Repulse: The Carlinian Mission

“It is not! It tastes better when it's rare, just sit down and don't be so picky!” Dorel smirked. Caltan was a native dish and there were more ways to make it than there were people on the planet. Caltan was an odd mix of plant and meat, not sentient or aware like cattle but not exactly inanimate like a tree. Caltan grew in thick, ropy tendrils that grew back almost as fast as they could be consumed. Fortunately they didn't grow everywhere; they had been a real boon to the original settlers.

“Are you giving him a hard time about his cooking again?” Cordelia asked as she breezed into the room. She paused to kiss Dorel on the cheek, “My poor suffering husband.”

“Go hungry then! I'll tell Octavian you ran off with a Betazed trader!” Dorel smirked and turned back to his cooking.

“Oh, that Betazed business again,” she cocked an eyebrow at Aethan as she sat at the table and broke off a piece of bread. “He was handsome.”

“Dorel, maybe you should be less worried about me and more for Cordelia!” Aethan leaned back in his chair and laughed as the others joined him.

“I'll be glad once this wedding business is done, that's for sure. That Betazed sure didn't seem to know what being engaged meant,” Dorel huffed.

Dorel and Cordelia both pointed to each other and then laughed. The internal computer chimed and announced an incoming call.

“Go ahead, computer, put it through.” He glanced at the screen to find the image of his son and daughter squeezing into the frame.

“Well, no, but that subject did come up,” Cordelia smiled as the two shoved each other. “Oh, grow up you two! I'd almost swear you disliked each other!”

“That's why we're calling you, actually. Caltrandia has developed an instability in the warp core matrix injectors,” Octavian explained, “We had to drop out of warp. Intrase, Cotrigus and Zafir have dropped out to stay with us, but the ones with cargo continued. We have to make repairs, about three days I think, and we'll be coming home.”

“Three days?” Aethan stepped into the screen in front of Octavian and Olivia's parents. “Isn't there anything you can do?”

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.” She looked askance at Octavian, “Who needs a Betazed to steal him from you?”

“Three days,” Octavian growled to the screen and, reaching for the disconnect muttered, “Love you all.” The screen abruptly went to the symbol for the Carlinian home world.

“A problem? A problem? The hall is booked for another three weeks and the suits, the suits!” Aethan put his head in his hands.

“Don't worry Aethan, it'll work out. If we're going to have to re-schedule, we should eat so we can do it on a full stomach.” Dorel put the bowl of steaming caltan on the table. “How is your AI coming?”

“Sure, he so advanced ARTificial Intelligence was the best name you could come up with,” he grinned, warming his wife up for a fight.

“His name doesn't matter so much, and if you ask me why it matters if you call him Arti or AI you'll wear this caltan,” she glowered at him.

“Arti is like a child, I'd like to strangle his virtual neck sometimes,” Aethan groaned as he took a bowl of caltan from Dorel, “Yesterday he told me he didn't want to mate up with the weapons systems because he doesn't like them, says he's a pacifist.”

“It takes time, we have to simulate an environment where he has no choice. I'd rather he not be bloodthirsty; he's not a Klingon after all.”

“I hope he learns before he gets stuck in a real world situation. The Federation is so weak right now, the only good thing is that everyone else is too. We need some defense,” Dorel sighed.

“He's learning quickly, actually. He's assimilating history and engineering at a rapid pace, tactics is due to start anytime now. Once he has tactics and military strategy in his memory, he may alter a bit more towards the aggressive side,” Cordelia responded. “He'll be ready when the time comes, if it does and I hope it never does.”

The small group settled into their meal, utensils clacking against bowls. Aethan and Cordelia settled into a debate about the best way to get Arti to absorb more information while Dorel did his best to aggravate the situation. After the table had been cleared from the evening meal Cordelia removed chilled pomor from the cooling unit and began cutting it.

“You know, we could try to get the pavilion now for the wedding, I can call Ordell tomorrow and see,” she gave Aethan a sympathetic glance. “The hall would have been nice, but maybe we can have the ceremony outdoors now.”

“Cordie, outdoors?” Aethan whined. The home's communication system chimed before informing the room of an incoming call for Dorel.

“Put it through,” Dorel grinned at Aethan and his wife. Seeing his son married would be a fine day! He gave the screen before him his attention where Gilgro, a Ferengi trader appeared. The Ferengi smiled, something that was off putting considering all the sharp teeth running off in so many different directions.

