History In Hand

The doors to the holodeck swished open and inside the darkened room stood the Chief of Security.  Bur’ar was unusually tall for a Klingon, yet had the traditional gruff demeanor of a tireless warrior.  He stood with arms crossed behind a table with an assortment of pistols arrayed.

Kathryn felt lucky to have Bur’ar aboard Solaris.  He had escorted her on many away missions over the two years he served with her and she trusted his judgment without reservation.  They didn’t commiserate frequently though not against her own attempts to get to know the senior staff.  She walked up to the table confidently.  “Chief.”

Saluting dutifully, Bur’ar replied, “Captain, I hope you have kept your aim true?”

She smiled.  “Of course!  I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the ship’s sharpshooter.”

The corners of Bur’ar’s lips lifted slightly from the compliment.  “Indeed.”  He looked to the weapons on the table.  “Which pistol would you care to test your skills with today?”

Kathryn lifted a standard issue phaser and pointed it down the cavernous room with an eye closed, aiming at an imaginary target.  “Tell me Lieutenant, have you considered the aesthetic of the Federation phaser pistol?”

Bur’ar lifted one and contemplated as he turned it over in his hand.  “Yes.  Compared to the standard Klingon disruptor, the grip causes unnecessary strain to hand and wrist muscles.”  He also pointed the Phaser into the room to mimic Kathryn, and then lowered his arm but kept his aim to the imaginary target.  “The design is certainly functional for short-duration use.  As you know, my preference is for rifle variants in a protracted engagement.”

She nodded in agreement and looked over the gleaming white pistol, even in the subdued light.  “Would you say it is an elegant weapon?”

“It matches the Federation aesthetic.”

Rolling her eyes, Kathryn giggled softly.  “You really don’t care too much about it, do you.” 

“No, sir.”

Kathryn reached behind her back and pulled out another pistol she had secreted.  It was greyish-silver with rounded corners along a rectangular action.  The grip extended at an angle from the front end of the action.  She proudly displayed it to Bur’ar, who simply stared at the device.  “Are you familiar with this?”

“It’s a Type II Phaser Compression pistol, Federation issued in 2275, discontinued in 2285.  I’m impressed you have one.”

“Thank you.  I found it from a trader of-sorts on Nimbus III, who specialized in exotic items.  I’m not an aficionado, but this style always appealed to me, when I studied military history, of course.  To me, this weapon hails from the frontier-like reality of the 23rd century Federation: familiar yet new, safe yet dangerous, unique yet functional.”  She lifted it with both hands, signaling a readiness to use it.  “I did have to replace the emitters, which was a technical challenge.”  She looked up to the tall Klingon.  “I’ve been practicing with this.”

Bur’ar looked skeptical.  “If you wish, we can begin the test.”

Kathryn smirked and she activated the phaser.  It primed with a hum that faded after a few seconds, and then pressed a button on the pistol’s display to its lowest setting.  “Mind a few warm-up shots first?”

The Klingon nodded and tapped a few commands into a PADD resting on the table.  The lights dimmed further as Kathryn stepped toward the middle of the room where a blue ring appeared on the floor.  Five yellow fist-sized spheres materialized ten meters away from Kathryn and within seconds were orbiting eye-level to her and equidistant to each other.

A buzzer activated and Kathryn aimed her pistol.  An orange-colored beam sizzled and growled as it connected with a sphere, which flashed before dissipating.  The remaining targets increased in velocity, yet maintaining their orbit.  Kathryn tracked another sphere until another beam lanced the target.  Three more shots; Kathryn missing the last. 

The lights of the room bloomed slightly signaling the exercise was complete.  Kathryn looked to Bur’ar, who nodded with quiet acceptance.

“You did well … for a warm-up … with an antiquated weapon.”

Kathryn smiled mischievously.  “That’s high praise coming from you, Lieutenant.”

Bur’ar huffed.  “The test begins when you are ready.  Do you wish to continue with that weapon?”

“I was holding back, you know.”

The lights dimmed, and from the darkness Bur’ar replied, “prove it.”

---
Cast For Crew:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Bur'ar - David Ramsey

Was She Wrong?

“Prime Directive, bah,” grumbled the senior Klingon.  Grannon Trex took a swig from the flagon directly.  His mood soured as he placed the container back on the table to look at Admiral Tracy Kent and then pointed a finger at her.  “You know, there are still circles within the Empire that believes the Federation should be conquering planets.  Starfleet is a formidable navy, I should know.”  His aging, yet clean, beard dangled from his frown.

The Admiral smirked before taking a sip from her wine glass.  The flickering light from the torches on the outside deck reflected from her long, straight dark black hair.  “Maybe so … to be fair, there are circles within Starfleet that believe the same.”

Opposite the Admiral sat Commodore Matthew Calgar.  His barrel-chested build was betrayed by the sudden uneasiness of the conversation.  Matthew reached for his own glass and poured some of Grannon’s effective drink.  “Come now, let’s not change the mood of the evening.”

