and let the Orions scrape up the mess," said Rawyvin, for fun, watching a flicker of fear flit across her eyes like a shadow. "But alas, I doubt there is the time for that. I think, my dear, that unless Harad-Sar returns presently, we will abandon this place. Either way we will begin observations and research on this USS Phoenix."

"Will we be looking for this Solomon Arn person?" asked Montoya.

Rawyvin cracked a knuckle, making a non-committal noise. "Let us just see if our green-skinned host returns to us." He sat back in his plush chair, invisible wheels turning in his head.

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Location: USS Phoenix
Scene: Docking Bay -> Turbolift


Michael Turlogh Kane left Kajek behind at the docking bay. The big Nausicaan hadn't spoken to him on the way back, the words of his mistress's warnings still ringing in Kane's ears. When the docking hatch rolled closed, Kane lifted his head. "Kane to bridge."

[[Bridge. Byte here.]]

"I'm back aboard the ship and on my way to the bridge. Report, Lieutenant."

[[No updates from Commander Jos or Commander Crichton, sir. Lieutenant Arn wishes to speak with you at your convenience.]]

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Kane out." When the connection closed, Kane spoke again. "Kane to Arn."

[[Arn here,]] came the Trill's voice. [[Go ahead,sir.]]

Kane moved away from the docking bay, heading to the nearest turbolift. "You wanted to speak to me, Lieutenant?"

There was a rustling on the other end of the line, as Solomon picked up a PADD. [[Yes, sir. Captain, I have a proposal that could greatly assist our away teams in the search for Selyara.]]

"I'm all ears."

[[Myself, Doctor Foster, and Thomas Varn have come up with an idea of modifying a tricorder to specifically search for Selyara's bio-signs. We all agree that it's possible, and with your permission, we'd like to begin on constructing a prototype immediately.]]

The doors of the turbolift hissed closed as Kane entered it. "Bridge." With a smooth motion, the turbolift glided upward. "Is that even possible, Lieutenant? It was my understanding that shipboard sensors cannot be fine-tuned to that degree."

[[We are going to modify a medical tricorder. The trick will be in locating a viable copy of Selyara's medical records. Doctor Foster is running a search but because Selyara has been out of the service for so long, her records have apparently been deleted. If this is the case, then we'll have to do a delicate job calibrating the tricorder to search for mixed Vulcan and Betazoid lifesigns.]]

"What are your expectations for this device, if you can get it to work?"

[[Well, we would have a scanner that would specifically be looking for the one person we are on Limbo to find,]] said Solomon thoughtfully. [[The range would be limited, no more than a few hundred metres. But that might be better than nothing, and once we have the prototype,we can refine the design.]]

Kane thought for a moment. Limbo was a great heaving sea of people, and somewhere amongst them were Rawyvin Seth and a Romulan commando team, lurking like sharks in the shoals. If Admiral Radaik was serious about her threat that the Empire could arrive at any moment and obliterate the space station, then they would have to move quickly. Anything they could to find Selyara would help.

With a flush of fear, he realised that by doing so, he was hastening his own doom. Drake's prophecy lingered long in the back of his brain.

When he spoke, it was altogether more quietly. "Team up with Doctor Foster and Mister Varn and get to work immediately. Inform me as soon as the prototype is ready."

[[Understood, Captain. Arn out.]]

As the turbolift whirred its way upward through the veins of the dark and silent ship, Kane folded his arms and thought about how events fell into place.

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NRPG: Dialogue heavy, but now we're getting meaty! Another Limbo Plot Threads coming with this post... ;)

Justin helped with the opening scene and the idea for the scanner is his. Thanks Justin!


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS PHOENIX


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117

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