“Business is well, Gilgro. To what do I owe the dubious honor?” Dorel flicked his attention back and forth between his wife making dessert and the trader. Pomor had to be cut just so or it was like eating small pebbles.

“Nothing dubious about this deal, Dorel. This is all about profit, for the both of us!” Gilgro leaned forward excitedly.

“I found a derelict, still has it's warp drive and a stockpile of quantum torpedoes. Heavy damage, and you know I really don't have time to salvage a ship, but I'd be willing to pass on the co-ordinates for a modest finders fee.” Gilgro sat back in his chair, a broad smile highlighting his crooked teeth.

Dorel stared at the Ferengi, his mind stretching as he tried to figure out what the trader was up to. Quantum torpedoes would sell for a very high price on the smuggling circuit, and of there was profit to be made there was never a Ferengi far away from it. It was probably a Rule of Acquisition.

“Oh, just thought you'd call me with a prime piece of salvage eh? Why me Gilgro?” Dorel pointed to a large piece of Pomor that was escaping his wife's notice in his opinion..

“Well, if you want the truth I think you're the closest one of my contacts,” Gilgro maintained the smile. Dorel considered the Ferengi and realized something was very wrong. Normally Gilgro was unflappable, but now he seemed...nervous.

“Twelve, and you're lucky to get that. The ship better be there too, no ship no latinum,” Dorel replied in a bored voice.

“I can't take twelve. If you can't go at least twenty five I'll have to find another buyer.” Gilgro tried hard to look offended.

“Gilgro, you'll take fifteen and like it. I'm certain I wasn't the first person you thought to sell to, though I may be the first you contacted. If something weren't wrong, majorly wrong, you would be trying to sell the wreck to someone who could afford more, or who wouldn't try to blow you up for cheating them. Send the co-ordinates and I'll meet you there. If the ship is there, I'll transport the fee. If you want to find someone else, then do that. Now, if you'll excuse me, my pomor is ready.” Dorel cut the communication off.

“What is that Ferengi trying to pull on you?” Aethan asked before biting into his pomor, juice suddenly running down his chin.

“I'm not sure,” Dorel shook his head and reached for a piece of pomor. “The thing that worries me is Ferengi, as a rule, never pass up on profit. He was nervous enough to say Quantum torpedoes were still aboard, which he could get a tidy bit of latinum for. In fact, thirty bars wouldn't even buy the guidance system for one of those.”

“Hey,” Cordelia grabbed Aethan's sleeve, “We should take Arti over, see what he can do as a test on this derelict. It should have a physical docking port we can feed him into, especially since the ship is damaged. Could get some great raw data on what he can do, how fast he can integrate.”

“That's true, and with the ship damaged he might decide having control of the weapons is a positive thing,” Aethan responded.

“Well,” Cordelia swallowed her pomor and wiped her mouth before responding. “Arti has two functions, one is to pilot ships with no crews due to our low population, of course. But another function is to be able to infiltrate other control programs and take control of major systems, command and control functions, etc.”

“Ideally, we've never had a foreign system for him to try to integrate with though, so this would be an ideal opportunity. I'll move him to a data crystal tomorrow morning and be ready to go with you. Aethan, you should come too, otherwise you'll just brood anyway.”

“That's so sweet. I used to act the same way when Dorel was on trading trips,” Cordelia smiled at Aethan. “Of course that changes, now I can't get him out of the house fast enough.”

“That's my 'baggage' you're talking about Fic,” Dorel growled at the intercom, Fic had already walked away it seemed however. Just as well, since Dorel began to chuckle. Fic would have been called an engineer on other ships, here he was just a repairman; that was understating things by more than just a little. Fic seemed to commune with electronic and mechanical systems and kept the ships in his little shipping and salvage fleet working long past their dates to be retired.

He set about his bridge duties, verifying the travel time to get to this derelict. Gilgro had sent the co-ordinates they would rendezvous at in about twelve hours. This particular ship was one he only used for salvage jobs because of its tractor beam capabilities. Large but slow the Silver Star could haul four times her weight in tonnage, and Gilgro had said the ship was a derelict, which probably meant there was only half a ship.

“Dorel, Cordie and Aethan are on board, warp engines are online. We're ready to depart,” Fic's voice rattled through the comm system.

