The Restless Memories of the Past

Posted on Thu Sep 20th, 2018 @ 10:52pm by Commander Rita Paris & Captain Enalia Telvan & Lieutenant Asa Dael & Senior Chief Petty Officer Syal Duran-Yeager & Emergency Medical Hologram (Adam Power) Mk X
Edited on on Fri Sep 21st, 2018 @ 8:37am

Mission: Hera v Hera
Location: Deep Space
Timeline: 1940Hrs - 16th September, 2395, Stardate 72708.3

The vastness and silence of deep space was often brilliant with its decorations and spectacles that Senior Chief Duran-Yeager Syal smiled as she reminded herself that she was out here only to deliver a consignment of supplies to her new command, the USS Hera which was presently trucking along at warp four point five and it was in the same area of space as she, herself was. She shifted her attention to the back where her rather precious cargo waited before a rather evil grin crossed her face.

Duran-Yeager tapped the display before her several times as the system computerized the expected intercept course for her. The Bajoran female smiled as she proceeded to hail the USS Hera, to alert them that she was inbound. "Hailing USS Hera, this is Runabout Delta One One Sixteen, from the USS Fe'garren, I'm hauling a consignment of supplies and equipment for you in addition to your new Chief of the Boat, may I have permission to land in your hangar bay?" the small female slowly smiled.

Communication and coordination between the ships had occurred a few times by now as the details of the rendezvous were worked out. Delta 1-1-16 was right on time where she was supposed to be. "Delta one one sixteen, you are green for touchdown. Follow the vector to the flight deck, you are cleared for pad seven."

"One one sixteen? Is that what people name their shuttles these days? That seems weirdly generic..." the flight deck chief muttered as she exited traffic control, picking up a PaDD as she moved into action. The crew were getting the idea, if you left a tablet laying around and the chatty chief came through, she was liable to carry it off and hand it to someone else.

Now the first officer tapped out the activation sequence she had down to a science now, flushing the PaDD and preprogramming it to imprint when she handed it off. Smoothing out her gold mod mini dress, Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris ran her fingers through her tomboy short hair as she marched across the flight deck at that brisk military pace of hers. The unconventionally uniformed officer was headed for lucky Pad 7 to greet the new Chief of the Boat. Who was somehow the liaison between the enlisted and the officers? At least according to the computer.

Time to find out what Starfleet had sent the Hera this time.

Meanwhile, Duran-Yeager nodded her head. "Confirmed. I have the beacon," she commented. "I have ten tons of gear aboard, all marked for various departments so I'll drop the crate when I land, this bird has to head back home as soon as she's done."

"Copy that," came the response, within moments the Hera grew from a small speck of dust on the astral winds to a full-sized Starship and within moments, Duran-Yeager had landed the runabout in the hanger, the space before her was truly huge as the majority of deck four was used by this single space as the small Bajoran quickly found her landing location before guiding her Runabout to her landing site without any issues whatsoever.

Duran-Yeager sighed before she stepped off of the runabout, she glanced around at the gigantic space that was large enough for three entire decks, she smiled as she took a moment to brush the hair from her eyes as she took in the scene before her. "Now this... is a sight to see." before she sighed softly while she slung her pack over her back, she turned to find herself face to face with a woman who was wearing a uniform from the middle of the last century, she had no idea whatsoever of who this person was and the look on her face said as much. "Hello. Permission to come aboard?" she inquired of the taller female before her.

The smile never faltered, but the left eyebrow hitched slightly. "I'll assume that you're Senior Chief Petty Officer Syal Duran-Yeager. Permission granted, Chief. Welcome to the Hera- I'm Rita Paris, the first officer." The anachronism on the flight deck extended her hand in greeting.

"Its good to meet you, Rita." Duran-Yeager gently shook the other woman's hand in the human style as she shook it when there was a loud banging sound as the Runabout dropped the large crate it had been hauling before the runabout began powering up, clearly intending to depart right away.

The runabout looked odd without its cargo section as it slowly moved forward and out of the hanger, before heading back into space, there was a sudden bright flash before the runabout shot forward, clearly entering warp as she began her homeward course.

Meanwhile, Duran-Yeager gently adjusted the pack on her back. "Yes. I'm Senior Chief Petty Officer Syal Duran-Yeager," she commented with a soft grin. "For if I am not, then someone owes me a damned good explanation."

