On Captain Taes’s first tour of the Delta Quadrant, her conscious mind was distorted by blood dilithium’s psychic influence. Her second tour of the Delta Quadrant had felt like an out-of-body experience, so numbed was she by the horrors the Dominion and Borg had wrought on the Federation. Then the Kazon had chased Constellation back to Alpha Quadrant early.
On this third tour of the Delta Quadrant, Taes was signing treaties of friendship with new civilisations — even when it required singing her heart out in front of an audience of millions.
This time, she wasn’t fucking around.
Projected on the viewscreen was a Kazon warrior framed by the rust-hued interior of his raider’s bridge. Under the dim lighting, his features appeared angular and sharper for it. Unlike the unkempt wildness customary of the Kazon, his hair was sculpted with mathematical precision, each thick lock cut and arranged to echo the symmetrical ridges of his forehead.
“Betrayer! I never should have trusted your man,” the Kazon bellowed. Despite the sheer volume, his words were delivered measuredly. He held his posture remarkably rigid despite the explosive exclamation.
Baring his teeth in derision, he shouted, “Your soft-world whelp thought to prove his name in battle, but he debased himself with transporter tricker. He thought catapulting those wrecks at my fleet would destroy me?”
Leaning back in her captain’s seat, Taes explained, “First Maje, our transporters aren’t capable of–”
“Nothing can destroy me!” he interjected, speaking over Taes. “Hear this: I will have my vengeance. When I have destroyed your precious Constellation, the name of First Maje Vuldu will be forgotten in history. Instead, I will become known as your Doomsday Machine.”
Taes jumped to her feet at his verbal atrocity to Starfleet’s legacy.
Unceremoniously, the transmission of First Maje Vuldu flickered out. A trio of teeth-rattling electric hums washed over the bridge, indicating more phaser blasts pummeling into their shields. Across the viewscreen, an aft view from Constellation tracked the three Kazon raiders in desperate pursuit. They weaved and dodged between one another as if each raider was salivating to take the next bite out of the hull.
Slightly out of breath, Nova reported, “They’ve closed the channel.”
Everyone else on the bridge was silent. Only the hiss of the life support filled the space. Taes glanced back to see Nova relieving the officer at the communications station.
“Is this the same maje who bartered with the Minerva last week?” Taes asked, open to insight from any of her bridge crew. She made no effort to hide the bafflement in her voice. The Federation’s access to humanitarian supplies like food, water, and medicine has always proven to be a powerful motivator for cooperation in the Nacene Reach.
From her recollection, Taes said, “The report said negotiations were terse but ultimately fruitful.”
“Captain Jeovanni is a talker,” Calumn remarked. “He must have given Vuldu a charming history lesson on the Constellation’s lineage.”
Having taken up position between the flight control and tactical stations, Calumn returned to offering evasive patterns and defensive firing recommendations to keep them out of the Kazon’s reach. He grabbed hold of the back of the flight controller’s chair as the deck rocked suddenly.
At the science hub to Taes’s left, Flavia ir-Llantrisant sighed, “Romulans don’t name our ships after famous failures. We prefer to–”
A melodic chirping on her panel seemed to buoy Flavia and she eagerly changed topics.
“You’re right, captain. I’m seeing sixteen matches in markings and emission frequencies. This is the same ship that negotiated with starship Minerva.”
Nova said, “Minerva reported in two hours ago. They made no mention of encountering Kazons since then.”
Sardonically, she added, “Let alone hurling starship wrecks at them.”
Letting her gaze go soft, Taes crossed her arms over her midsection and visualised what she’d heard as a complex web of cause and effect. She silently questioned the facts that had shaped the Kazons’ experiences and the assumptions that had led to their current understanding of betrayal.
“Starfleet’s reputation appears to have inflated beyond our means,” Taes remarked, and she couldn’t foresee if that reputation would serve her aims or harm them.
Narrowing down potential causes, Taes asked, “Could he have suspicions of our involvement in stranding Maje Midrell in the Alpha Quadrant?”
“If he did, he would thank you for removing a rival,” offered Counselor Turro, sitting in the chair to Taes’s immediate left. “The Kazon only respond to acts of strength. This has been researched, captain. It’s well-documented. We must recall the Meridian to assert our dominance.”
The semblance of a smile curled the corners of Taes’s lips. She was familiar with young officers who felt emboldened by their research. She had been such a young officer. She knew such young officers deserved grace, but her crew was under fire.
“Next, you’ll suggest I should let a man speak for me,” Taes said dryly as she returned to her chair.
Turro gasped. He snapped his head in Taes’s direction so quickly that the chain on his Bajoran earring whipped into the side of his neck.
“Captain, I would never– I mean, it’s not that I think– It was only research–”
Tartly, Taes called out to her executive officer, saying, “Calumn, you insisted on putting a counselor on my bridge. I never expected him to be so bloodthirsty.”
Turro tried to sputter a response, but his rebuttal was lost to the chatter around the bridge.
Evidently missing the teasing humour, Security Chief Ache shouted, “I must advise against withdrawing Meridian from its escort of Almagest, captain! Our shields are taking little damage from the raider.”
From the LCARS hub to Taes’s right, Operations Chief Nune added, “However, if the other two catch up to us, the three of them will deplete our power resources quickly.”
“Agreed.” Taes nodded. She shifted her weight forward, perching on the edge of her chair.
She said, “I’d like to draw the Kazon away from the Almagest’s position. We can run away, but not so fast they’ll look for other Starfleet targets. Options?”
Flavia cleared her throat and suggested, “Long-range scans had picked up gravimetric distortions over an hour ago. They were too distant to estimate a cause worth investigating. Those could be the source of the so-called transporter trickery.”
“Send the coordinates to the CONN,” Taes said with some urgency. Even if the Kazon were causing little more damage than Kozari needlebugs, getting bitten by the wrong needlebug could come with neuro-invasive disease.
“Lieutenant Door, please set course at warp five,” Taes ordered. “Let’s find out!”
The order given, the starfield through the transparent viewscreen streaked to the swirling light of Constellation increasing speed, breaking the light barrier. The very concept of warp travel had seemed unnatural to Taes as a child, but now she always slept more deeply aboard starships when they were travelling at warp.
When Taes started to ask if the Kazon were in pursuit, Nova spoke up.
“We’ve received a one-way transmission from Bravo Fleet Command,” Nova said. “It’s a code forty-seven.”
Code forty-seven was a message for captain’s eyes only. It brought back heavy memories of Taes’s secret mission to the Ianua pulsar: the minefield and the psychic rescue. Given her great distance from Federation space, code forty-seven was the last thing Taes expected. Even the Minerva launching starship hulks at the Kazon would have been less surprising.
“Was it routed to us from the flagship of Odyssey Squadron?” Taes asked, recognising the superior resources of an Odyssey-class starship, operating under the Delta Exploration Initiative as she was. The thought struck her, simultaneously, that she couldn’t remember the last time she had heard from Max.
Nova took a breath and said, “No, it was transmitted directly from Starbase Bravo. It looks like it came through a microwormhole.”
“Project Pathfinder,” Taes remarked with far more dread than she would have like to expressed in front of her crew.
Making her way to her feet, Taes said, “I’ll take it in my ready room. Calumn, you have the bridge.”
As she descended the steps of the command platform, Taes added, “Don’t let the counselor launch all of our quantum torpedos while I’m gone.”