Kathryn dodged Calgar’s verbal negotiation and glared across the table to the venerable warrior.  “I’m curious General, what would you do if you stumbled upon a pre-warp civilization?  Are they ripe for submission or destruction in the name of glory?”

Tension at the table suddenly became thick, the surrounding patrons of the restaurant unaware of the discussions from the veterans in the corner.  Tracy looked between Grannon and Kathryn with a growing smile and then placed her glass quietly on the table.  Calgar’s discomfort continued and he placed both hands to either side of his plate, as if ready to separate the Klingon and Human from conflict.

Grannon leaned forward, the leather of his ceremonial jacket creaking as he moved.  “Admiral Beringer, you assume too much.”

An eyebrow rose on Kathryn’s forehead and she leaned forward as well.  “You have not answered the question.”

After a few seconds, the Klingon burst into laughter and slapped the table, capturing the other patron’s attention.  “Well done, Admiral!”  He gulped from his cup as he sat back into the chair.  “I accept your challenge.”  With that comment, everyone else returned to their hushed conversations.

Wiping his mouth, Grannon explained, “In the older days, before the Cardassian War, Captains were left to their own discretions unless ordered by the Council.  The Empire would not be what it is without expansion, and sometimes there are … growing pains.  You should know this?”

Matthew sighed with relief and Tracy calmly reached for her glass.  Kathryn continued, “That’s what history would say, but have you faced the decision?”

Grannon shook his head.  “Should I consider myself fortunate?  I’ve read some examples of when Starfleet handled pre-warp cultures and not all of those instances had a merry outcome.  So, is it flawed?”

Kathryn glanced at Tracy, who was inspecting her nails on one hand, clearly not interested in the conversation.  Looking to Matthew, the Commodore was drinking from his cup and did so for a few seconds.  She returned to the Klingon and shrugged.  “It’s relative.  Count yourself lucky.”

“Oh, really,” Grannon looked surprised.  “This night has been filled with tales of days long past.  Please, regale us with another story.”

Looking down at her plate, the half-eaten steak beckoned.  Kathryn cut a slice and chewed it quickly.

“Back in 2410, my ship was in the Delta Quadrant conducting chart work near the Outward Fringes.  We captured subspace distortions emanating from a nearby system and we bounced to the source: two planets seemed to be engaged in a planetary war.  Long-range scans suggested the cultures did not use warp-drives, at least not by Federation metrics.”

The others started eating while she spoke.  “We did discover they were able to harness nuclear power and their ships were fueled with it.”

Kathryn paused and then sawed into her steak.  “Several areas on both planets were scarred from nuclear detonations.  Clearly, they were at war against each other.”

Tracy lifted her glass to drink.  “If I had to guess, you logged the tragedy and moved on.”

Matthew sat straight still chewing on pasta.  “Is that what you would have done, Admiral Kent?”

Smiling from the question, Tracy nodded.  “There is an idea that Captains have a moral obligation to countermand the Prime Directive if a species faces extinction.  War is not a cause to go against the Directive, although it is terrible to witness, I suppose.”

Grannon growled.  “I prefer to let the dear Admiral finish her saga.”

Tracy lifted her glass to salute and acknowledge the Klingon General’s request.

Kathryn finished chewing.  “Tracy is technically correct.  We had no idea how much further the war was to continue, yet we noticed a flotilla in the heliosphere with nuclear-tipped projectiles inbound to a planet.  I decided to use a tight-band subnucleonic beam to the projectiles in an attempt to neutralize the atomic matrix of the cores and to remain hidden.  From long-range the effect was mostly successful.

Matthew raised eyebrows.  “Mostly?”

“Yes.”  Kathryn became somber.  “A few made planetfall.”  She looked into her lap and after a small sniffle looked up.  “It seems the waiter is a little late with refills?  I’ll go see the maiter d.”  Standing, she pushed a strand of grey and burgundy hair, and excused herself from the table.

Tracy shook her head and loudly landed her glass on the table with some impatience.  “My queue to drop the conversation must have been too subtle, gentlemen.”

Grannon was startled.  “What do you mean?”

Looking to the General, Tracy’s eyes narrowed.  “Kathryn followed the Prime Directive by leaving the system after she failed to stop the missile wave from destroying several cities.  Several more cities were still intact from her subtle action.  There are always winners and losers in war and someone was going to win.  It’s not Starfleet’s place to interfere in that tragedy because there was going to be a winner.”

She paused for some effect before continuing.  “So when I ‘guessed’ what Kathryn would do, it is because that is what happened.  Looking at options, the only proper course of action was to index the system, document readings, and catalogue actions taken … then leave. “

Matthew looked around and then leaned forward to loudly whisper.  “You mean she just left the system without further investigation?!”

Tracy nodded, “in order to follow the Directive, yes.”