"Thought we'd established that, but all right. Is there a cargo manifest for that or is that just your personal goods?" the first officer asked of the crate. The runabout being in such a hurry to depart was a little suspicious, but the sensors had cleared the vessel and the cargo long before they'd approached the Hera, so there was no need for paranoia.

Of course, sometimes a little paranoia could do you some good.

Duran-Yeager regarded the other woman in silence for a moment, while she realized her attempt at humor didn't go anywhere. The small Bajoran produced a PADD as if from nowhere. "Oh, right," she commented. "Its a general consignment of supplies for various departments, some rifles, and grenades for security, some kits and materials for engineering, mostly the average stuff that tends to come last before deployment." the shorter-then-average Bajoran female added. "Why, were you waiting for something that was never delivered?" Duran-Yeager asked a moment later.

The blonde's eyes narrowed. Where did that PaDD come from, and the fact that the 'senior chief' hadn't handed her the manifest was definitely not abating those suspicions. "All right, Chief, let's get you onboard, shall we?" With that, the commander pivoted on her high-heeled explorer's boot that no one in Starfleet had worn in a good dozen decades, and began marching fore, apparently assuming that the enlisted personnel would know to keep up.

Duran-Yeager raised an eyebrow as her question wasn't answered. "I'll contact my husband and let him and our children know that I have arrived safely. After I settle in of course." the short Bajoran female then slowly smiled. "Or does our mission not permit it?" she inquired.

"That would be a conversation for the captain, and after you've finished onboarding." Paris handed over the PaDD she had been resting on her hip as her suspicions grew. Immediately wanting to use the comm array, noted. "Here's your welcome aboard package, including your quarter's assignment, maps of the Hera, limited computer access and some appointments to keep. You need to check into the command in order to have full access, so that means a meeting with the first officer, a meeting with the captain, a physical and a session with the ship's counselor. Once everyone signs off, you'll be checked into the command, and be granted full access for active duty. Once you are on active duty you will have access to the comms. Whether you can phone home, as I said, would be the Captain's prerogative."

As the two women walked, the martial stride covered distance well... which was handy given the size of the Hera's flight deck. Although the chief didn't seem to fall in step with Paris' martial stride, which was a significant oddity to the old-school officer.

Duran-Yeager nodded. "Sounds good to me," she answered in an upbeat tone of voice. Duran-Yeager followed the taller female officer through the hanger. "It shouldn't take me too long to settle in. I didn't bring much with me." she shouldn't put off her curiosity any longer. "Is that the uniform for the Hera?" she inquired with a measure of trepidation.

"Just for the senior enlisted," Paris replied as they covered ground across the flight deck.

Duran-Yeager raised an eyebrow. "I feel I should protest. I don't think I have the figure for it," she replied to the taller female's statement which she had not been expecting.

As the duo approached the pressure doors leading off the flight deck and into the Hera proper, Paris tapped the antiquated Starfleet emblem on her left breast. “Security, this is Lieutenant Commander Paris. Activate a level 3 forcefield over the crate on the flight deck, pad 7. I want Security and Science to clear it as I have suspicions about it and its cargo. Flight Control, recall that runabout that just lit out of here like its nacelles were on fire. If they won't return come about and pursue on my orders. I’d like a good long look at it and a discussion with the pilot. Gentlemen,” Paris paused by the two security personnel standing guard at the hatch. “Phasers out and set to heavy stun. Take the Senior Chief into custody. If she makes anything remotely resembling a fast move, stun her. You’ll be escorting us both to Sickbay.”

The unconventionally uniformed officer then continued marching into the Hera, clearly expecting the entourage to keep up.

Duran-Yeager glanced left and then right at the two guards who followed her and the ships executive officer, she knew that she could either cooperate or end up in a cell and while she had done nothing wrong, that would not help matters either. But rather than protest, she held her silence and followed.

Dead silence. No note of surprise, no protest, no attempt at reason. Just sizing up the Security boys and coming along. Paris hoped whatever was in the cargo bay wasn't deadly, and that the forcefield she’d thrown up would hold. Arriving at the turbolift, Paris tabbed the down button and eyed the woman with the nose wrinkles- the Bajorans, the ones parked next to the stable wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant, where the Dominion had come from. At least, she was reasonably sure. The universe had changed a lot in a century and change, and it was a lot to remember.