“Acknowledged, Fic.” Dorel sat back in his tiny command chair, something he really wished was larger but the bridge simply wouldn't allow it. Turning to his helmsman, Laurian, he gave the orders, “Engage orbital engines, take us out.”

“Docking clamps released, engaging orbital engines. Heading sir?” Laurian glanced at him. There was a time he'd have liked to see Octavian married to a girl like this, she'd have made a fine daughter. But then, Aethan made a wonderful son.

“Heading two two zero mark eight, engage warp engines when possible, feeding destination coordinates now.” He tapped a few keys on his console and moments later felt the Silver Star respond, slowly turning to the specified heading and take a shuddering lurch forward.

“Dorel, it would have been but the transport with the new part didn't arrive on schedule. In short, your worship, your son hasn't delivered the inertial dampener relays we need.”

He knew Fic was in engineering with a grin wide enough to split his face, no one besides Cordelia enjoyed jerking his chain more. He grunted into the comm unit and left well enough alone. The ship smoothed out, as he knew it would, and in a few minutes they had reached the safe zone for warp speed.

“Best speed, helm,” Dorel replied, relaxing into his chair. He doubted a man had ever liked a chair more than he liked this one, too small though it may be. It was his, and it was the command chair on the bridge. There was something not quite describable about being captain of your own ship, something comforting and powerful; it felt like you held your destiny in your hands.

Once the ship was in warp he left the bridge and headed down to the crew compartment to check on his wife and son in law to be. He found them both relaxed in the mess, drinking something hot.

“I thought you two would be fussing over your equipment,” he remarked as he reached to make himself a drink as well.

“No, we packed it ourselves instead of trusting it to, oh I don't know, a salvager or something.” Cordelia grinned over her cup.

“Oh did he now? That Fic,” She shook her head. “I'm trying to be nice to him, I think Olivia has her eye on him.” She looked at Aethan and winked.

“What did you do that for? If Olivia is interested in Fic, why aggravate...oh, right. She's not interested in Fic, is she?” Aethan asked.

The Silver Star made good time, reaching her destination in just over fourteen hours. Dorel sat in his command chair reading an update on parts Fic would need before long for each ship in his little fleet.

“Dorel, we're being hailed. Ferengi trader is now on sensors. Also a large ship, possibly the derelict in question.” Laurian reported crisply.

“Dorel, as you can see the derelict is where I said. Kindly beam my latinum aboard and it's all yours,” the Ferengi.

“Initial sensor scans indicate minimal power, warp core is idle but online. Life support is functional but failing. Hull breaches on several decks, so far it appears that emergency forcefields are containing the atmosphere, continuing scan.” Laurian reported.

Dorel considered the data. There was something he was missing, but who knows what it was. The Ferengi cleared his throat and Dorel pressed a few buttons on his command console, beaming the payment aboard.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Dorel. Enjoy,” The Ferengi smiled, seeming to add some extra sleaze. Dorel had a bad feeling. The Ferengi ship jumped into warp and the Silver Star homed in on the derelict.

“It has battle damage, Dorel. It has phaser burns and even worse, it's a Federation ship. It'll have a transponder, we need to get it shut down and fast before we lose it.”

“Agreed. You have the ship, we'll beam a team over in a few moments. Shields are down, correct?” Dorel paused in the doorway and glanced back at Laurian for confirmation.

Dorel moved down the gangway to the transporter pad where he encountered his wife with her equipment in a pack on her back, along with Aethan and his gear. Fic had a back pack and tool bag in his hand. Satisfied everyone was prepared he joined them on the pad and spoke through the comm system.

Encased in light, a momentary shift and then they were surrounded by the bridge of a Federation starship. Emergency lights were on, hand held scanners were opened and his people spread out to examine the hulk. The ship AI was saying something, but it was very low.

“Computer,” Fic said aloud. The computer chimed in response, “Raise volume.” The computer chimed again and they all heard it; the pleasant female voice began a chilling chant.

“Laurian, beam us out, now!” Dorel barked into his communicator, moments later they were encased in light and returned to the transporter pad.

“I knew it! That slimy, sneaky, swindler of a Ferengi! Laurien, shields up! Put some distance between us and that death trap!”

“Dorel, hang on a minute,” Fic grabbed his employers arm. “That AI was stuck on a number, the captain tried to self destruct but it failed for some reason.”

Dorel contemplated the huge ship on his view-screen, peaceful stars twinkling all around it in the infinite dark of space.