---
Cast For Crew:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Matthew Calgar - Conleth Hill
Grannon Trex - Orlando Jones
Tracy Maxwell Kent - Monica Belluci

To Walk The Plank

The Chancellor of Trell, Wushar, stood on the transporter pad with a bemused smirk having just asked a question to Captain Kathryn Beringer.  Metallic trinkets in muted colors clinked as arms disappeared into the folds of his deep black floor-length robe.

She could not control her surprise.  “You can’t be serious, we are talking about the Borg!”

“I am very serious.  Thanks to the Federation, several members of the Perfect want to make a religious pilgrimage.”

Kathryn looked away to consider the Chancellor’s request, yet could only think of obstacles.  “Forgive me Chancellor, but -”

Wushar chuckled to interrupt.  “I thought this might happen, so allow me to be blunt: fulfill this appeal and the Trellans will join the Federation without further demands or concessions.”

“This is a very grave demand, don’t you think?”

“Maybe from your point of view, Captain.”

“Definitely from my point of view.”

The Chancellor scoffed.  “I hope you are not trying to impose Federation values upon us this late in the process?  The Trellans certainly welcome the benefits of membership without … strain.”  Believing he had the upper hand, he became smug.   “Correct me if I’m wrong Captain, but aren’t our Dilithium mines why the Federation wants a foothold in this region of the Delta Quadrant?”

Kathryn politely smiled.  “The Dilithium is an interesting fact of your beautiful world.”

“Excellent.  Please take time to consider the request.  I’m sure the pious people of Trell would appreciate the results.”  Wushar looked to the wall behind Kathryn as a sign he was finished with the conversation.  “Until we meet again, Captain.”

Turning to the transporter chief, Kathryn nodded.  The Chancellor was bathed in blue light and disappeared.

+++

Kathryn exited the Holodeck panting and dried sweat from her face with a towel.   She stopped in the hallway when she sensed another person standing nearby.

Christa Harrington stood almost eye level to Kathryn and wore a bright toothy smile.  “Good morning, Cap!”

Returning the smile and wiping the towel across her arms, Kathryn nodded for them to walk down the hallway and took steps from the Holodeck.  Christa caught up and matched Kathryn’s quicken pace.  “Counselor, nice to see you are in good spirits.”

“Always, O Captain, my Captain.”

Draping the towel over the opposite shoulder to Christa, Kathryn replied, “indeed.  To what do I owe the pleasure?  We are not due for a chat until next week, if I recall correctly.”

Christa placed her hands behind her back as they walked.  “True.  I hope you will forgive me, Captain, but there is some scuttlebutt about the Trellans, so I thought to check in on you.”

Rolling her eyes, Kathryn offered, “Their ‘walk-away’ condition to joining the Federation is … obtuse.”

“Well said, sir.”

Kathryn stopped and looked at Christa, annoyed by the retort.  Another crewmember dodged past the pair standing in the middle of the hallway.  Christa still wore an infectious smile.

Christa shrugged, “it’s true!”

After a few seconds, Kathryn started smiling as well.  Walking again at a more relaxed pace, annoyance returned to Kathryn’s demeanor as she recalled the Chancellor’s parting words.  “Whoever thought delivering a group of religious pilgrims to Borg space could stall a negotiation.”

Christa nodded at the declaration.  “What do you plan to do?”

Kathryn slowed her pace and placed her hands behind her back in contemplation.  “The Trellans have built a spiritual following around the Borg and the Cooperative is not an option for them; something about a ‘false path’.”

“So, Is this an unreasonable request?”

Kathryn shook her head.  “It’s all relative.  From where I stand, the Borg continues to be the single greatest threat to the galaxy.  Yet, I’ve been instructed that the Dilithium ore found on the planet this deep in the Delta Quadrant is a resource Starfleet does not want to lose.”

Christa nodded.  “And the price bothers you?”

“You and I know what happens when someone becomes assimilated.  It’s a cost some Trellans want to go through!”

The pair reached an intersection.  Kathryn backed onto a wall and crossed her arms, looking down at the floor.  She then extended both arms as if to start juggling ideas.  “On the surface, the Federation’s goal is clear: continued expansion into the Delta Quadrant.  The Trellans want to join the Federation.  Their sovereignty as a member, especially as a prospective member,  is paramount.”  She reached for rank pips on a uniform she was not wearing.

The counselor knew that was a sign Kathryn was deep in though.  Christa rocked on her heels for several seconds waiting to see if Kathryn added more.  After a few more seconds, she stopped and suggested, “It seems to me you have made a decision.”

Kathryn sighed and pushed away from the wall, walking toward a turbolift.  Christa followed.  The Captain looked over her shoulder and declared, “I am being ordered to sacrifice some conviction and it does not feel good.”

