The Wolf and the Fox (Part 3)

Posted on 10 Nov 2018 @ 9:34pm by Commander Rhyan

2,089 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Empty Creche
Location: Wolf-359 Debris Field
Timeline: ED1 1900

As the rematerialisation sequence ended, Rhyan felt the unmistakable lurch of his stomach as they floated in a zero gravity environment. The Vulcan panned his helmet sideways to ensure that Lieutenant Tigan was still with him, and he was thankful to see her grinning nervously in his direction. Not comfortable with weightlessness, Rhyan activated the magnetic function on his boots and immediately felt himself drawn downwards towards the deck plating. He hit the deck with a gentle thud, followed a few seconds later by a second reverberation when Aeryn did the same. He took a moment to get his bearings before addressing his crewmate.

“Are you okay, lieutenant?” He asked, looking in her general direction. Rhyan could see some mild relief in the facial features behind Aeryn’s helmet visor, although the way her brow furrowed told him that she was still concerned for their future. Obviously she had no idea of where they were, or why they were there; Rhyan had omitted the details before their hastily planned escape from the Aoraki.

Aeryn took a few clumsy steps towards Rhyan, getting used to manoeuvring her EV suit in a gravity-free setting. She faced her senior with a confused expression brewing in her face. “I am fine, commander. If you don’t mind me asking, though, where are we?”

Rhyan looked around the dimly lit bay they had materialised into; it was devoid of light except for the dim glow of orange from a door-sized hull breach on the upper level and the emergency flashlights that had self-activated on the wrists of their EV suits. Many cargo containers and Starfleet-issue equipment floated throughout the cavernous space, which identified it as a Starfleet cargo bay. Despite being at least twenty-four years old, the bay was almost identical to those on board the Redemption. Briefly illuminating one of the larger containers, Rhyan was relieved to see some corroded writing that confirmed they were in the right place.

“This,” he said, illuminating the cargo container again for Aeryn’s benefit, “was the USS Bellerophon, a Nebula-class vessel. Registry number NCC-62048.” He flashed his torch around the bay, looking for anything that could be of use to them. Nothing made itself obvious.

“Okay, so that answers the question of where we are. My next question is why we are here?” The lieutenant took a few more steps, more confidently this time, to explore her immediate area. She seemed to have the same idea as Rhyan, searching for anything of use. The Vulcan knew that what they needed would not be found in the cargo bay.

He started to move around, clunking about the deserted cargo bay, this time searching for an exit into one of the ship’s corridors. For every step he took away from her, Rhyan could sense Aeryn taking one towards him, ensuring that they were no further than a couple of meters away from each other at any one time. He understood her need not to be left alone in the unsettling environment of this lifeless space; it stood as a reminder of the massacre that took place a decade and a half earlier. A glimpse of a corpse in the corner of the room, wearing the standard operations uniform of the time, didn’t help their mood much.

As he spoke to answer the lieutenant, Rhyan’s lungs continued to burn from their exposure to the vacuum of space on board the Aoraki. “I knew that the runabout had no chance of survival against the Confederacy, so I needed to let them destroy it and think that they had killed us in the process.”

He thought back to the moment that they had transported off of the runabout; the exact same moment he had set one of the torpedoes to detonate in its launch tube. “I destroyed the Aoraki at the same time that we transported over to the Bellerophon. The anti-matter explosion, I hope, will have overwhelmed the Confederacy’s sensors, in effect masking our transporter signal.”

“Ingenious,” Aeryn said, a little more life about her now. The news that the Andorians would not be pursuing them apparently sat well with the Trill.

“It was the only,” he paused, cringing to himself at what he was about to say, “logical action to take.”

“And why the Bellerophon?”

Rhyan’s flashlight located the cargo bay exit as she asked the question. Both he and Aeryn made haste towards it. “When we first entered the Wolf system I scanned all the debris for places to potentially hide the Aoraki from the Andorians,” he said, now standing against the bay door and using brute force to attempt to prise it open. “Obviously that plan didn’t quite pan out, but I did register that the Bellerophon was the most intact of all the vessels here.”

Aeryn appeared impatient with Rhyan and walked away from him. When she returned she requested that he stand back, outstretching her arm and aiming a phaser directly at the door. The commander complied and watched as she started to cut a hole in the airlock door. “You were saying,” she said, apologising for interrupting him.

“As the most intact vessel,” he said, “the Bellerophon is the most likely location of a potentially functioning shuttlecraft or runabout. In effect, I sacrificed the Aoraki in the hope of finding a replacement here.”

“That was quite the gamble, commander.” Aeryn’s arm held steady as she continued to burn her way through the tritanium door. She was approximately half way round the two-metre sized hole.

“Did we have any other choice?” Rhyan replied sarcastically.

The lieutenant smirked. “Did I ever tell you about my last trip to Risa? I wouldn’t say I am averse to a bit of gambling.”

Rhyan resisted laughing at Aeryn’s comment, making a mental note never to accept a trip to Risa with her. He watched as she cut away the last few centimetres of metal, leading to the collapse of the inner segment of cargo bay door. Where he had expected to hear a metallic clank, all he noticed was a slight vibration through the boots of his EV suit.