Dorel glanced at Fic, then back at the screen. The graceful lines of the saucer and nacelles tumbled in slow motion, a ticking bomb in an attractive package.

“Suggestions? I don't want to lose anyone, but I'm not hot on the idea of throwing away fifteen bars of latinum either.” Dorel paced a moment and then sat in his chair.

“Arti could assimilate the computer core, maybe shut down the auto destruct. Might be our best chance to test those abilities of his, after all Federation computer cores should be a tough nut to crack, right?”

“Yes,” Cordelia said slowly, “I believe this is the best real world test we could ask for,” she turned to Laurian, “Beam Aethan and I to the bridge. We'll load Arti, but keep a transporter lock on us and beam us out at the first sign of trouble.”

“How else do you expect Arti to gain access? Telepathy? Shall we toss his data crystal out the airlock and see what happens if it hits the ships hull?” Cordelia snapped.

“Don't tell me how to do my job, Dorel. This is why I'm here, this is the kind of test I need and didn't dare hope for. I have complete faith in Laurian, she wont' let anything happen to us.” Cordelia glowered at her husband.

“Cordelia,” he whispered. She responded to him by taking his face in her hands, stroking the sides of his face gently.

“Dorel, don't tell me you are completely safe when you do salvage operations, this is just a calculated risk. We pop Arti in and beam out. We can probably record the data from here. If it works, we have the whole ship. We can't have a great deal of time either, eventually the ship will complete it's last order or fall into a gravity well and then it will all be for naught.”

Dorel stared into her eyes, realizing he'd lost. Realizing he'd have to sit on the bridge, in his chair which would bring him no comfort now, and watch his headstrong wife beam across to that waiting bomb; it sat in space with its irresistible pull much like a venus flytrap to an insect. He sighed deeply and looked at Laurian.

“You heard the lady, maintain transporter lock, yank them out on her mark,” He turned to face his wife. “Bring my son in law back.”

Cordelia nodded to Laurian and the bridge around her faded to the battle damaged bridge of the Federation ship. The female voice continued its monotone repetition of the number three while Aethan directed her to the port he'd found earlier.

“Loud and clear, Cordie. How long before beam out?” Fic replied. If she knew her husband he was in that damned chair trying not to look scared out of his mind. She couldn't blame him, she was a bit nervous herself.

“We think we have a data port, attempting download.” Cordelia took the data crystal out of its carrier and inserted it into the port. The light clicked on and the small tines grabbed the crystal, like mandibles grabbing food. The crystal lit up as data began to move.

“Listening to that thing stuck on a countdown is creepy,” Aethan muttered. They moved about the debris strewn bridge, pushing wiring back out of the way and generally trying to apply a bit more order. Lights blinked randomly on the various stations and Aethan located the weapons console and sat to investigate it.

“That's odd, the lights at the science station just went off,” Cordelia frowned. “Oh, there they are. Must be a power fluctuation.

“Cordie, shields are going up, what's happening over there?” Dorel's panicked voice wounded through the overhead speakers.

“I don't know, Dorel, Arti must be accessing the systems!” Cordelia heard a tremor of fear in her voice as the ship shuddered, lights blinked on and off at each station; almost in a rhythm all their own.

“Cordelia? Sensors show a buildup in the warp core, estimate sixty seconds to matrix destabilization and overload.” Laurian reported.

Cordelia and Aethan were suddenly plunged into darkness, and all sound stopped. Aethan found his clip light first, shining the beam on Cordelia who then found her beam.

“Lost power on the bridge, are the shields still up?” Aethan responded while Cordelia looked around the bridge for a way to restart power.

“Shields are still up, holding at 37%,” Laurian reported. “However the warp core has moved to an offline status. Life support is offline as well as weapons and...no, wait, life support just came back online.”

“Greetings, Aethan. Ships status report for Excelsior class heavy cruiser USS Repulse, NCC 2544. Warp core offline. Life support is online, navigation is offline. Impulse power is offline. Short range communications online. Subspace communications offline. Estimate computer core integration in eighteen minutes.”

“I do not posess a fine control of the ships systems. It is noted breaches on decks 36, 37, 38 and 39 are currently being held by emergency forcefields. They operate from the same system, if I drop shields I may also drop the forcefield and allow rapid depressurization of the ships habitable compartments.”

“No!” Aethan and Cordelia yelled at once, glanced at each other and then leaned against the ships stations laughing the nervous tension away.