---
Cast for crew:
Kathryn Beringer - Katheryn Winnick
Christa Harrington - Emily Bett Rickards
Chancellor Wushar - Jeff Goldblum

A Fool's Errand

Unofficial Literary Challenge 33 - Prompt 1 Fleet Week

---

Jim Bushel looked into his drink. The Andorian whiskey was reportedly very strong and its deep red color was a warning toward its potency. The Bolian bartender refused Jim’s request for a larger cup on the grounds to protect his own and other patron’s well-being. The cup was larger than a shot glass and made of silver-coated metal, the preferred container for the whiskey. Jim gulped, counted to three, and then took a sip. The liquor clawed its way down his throat and annihilated whatever was in his stomach. The result being a coughing fit that made Jim’s eyes water.

The bartender grinned as he handed Jim a cloth. “You were warned, Lieutenant.”

Jim accepted the cloth and wiped his eyes and mouth, nodding regretfully. “It was worth it”, he choked out. Looking away into the maw of Club 42’s dining area, Jim wanted to see who was watching his debacle. A few tables were occupied by various species wearing Starfleet uniforms and almost all the other patrons returned to their own business, their conversations clearly interrupted. Behind him was the exit from Club 42 that lead into the main gallery of Earth Space Dock.

The bartender grabbed a glass and started cleaning it, the way bartenders do to look busy. “So, what has you tempting fate?”

Clearing his throat, Jim replied with some embarrassment, “typical girl problems.”

The Bolian nodded with the wisdom of a sage. “It must be serious if you want to drown in liquid death.”

The Lieutenant lifted the glass as if to take another casual sip and paused. “I broke up with my fiancé last week when we docked.”

After a few seconds of contemplation, the bartender commanded, “have another sip. If separating from a loved one is ‘typical’, then I need to find another job.”

Jim smiled and then counted to three before half-emptying the glass. Less liquid this time, but it scorched down just the same. Being more prepared, possibly because the liquor already damaged his internal organs, his coughing was more subdued and manageable. He smacked his lips with a grimace, and then looked toward the dance room to his left. The area was in a separate part of Club 42 and was separated by a force field that severely dampened the music flooding the room. For him in the bar area, the music could be heard but was muffled, yet the tune could be discerned. Exiting the dance floor and through the force field walked three women; a Human, Talaxian and Andorian. Each wore off-duty clothing of various colors, styles and skin revelations and all three laughed as if sharing the punch line to a joke. They headed for the main doorway.

Jim recognized all three from his ship, but the Human captured his attention. He turned to the bartender and excused himself. Tugging on his own shirt, as he is used to with his uniform, he tried to casually walk toward the exit and matched speed so as to meet the women. Without turning his head, Jim looked toward the group to see if they noticed him. Jim started to feel dread about his decision to meet them. Yet, he was committed by now and persevered by looking casually toward them and then washed a bright smile over his face while waving.

“Claire, hello!”

The group stopped and their collective mirth faded slightly, which heightened Jim’s feeling of impending doom. The Andorian had whispered something and Claire shook her head slightly. Looking back to Jim, she smiled and replied, “hello Lieutenant. I’m sorry we didn’t see you earlier. Have you been at the Club long?”

The potent alcohol must have started affecting Jim: her voice was warm and inviting to hear. Rich, red colored lips pulled into a polite smile. Long, full brown hair flowed over her shoulders, they being bare from the strapless and loose-fitting blouse Claire wore. The skirt hugged her legs halfway down toned thighs with shiny smooth legs.

Jim scratched the back of his head to try to relax. “Uh, no, not long. I was just here for a drink.”

After an eternal second of silence between them, Claire raised eyebrows and looked to her friends. “So, we were about to leave-“

“Ah, yeah, about that,” Jim blurted out. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Shifting her weight to one side, Claire crossed arms. “Sure.”

Jim looked at the other women who was looking at Claire disapprovingly. He cleared his throat. “Maybe in private?”

Claire looked to her friends and nodded. As if they were communicating telepathically, the two other women shrugged and left Claire in Club 42.

After a few more seconds watching the others exit, Jim turned to Claire and invited her to sit at a nearby table.

Claire gently waved away the offer, “it’s getting a little late, I’m sorry. What’s on your mind?”

“Ah, yes. Well, I … I have not seen you in a few of weeks and so … how are you doing?”

“I’m doing well,” she chuckled nervously.

“Good, me too.”

Claire looked skeptical. “Oh, really?”

Jim blushed. “Well, yes, I suppose.” He looked to the bartender quickly and noticed the Bolian was staring at them as he cleaned a glass the way bartenders do to look busy. Turning back to Claire, he knew the conversation was strained and pushed away from small talk. “Look, I would like to explain myself. Would you be willing to talk about it over a drink?”

“Tonight? Like, now?”

"Oh, no no! I meant sometime soon. Tomorrow?”