Both science officers stepped through the generous opening and started to follow the corridor around to its right. Their movement was slow but steady; the EV suits holding them back from their normal paces. If Rhyan’s memory of the Nebula-class was correct, the shuttlebay was likely to be accessible from the deck they were currently on, saving them from navigating the turbolift shafts or Jeffries tubes. He doubted the EV suits would fit in the Jeffries tubes anyway.

“So tell me this,” Aeryn said, using small talk to ward off the demons surrounding her on the Bellerophon. “Who was that woman talking to you back on the runabout?”

Rhyan did wonder how long it would take the lieutenant to ask him that question. “That was Shrell, a high ranking member of the Confederacy. We met nearly two years ago when the Redemption was ordered to track down President G’ath’s assassin.”

“And?” Aeryn said, wanting more from the Vulcan. Impatience seemed to be a regular trait in the young Trill.

“And, she was the assassin,” he said, coldly. “She was working in league with our chief security officer at the time, Lieutenant Tarran. Between them they murdered several of the Redemption’s senior staff, plus one of my science officers. I was able to stop Tarran, killing him in the process, but Shrell escaped.”

They rounded a corner and Rhyan immediately recognised the shuttle bay doors; his transporter coordinates were more accurate than he had first thought. He glanced at Aeryn, non-verbally telling her to do the same to the shuttle bay door as she had done to the cargo bay door. She immediately raised the phaser to the door and activated the orange beam of charged particles that would begin to cut away another opening for them to pass through.

While they waited, Aeryn couldn’t help but ask another question. “So you and this Shrell have history then?”

“Only in so much as she killed some people that I cared about, and I killed someone that she cared about.” It was the truth.

“Ah. Sounds a bit like me and my ex,” she announced, jokingly; he hoped.

After a few minutes of silence, Aeryn managed to expertly cut her way through another of the Bellerophon’s doors. Stepping through, the science officers surveyed the deserted shuttle bay for any type of craft that would get them to Earth in one piece.

Most of the ship’s shuttlecraft were missing, presumably launched during or after the fatal blow to the Bellerophon. Two options remained, neither of them a runabout. Rhyan knew that the chances of them finding a runabout were unlikely, as very few of them had entered service by 2366. Instead they had the choice of a type six, or a type seven shuttlecraft. Looking at each other, Rhyan and Aeryn started walking towards the type six craft as the other was visibly damaged from a nearby-exploded conduit.

“What are the chances it is still functioning,” Aeryn asked as they approached the shuttle. It was named the Aries.

“I don’t see any external damage, so the warp core and power systems should still function.” Rhyan approached the rear of the vessel and tried to find the access panel to lower the rear door. He found it buried under two and a half decades of dust and debris, wiping it away and pressing the open command. The shuttle immediately responded by lowering the access hatch, a gush of atmosphere escaping as it did so.

Rhyan, in a rare move, smiled; his gamble had paid off.

When the ramp was finally down, they both scrambled inside the craft and took up positions in the cockpit. With a simple touch of Rhyan’s gloved hand the shuttlecraft lit up and erupted to life. Ever the cautious officer, Rhyan made sure to keep the craft’s power levels at the bare minimum until he was certain the Andorians were not still lurking around the debris field. The rear hatch slowly started moving back up and closed with a reassuring thud. Oxygen and nitrogen immediately started to pump into the cabin, increasing the atmosphere and temperature as it did so. Within a few minutes Rhyan was able to detach the helmet of his EV suit and be rid of it.

“All systems are fully functioning.” The excitement in Aeryn’ voice could not be missed.

“Don’t power up the warp core just yet,” Rhyan said with caution. If he knew Shrell, she wouldn’t just leave the Wolf system without making doubly sure that he was dead. He wanted to run a low-energy sensor sweep of the area before they lit themselves up like a firefly on a dusky summers evening.

“Understood,” Aeryn replied understanding his hesitation. “Permission to get out this damned suit?”

“Only if I can do the same,” he responded, eager to get out of the bulky suit himself. They took it in turns to remove their suits and monitor the sensor scans of the debris field. A few minutes later the suits were piled up at the rear of the craft and both science officers sat back down at the pilot’s stations, wearing only their uniform pants and teal undershirts. Rhyan’s bare feet were cold against the cool deck plating beneath them.

“The sensors are showing nothing nearby,” Aeryn said positively. “What now?”

“Power up the warp core and prepare ourselves for launch.” Rhyan leant forward in his chair and looked out through the cockpit window. The large hangar door was thankfully open, meaning no dramatics would be required to exit the Bellerophon. From there, he hoped, it would be plain sailing to Earth - Shrell none the wiser that they had evaded death.

What they did when they arrived on Earth was still a matter for debate; the Andorians had succeeded in not only destroying the only sample of the anti-virus they possessed, but also all the research Aeryn had conducted since they had departed the Redemption. With any luck, Captain Barron could retrieve and transmit what data was still stored in the Redemption’s databanks, but Rhyan feared this would not be timely enough to help the President. All they could do was get to Earth and do their best.

Unfortunately Rhyan feared that his best might not be good enough on this occasion.

 

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