The busied themselves with studying the bridge and its consoles, all the while getting updated information from the Silver Star's scanners. They both were startled when the main view-screen came to life showing the velvet black of space, coupled with the twinkling diamonds that brightened the heavens.

“Arti, do you have access to the ships log? Can you tell why this ship is abandoned?” Aethan asked as he reclined in one of the bridge chairs.

“Records indicate the ship was in combat in Bajoran space, attempting to retake Deep Space Nine, apparently a space station. The ship was badly damaged and unmaneuverable so the order was given to abandon ship as it was a sitting duck. It was boarded by the Ferengi eight days ago, according to sensor logs. They left quickly.”

“Arti is a success!” she tossed her arms in the air. Aethan grinned at her, forgetting for a moment that not so long ago there was a very real possibility of dying along with the wounded ship.

“Navigational deflector online, rerouting power to navigation systems. Computer core assimilation in four minutes,” Arti reported.

“Fic, when the shields come down, you should come over here. If we can get the engines online we can get home a lot faster than towing it,” Cordelia smiled at Aethan, a twinkle in her eye. “Matter of fact, we might be able to fit the Silver Star in a shuttle bay or something.”

“Navigation systems online. Impulse power will need repair. Troubleshooting. Parts replicators online. Computer core assimilated. Emergency forcefields stabilized, dropping shields,” Arti made a litany of updates, marking off his progress.

“I have the necessary data, pleas report to main engineering for work detail,” Arti responded. Fic raised his eyebrows at Cordelia.

“Shuttlebays are currently more than half empty, I am opening the bay doors to allow the small craft to land. Estimate Impulse power in three hours. Estimate warp speed in five hours. Continuing re-routing of power and command and control modules.”

Ten minutes later Arti announced the safe docking of the Silver Star in the main shuttle bay. Moments later Cordelia and Dorel embraced on the bridge, relief allowing them to drop the bravery they had to put up previously and sink gratefully together; relief was etched into their faces. Over the next seven hours they worked together, assesisng damage and using the knowledge Arti supplied from the central computer to repair the ship enough to get her moving again. Arti located and disabled the identifier beacon and provided a detailed accounting of the last battle Repulse had been engaged in.

Finally Arti announced both impulse and warp speeds available, though limited to warp five due to structural damage. Dorel slowly circled the captains chair, a real command chair on a real ships bridge, not just a dinky tug. He looked at it wistfully, knowing it would never fit on the Star.

“Go ahead, Dorel. Might be your only chance,” Cordelia laughed. Dorel smiled back and decided she was right. Savoring the moment he sat slowly and sank into the captains' chair. Laurian was at the helm, Aethan at weapons which it seemed Arti still refused to interface with, and Cordelia sat at the science station. The turbolift doors opened and Fic stepped on the bridge.

“That know it all box of bolts needs a kick in the circuit board,” he muttered while making his way to the engineering station.

“Course laid in, warp standing by,” Laurian responded. “ I like these controls, they make sense,” she said to herself.

“Engage warp drive,” Dorel said. On the viewscreen the stars seemed to stretch and the big ship leapt through the deep night towards their home. The return trip took only seven point three hours, due to the fact even at Repulse's reduced speed compared to her maximum capabilities; it was still far faster than the Silver Star could ever hope to manage. Fic continued to work on the ship as they went, taking inventories and deciding what was worth salvage and what wasn't. Hours later the ship dropped out of warp, cruising steadily towards Carlinia.

“Approaching space dock Dorel, signaling control,” Laurian reported. She paused, as if unsure for a moment then turned to face Dorel.

The Andorian nodded a greeting to Dorel, his ear stalks wiggling furiously. Dorel thought it almost appeared as if the man were shaking.

“Chandel, I didn't expect you back for another day or so. Octavian said they had engine trouble, was it not as serious as he thought?” Dorel leaned back in the captains chair.

“Engine trouble was bad enough, but I'm afraid it got much worse, Dorel.” The Andorian hesitated, and then plunged forward. “We were set upon by raiders. Caltrandia was a sitting duck, they blew out her orbitals the first pass. Zafir and Intrase jumped to warp. Cotrigus imploded, they must have hit her warp core.” Chandel looked away from Dorel's face.

“We don't know. The Caltrandia was still in one piece when we entered warp but,” he spread his hands in a helpless gesture, “we just don't know.”