Claire looked surprised at first, and then her affect became neutral again. She looked out the doors from Club 42 and noticed her friends were watching from the outside. “Um, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Nodding, Jim’s hopes were struck by a verbal phaser shot. “Is it because of Mallory?”

Claire looked down to the floor. “I wish it were less obvious. I mean, I am her roommate after all.” 

Jim tried to salvage some dignity. “I know. I just felt you and I had good rapport. I thought … you know … there was something-“

“No, Jim. I’m sorry if you felt that way. We all became friends because you were with Mallory. But she is my friend, and breaking off a year-long engagement with her is not-,“ Claire paused as she bit her bottom lip. “I don’t mean to take sides, but … I’m not really your friend. You know what I mean?”

The words were a torpedo to Jim’s fledgling hopes. He resigned to the events that lead to this moment. “I understand. I’m so sorry.”

Claire looked sympathetic. “I’m not the one you should apologize too. But I know you already have to Mallory.” She turned and walked away.

Jim felt embarrassed as he trudged back to the bar and reached for his drink. The bartender snatched it away with one hand and replaced it with a cup of cold water from the other hand in one fluid motion. “You’ll need that, if my suspicions are correct.”

---

Cast for crew:
Jim Bushel - Jason Ritter
Claire McKenzie – Hayley Orrantia
Bartender - Conan O'Brian
Talaxian friend - Female street extra 1
Andorian friend - Female street extra 2

Mentioned but not seen:
Mallory Aralla - Alexandra Daddario

Copy Kathy

Copy Kathy

The doors to Sick Bay open and Doctor Annika Kramer walks out. Her affect is blank until the doors close. She looks back to the doors and shakes her head before turning to face Captain Beringer and First Officer Ythysi. “Bad news or good news first?

The other officers look at each other before responding as if communicating with facial expressions first. Kathryn replies, “Bad news, I suppose. It’s better to get that out of the way.”

Annika sighs. “She has no idea how she got here. It’s as if, in a blink of an eye, she was on the bridge and then in your quarters.”

Kathryn crossed her arms.

Anthi’s antennae twitched slightly. “And the good news?”

“She is a perfect copy of Kathryn, physically, mentally, biologically, psychologically, even chronologically. Frankly Captain, if you died right now, no one would know the woman in Sick Bay,” she thumbed to the doors behind her, “is not … you.

With one hand, Kathryn rubbed on the rank pips on her collar before responding. “The bottom line is she is here and we need to do something about it.”

The Andorian First Officer spoke quickly. “On the face of it, we can’t ethically do anything. It’s not like this was caused by a transporter malfunction or some trick from Q. That would be relatively easy to solve, so to speak. Besides, we would have heard from Q by now, I’m sure.”

Annika put her hands on her hips. “Well, we can’t keep her here either.”

Shaking her head, Kathryn asked, “How’s the rest of the crew?”

“No one has reported further symptoms for two days.”

Nodding, Kathryn said, “so, she is the remaining issue.” She turned to Anthi. “The warning markers were deployed around Xerosia, correct?”

“Yes, sir. Once we recovered from the hallucinations, the buoys were launched. The crew has been submitting reports of their experiences since then.”

Kathryn paced a few steps in the hallway. “The second sentient planet the Federation has encountered and this happens. As if it is trying to send a message to-.” She stopped and turned to the other women.

“The question is, what are we going to do with her?” Annika was scratching her head and didn’t notice the gleam in Kathryn’s eyes.

“I have an idea. But it’s personal and selfish.”

Anthi looked back to Kathryn. They stared at each other for several seconds before Annika looked up and tried to join the silent conversation.

+++

Several minutes later …

The doors to Sick Bay open and Captain Kathryn Beringer walks in. Her affect is blank until the doors close. She looks back to the Doctor and First Officer and nods her head before turning to face the other Kathryn Beringer. “Bad news or good news first?

Sitting on a Bio-Bed and wearing standard medical fatigues, with her long burgundy hair let down and flowing over shoulders, Kathryn smirked. “Bad news, I suppose. It’s better to get that out of the way.”

Captain Beringer smiled. “I knew you would say that. Mind if I call you ‘Kathy’, it will help with the conversation?”

Kathy kept smirking, “It’s what I was going to ask you, actually.”

Anthi crossed her arms. Annika placed her hands on her hips.

Kathryn continued. “Okay, the bad news is we cannot determine how you got here. According to Doctor Kramer, there is no reason you should be here and, thus, we have no way to figure out how to … send you back –“.

“So,” Kathy interrupted, “you need to figure out what to do with me.”

“Yes. But, if you are me, then you know everything about me. Everything.”

The two women stared at each other for several seconds until Kathy broke the silence. “I can’t read your mind.”

Kathryn crossed arms behind her back as if to stand in relaxed attention and leaned forward at the waist. “As you know, there are a handful of people on board, you trust intimately, who know your … our past very well.”

“Yes, and two of them are in this room.”