When the turbolift arrived, Paris stepped in first, turning to face outward as the others stepped in as well. "Deck 12, please," she asked as she tapped her comm badge.

"Paris to Telvan. I think you'll want to join me in Sickbay, Captain. We may have a situation."

Duran-Yeager raised an eyebrow as she regarded the Executive officer. "Yeah, we definitely have a situation brewing," she commented as if nothing was wrong.

As they exited the turbolift on Deck 12, the quartet made their way into Sickbay, the subdued chief between the gold-clad security personnel and the gold-clad commander. Knowing the captain, she had likely beaten them down here somehow, or she'd be hot on their heels. At any rate, right now Paris needed a doctor... maybe two.

"Computer, please alert Doctor Dael that we require their services and a quarantine room and activate the emergency medical hologram. Thank you."

"Please state the nature of the emergency," the EMH popped out with automatically as the British hologram shimmered into existence.

Dael came into Sick Bay at a trot, obviously having run at least part of the way. "Lieutenant Commander, how can I help?"

The spotted captain was close behind those that entered sickbay, having sensed the urgency in her first officer's voice. Seeing the woman with her, she had an idea of what the issue was. Her new chief of the boat was three days late and if Rita had suspected anything...

Rather than asking for a situation report, she just stepped over to one of the sickbay consoles and tapped in the orders to erect a level ten quarantine force field around both sickbay itself and the woman in question. As the fields snapped in place, she turned back to her first officer. "I assume that since Chief Duran-Yeager finally arrived here, and we're all here in sickbay, you have suspicions about them. I'd like to know why her runabout was late as well but we'll get to that once you explain the situation."

The old-school first officer took a deep breath. She might be wrong, and if there was, there would be hell to pay. But Rita Paris trusted her gut and every instinct she had said this was the right answer. As she spoke, she began pacing, as Paris was wont to do.

"When the Chief onboarded she didn't ID herself before requesting permission to come aboard. When I introduced myself as Rita Paris, the first officer, she called me 'Rita' right there on the flight deck. A real chief would rather eat glass than screw up a simple onboarding on the flight deck in front of the enlisted, and I don't care how senior a chief you are, unless you order them so they are never going to address an officer by their first name, again, on duty on deck in front of the enlisted. That's a terrible example to set."

The girl anachronism continued, hands moving as she spoke, working her way through the sequence of events. "Then the runabout drops this huge cargo box and literally could not get away fast enough. If they haven't turned around we should currently be in pursuit, FYI ma’am. So that made me suspicious.”

“When I asked for a cargo manifest, she literally stared at me like I had two heads. Then she pulled this PaDD out of nowhere and lists off a few things, then puts the PaDD away. Not hand it to me to inspect, just offer me a few highlights and stash it again, somewhere. Then she wanted to use the comm array to call her family... on the top secret ship on the top secret mission. Which, again... it was just a few too many things not right, ma'am. Maybe chiefs are much more lax these days, but a senior chief? No way.”

"Boys, relieve the senior chief of her bag, if you will..." Paris ordered. Which was when it all went sideways.

Duran slowly smiled before she reverted to a gelatinous state, suddenly she lashed out at everyone present with tendrils, only to have them all smack into the containment field before she completely reverted back to a full gelatinous state, she then began seeking a path out of the trap that she found herself in.

A few moments went by as the changeling attempted and failed to find a way out before she decided the ghost was up. She then suddenly reformed into a Founder. "Hello.. " she greeted everyone before her.

"Wow... uh... what, ah, what race is this...?" Paris asked, bewildered by the spectacle of a shapeshifter.

"Gr-gr-greetings founder," Asa replied, "Before anyone gets injured, may I ask who you are and to please stop?".

The Founder regarded Paris. "Amusing," she responded, while she regarded the tall female before her.

"Well, that simplifies things a little." Enalia wasn't happy about there being a Founder onboard but considering Vaemyn's presence... Or recent lack thereof... It wasn't a surprise. "So what brings you to the Hera? Last I checked, we had nothing to do with the Dominion and the Vorta stationed here was free to live his own life."

"To tell you the truth Captain. I had never intended you or your crew any harm. I was... simply curious." the Founder paused. "I have been out in space alone for a long time, since the end of our war with you and I wanted to see if you still harbored hostile feelings towards the Dominion." she paused. "I confess, I was not expecting the welcoming committee." She spoke slowly and clearly. "However, I do wish to return home, back to the Dominion."