“Exactly.” Kathryn spoke in hushed tones. “Duty as a Starfleet Captain prevents you from doing some work you really want to do.”

Kathy narrowed her eyes. “Then why stay in Starfleet?”

Kathryn narrowed her eyes and grinned. “In the grand scheme of things, you can do more in the chair, than away from it.”

Looking over Kathryn’s shoulder, Kathy could see Anthi and Annika had not moved. Clearly, a plan had been hatched by the three of them and Kathy was the catalyst. “Specifically meaning?”

The Captain looked back to the others in the room and then back to Kathy with a mischievous look in her eyes. “We do have a Black Talon suit.”

Kathy briefly looked stunned until the realization behind the statement dawned on her. Kathryn was suggesting she be in two places at the same time: one as the dutiful Starfleet Captain, the other …

“Let me be crystal clear about this. You’re thinking I could take the Black Talon and ‘hunt’ Syndicate members to satisfy a vendetta?!”

Kathryn didn’t move. “Correction: making a dent in the slave trade. This is our passion, our motivation to be where we are and joining Starfleet was the ‘high road’, so to speak. As a reminder, you tread the ‘low road’ and it was hard, real hard.”

Looking skeptical, Kathy asked, “So why suggest I go back to that life?”

Kathryn reached up and touched the rank pips on her collar. “It would be a lonely life to be sure. You remember what it was like before joining Starfleet: the constant insecurity, fear, hate … and satisfaction. Frankly, you don’t have to be a killer, not like you wanted to be or thought you could be. Finding slavers and reporting them should be enough.”

“C’mon, you remember reporting to the authorities was never enough!”

“True, but this time you’ll have some support.” She smiled and spread her arms wide as if to show off some fashionable piece of clothing.

Kathy smirked, the idea and its many possibilities was settling in her mind. “Unofficially I presume?”

Kathryn looked smug. “Look at it another way: as official as I can make it.”

---
Cast for crew:
Kathryn Beringer / Kathy - Rachel Nichols
Anthi Ythysi - Katheryn Winnick 
Annika Kramer - Abbie Cornish

The Sound of Silence

The streaking star field on the main viewscreen abruptly stops and the ship rolls slightly as RCS thrusters adjust to match the system’s elliptical plane.

Kathryn smiles and she taps the rank pips on her collar. “It’s good to be home,” she says quietly to herself. Standing from the center seat of the bridge, she takes a few steps toward the helm station. “Ian, scan the vicinity for traffic and plot a course toward Utopia Planetia, quarter-impulse speed please. We are ahead of schedule and can afford some sight-seeing, so to speak.”

“Aye, Captain.” After a few seconds looking over his console, Ian added, “System traffic is light and course plotted.”

“Excellent, thank you.” She turned to Anthi, her Andorian First Officer. “Anthi, you have the conn, I’ll be in my ready-room until we arrive for docking procedures.”

Anthi nodded, her antennae curled slowly together as a sign she was relaxed. “Aye, Captain.”

+++

After docking …

Exiting the ready-room, Kathryn verified docking procedures were completed without incident with various bridge crew. She then entered the turbo-lift and was about to order a destination when S’Rel appeared and nodded. The Chief of Operations, being Vulcan, was typically subdued as she joined Kathryn in the tube.

“Deck Eight”, Kathryn ordered as the doors closed. The tube hummed slightly as it descended.

“Captain, I wish to speak to you about the personnel transfer scheduled while we are at the shipyards.”

Kathryn looked surprised. “Interesting time to discuss that”, she replied patiently.

“This was an opportune time.” S’Rel produced a PADD from behind her back.

Accepting it with a quiet sigh, Kathryn scanned the short roster. “A few changes since the personnel meeting, yet all Deck Officers have signed off and –“, she hovered a finger over the blinking icon at the bottom of the report. “Do you have any reservations?“

S’Rel's brow crumpled from concentration, or consternation. “A last-minute addition was requested from the Indomitable, sir. Ensign Turkal, a communications specialist. I formally request his denial for transfer to Solaris.”

Looking again, Kathryn reviewed specific details. As the turbolift doors opened, some officers waiting stepped aside. Kathryn smiled and looked to each quickly before returning her attention to the PADD, S’Rel followed behind. Stopping near an intersection, Kathryn turned to the Vulcan. “Forgive me S’Rel, nothing in his record suggests he could not be posted aboard this ship.”

Crossing her arms behind her back, S’Rel looked around the hallway. Kathryn cocked her head to the side as she perceived S’Rel seemed embarrassed. “Turkal broke off our engagement after he admitted to wanting relations with another woman. His partner is on this vessel already.”

Kathryn closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

+++

On Deck Eleven …

At the end of the hallway the turbolift doors to the dorsal shuttlebay seemed a kilometer away. Kathryn tapped the rank pips on her collar as she strode forward. Crossing an intersection, a female down a sideway called her name. Wincing, Kathryn stopped abruptly a few paces from the turbolift and turned around. Science Chief Omazei turned a corner and stopped. She was holding a PADD and wore a bright smile. Almost thirty centimeters shorter than Kathryn, the Trill was certainly ‘cute’.

“I’m so glad I caught you Captain!” Omazei pushed her chin-length black hair behind an ear revealing brown marks that ran along the sides of her face and disappeared under her uniform’s collar.

“Yes, Commander, what can I do for you?”

Omazei’s demeanor shifted from congenial to professional as she tapped on the PADD. “I was looking over the telemetry from our survey of Wyngus III and noticed some … irregularities.”

There was a pause and Kathryn raised her eyebrows after several seconds as Omazei seemed to be waiting for a response.

“Yes, well, I checked the logs and noticed a calibration differential between the primary and secondary sensor platforms. The calibration was the top of error range, meaning –“

“Meaning the telemetry is not accurate within five,” Kathryn interrupted and sighed, “to ten percent.”

“Exactly. The Sensor and Deflector teams could recalibrate the pylons while we are here! The yards have the tools needed to complete the task within a few days at the most.”

“Complications would be a delay though. Could we complete the recalibration when we leave drydock?”

Omazei looked skeptical. “It could be done, yet we are scheduled to conduct system surveys in the Cestus Sector, so physical handling while at Warp Speed is not recommended.”
Kathryn closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

+++

On Deck Eighteen ...

Kathryn stepped out of the turbolift and quickly walked toward the main shuttlebay doorway. As if on cue, Chief Engineer Thel exited a room she passed.

“Ah, Captain, good timing! I have the requisition logs for the upcoming weapons refit. There have been some major revisions needing your approval.”

Kathryn had stopped to turn to the Andorian and accepted the PADD. She scanned the list and looked up with surprise. “These look less like revisions and more like an overhaul.”

“Yes, sir. The Pulse Phasers will require a minimal power routing lattice our current network will be stressed to handle."

“Was this known at the time of the initial report?”

Thel put his hands behind his back; a sign he was embarrassed about something. “The requisition was made based on our current Mark Twelve configuration. Starfleet has granted the request for Mark Fourteen systems and –“

“It’s better to keep what they gave, than to turn it down,” Kathryn interrupted as she nodded. “Can the lattice network be upgraded before the weapon systems arrive?”

“Easily.” He pulled another PADD from a pouch on his work vest and tapped a few keys. “I’ll need the full Engineering team on a rotating twelve-hour shift over two days to keep the weapons refit on schedule.”

Kathryn closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

+++

On board the shuttlecraft Yanaze…

Kathryn tapped on the console to the right as she completed the pre-flight check. Her combadge chirped and she slapped at the device impatiently.

“Beringer here.” She forced calm into her voice.

“Captain, this is Bur’ar. There is a concern with the Prisoner transfer.” The Klingon Chief of Security sounded as if he were growling. “Are you alone?”

Even though she was the only person on the Yellowstone shuttlecraft, she was compelled to look back into the fuselage. Seeing no one, Kathryn replied, “yes, what’s the problem?”

Bur’ar cleared his throat. “As the prisoners were being escorted to shuttlebay one, some words were exchanged with the Orion ambassador who was nearby at an intersection. A physical altercation started between the two. The escort team successfully separated the combatants without injury. The ambassador was sent to quarters. Upon arriving to the transport shuttle, the Orion prisoner started showing signs of illness and is currently in sickbay.”

Kathryn sat back into the chair and crossed her arms. “What’s the prognosis for the prisoner?”

“Not very good.”

“Has anyone questioned Staza?”

“Due to her status, protocol dictates you must be present throughout any investigation.”

Kathryn closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

+++

At Utopia Planitia Alpha Station …

Entering the holodeck, Kathryn removed her combadge and placed it within a small container embedded in the wall next to the control panel. She pressed an icon on the panel and then stepped into the dimly lit chamber.

“Computer, lock main door, vocal authorization access only. Begin program: Kathryn-Risa-Lambda-Seven.”

The panel on the wall chirped an acknowledgment and the yellow-on-black grid lines were replaced by a serene beach. Water lapped several meters away, with a thick tree-line running perpendicular to the beach. Kathryn could feel the simulated warmth on her cheeks with a slight breeze pulling or pushing her hair. She tugged at the regulation-styled bun of hair and it unfolded to flow over her shoulders. Taking a few paces to a lone beach chair, Kathryn unzipped her uniform jacket and rested it over the chair. She pushed her trousers to her feet then sat down and pulled her boots off.

Kathryn reclined the back of the chair and crossed her legs. The sound of the waves and occasional squawking of a Risian parakeet in the background was soothing. She sighed, closing her eyes and licking her lips.

“Computer, lower ambient volume, continue until stop command.”

The sounds around her diminished until barely audible.

“Stop.”