"Where's the real Senior Chief Yeager?" Paris asked with an edge in her voice.

The Founder smiled. "Oh, you mean that handsome Bajoran female I impersonated... Oh, she's alive. I did not kill her if that's what you mean." she paused a moment. "She is still on the Runabout that departed from here. The pilot is an Orion slaver." the Founder shifted its attention to the trill female.

With a nod to the Captain, Paris turned to bounce off the quarantine forcefield. "Ah, I should go make sure we catch that runabout ma'am if you could...?"

Nodding to her first officer, Enalia turned back to the sickbay console to pop a hole in the quarantine field for Rita so she could turn the ship around and get that runabout. "Do what needs to be done to get it. And toss that slaver in our dankest brig cell."

“Aye aye, captain,” Paris replied with a curt nod before bolting out of Sickbay at a dead run. If the new Chief of the Boat was on that runabout, there was no way it was getting away from the Hera. Slavers held a special place in the captain’s heart, and woe betide that kidnapper when the captain got hold of him.

Turning back to the changeling, Enalia addressed the unknown element in the room. "As for you... We have no hostilities towards the Dominion or the Founders, but as you're on one of the most classified Intel ships in the fleet, you'll understand why I have to detain you for later questioning. Doctor, if you would be so kind as to acquire a stasis container?"

Asa quickly moved to a storage closet at the rear of sickbay and located a cube, approximately half a meter on each side. While the changeling's view was obscured by the storage closet, they loosened their phaser in its holder and set the stun setting to 5- the best-known setting for disabling a founder if needed. Doctor Dael returned to the main room and placed the cube in front of the not-Yeager and said, “This should be large enough, correct?”

"It should be far bigger than needed. EMH, we'll have you verify that they're inside and seal it." Turning back to the console, Enalia adjusted the security forcefield to encompass the container and the EMH as well as the Founder. "Hop in..."

The Founder regarded Enalia in silence for a moment before she did as she was bid, it was better than causing more issues, she allowed herself to revert to a gelatinous state and she proceeded to enter the stasis container.

Once the Changeling was inside, the EMH secured the lid and sealed it, setting the stasis container on and nodding to the assembled crew. "All secure."

Asa began immediately scanning everyone, checking for injuries, and also any slightly anomalous readings. As soon as they concluded no one was in mortal peril, they turned to the crew and said, "Blood samples, now, please. Doctor, would you please be so kind as to start with the security crew. Sleeves up everyone!"

The EMH grabbed a kit and started taking blood samples, testing each of the crew one at a time. The security guards tested fine, then Asa, then the Captain. "That just leaves Commander Paris."

Enalia's expression hardened as she considered this. "Then transfer to her location and get a blood sample from her immediately. No explanation or excuses. Also, have security run through the whole ship and that cargo with low-level phaser sweeps known to disrupt changelings." With a nod the EMH shimmered out of existence, presumably to carry out Enalia's orders.





Post-credits scene

"Are we within range to engage the tractor beam?" Lieutenant Commander Paris called from the command seat as the pursuit neared its conclusion. Which was when a being shimmered into existence next to her, and Paris was out of the chair like a shot. She relaxed when she recognized the EMH, but was keeping one eye on him and one eye n the main viewer. "Ah, little busy here, Doctor..."

"No worries, won't take a moment, just need to test your blood, make sure you're not a changeling or carrying some of them on you," the photonic physician explained glibly.

"Wait, are they contagious? I shook its hand!" Paris looked at her right hand in horror as the being of light and forcefields and replicated materials casually took a blood sample. Analyzing it as he waved the tricorder over the excitable executive officer, he frowned.

"Nooo, seems you're clear, Lieutenant Commander. Ah well, pity. Would've been exciting if you were a changeling too, wouldn't it?"

Even in pursuit of a runaway vessel, all eyes briefly turned to the EMH.

"So yeeeeeah, I'll go report the good news, roight," the British hologram nodded, smiling nervously before he shimmered out of existence.

There were a few seconds of silence on the bridge, then Paris pointed dramatically toward the viewer. "Tell me you have that runabout, Mister C'hiraud. The captain wants that ship, and by gum, she'll have it!"