+++

Cast for crew:

Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols

Anthi Ythysi - Katheryn Winnick

S'Rel - Morena Baccarin

Thel Ythysi - Kevin Sorbo

Omazei - Gemma Arterton

Bur'ar - David Ramsay

Ian - Ben Browder

Mentioned but not seen:

Turkal - Male street extra

Mail Day

Unofficial Literary Challenge 30 - Mail Day

---

“So, this is it?”  Kathryn spoke to Petty Officer Joleim, the Quartermaster to Shuttle Bay Four.  She stood over a small crate approximately 60 centimeters square and was worn down with scrapes and minor dents from years of use being a standard Starfleet mail container.

Closing a tricorder, the Benzite looked up.  “Yes, Captain.  Per standard procedures, the logs were reviewed before conducting a level five scan, and not seeing any concern, I processed the package from the Savoyard.”

Kathyrn nodded and looked questioningly at the female Caitian Security Guard standing a few paces behind Joleim.  Her arms were crossed behind her and she stood passively looking to the distance.  Her tail swished in a way that suggested she was irritated with the situation.  Kathryn sympathized for Ensign Kirat; Joleim was very meticulous with his duty and more than once he had called Security to handle minor incidents.  She recalled Kirat’s name appearing on most of the after-action reports.  Clearly the Caitian was assigned to this area.

Seeing where Kathryn was looking, Joleim answered, “pardon me Captain, protocols demand Security presence when the quartermaster deems the situation is outside normal parameters.”

“I understand.”  She paused as she looked back to the crate.  “What have your scans revealed?”

Standing, Joleim cleared his throat.  “Well, my initial review of the transit logs did not seem out of the ordinary.  The package originated from Starbase-39 and has been transferred two times on well-vetted transport vessels before ending its journey here.  The standard level five scan is meant to detect trace elements of known explosives or combustibles only, and finding none is certainly predictable as the crate would not have been able to be transported to this ship in the first place.  As you know.”

Kathryn blinked patiently.

The Benzite continued.  “What seemed out of place was that the contents were either not included by the sender … or were redacted.”

That comment surprised Kathryn and she did not hide her thoughts.  “That sounds a little conspiratorial, wouldn’t you agree?”

Joleim tilted his head as he thought quickly.  “To the contrary, Captain.  I am postulating reasons for the missing information in the manifest.”

“Fair enough,” Kathryn exhaled quickly.  “Who is the sender and who is the recipient?”  

Looking at a PADD, Joleim answered, “Kit Walker to Kiera Cameron.  This is also an oddity as there is no crewmember aboard this ship with that name.”

Kathryn couldn’t help to roll her eyes.  “No, indeed there is not.  So, let’s take a peek inside shall we?”

Joleim started to protest as Kathryn bent down and quickly entered an override code into the access panel.  The top of the crate hissed open and Benzite jumped back suddenly, resulting in Kirat drawing her phaser pistol.  Kathryn calmly pushed the panel wide open and stuck her hand inside the box.  Pulling out a Romulan-styled PADD, she looked up to the shocked Quartermaster.  She stood and inspected the gray-colored device.

“Stand down Ensign, this package was anticipated, from a certain point of view.  It was meant for me.”

Kirat holstered the pistol.  “Aye, Captain,” responded Kirat with a little relief.

Joleim composed himself.  “Forgive me Captain, this is not expected protocol.  Should I have followed another policy for this situation?”

“Not at all Joleim, you executed your duty perfectly.” 

The Quartermaster beamed from the compliment.  His face suddenly looked dumbfounded.  “I do not understand, why the subterfuge?”  

Kathryn held up the device.  “What, this?”  She giggled to herself.  “I’m happy to say that Solaris just got information that will help Chef Nadaka make the most amazing Romulan brioche.”

Joleim tilted his head again, his face expressionless.

“It’s a professional joke from the sender,” Kathryn said reassuringly and smiled.  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the results soon!”

As she turned to leave, Kathryn spoke over her shoulder.  “Joleim, please audit the logs to declare the package was received by me.”

The Benzite tilted his head to the one side again.  “Aye, Captain.”

+++

The turbolift doors opened.  Kathryn stepped in, spun on her heels to face the empty passageway and ordered, “Deck One”.  

After the doors closed, she enthusiastically entered a code to unlock the PADD’s screen, expecting the see a message from friend Daikar. 

Her smile faded when Franklin Drake’s image appeared instead.  The Section 31 operative smirked, knowing she did not appreciate what he was about to ask her to do.  “Greetings, Captain Beringer.  There is something happening in the Gamma Quadrant.  Let’s talk about that …”

---

Cast for crew:

Franklin Drake - Victor Webster

Kirat - Kylie Jenner

Joleim - Richard Harmon

Kathryn Beringer - Rachel Nichols

Mentioned but not seen:
Daikar - Billy Zane
Chef Nadaka - TBD