USS Penumbra Sim Narrative, SD 202109.17

 

Introduction:

The Penumbra was at Red Alert in empty interplanetary space within the borders of the Breen Confederacy. Col. Travis Patterson was still technically "in command" on the Bridge, even though Cdre. Zak Taylor had rejoined him on the Bridge.

 After their passage through the Badlands, power had been restored, but the warp engines were still "warming up" and were unavailable. While they were waiting, three Zhenkarian Corsaires, nasty pirates that were originally from the Gamma Quadrant but had migrated through the Bajoran Wormhole during the Dominion War and now prowled the border between the Cardassian Empire and the Breen Confederacy, had begun harassing them.

One of the Corsaires had driven off the other two and with shields up and weapons hot, Patterson had made the demand, "I am Patterson, of the Warship Penumbra. Lower your shields, deactivate your cloak, and power down your weapons. You have 10 seconds to comply."

In Sickbay, the Hawke siblings had "stabilized" for the moment, as far as hallucinations went. LtCmdr. Katarina Hawke had transitioned from "unconscious" to "sleeping" a short while ago (she needed it!) and her brother, LtCmdr. Denovan Hawke, had managed to reattach his re-created cybernetic arm (though it still hurt like hell). They had not yet been returned to duty.

 

Bridge:

Incoming Hail

Col. Travis Patterson still sat in the Command Chair having not yet relinquished command of the ship even though Cdre. Zak Taylor had returned to the Bridge.

At the Secondary Science Station, Lt. Jackson Carshel rubbed his temples, frustrated at his inability to help down in Sickbay with the situation with the Hawkes. He muttered to himself, "Yeah, send the Science guy born from nanites to deal with crazy ex Borg."

Lt. Re'Libel Standin, filling in at the Tactical Console while LtCmdr. Denovan Hawke was in Sickbay, reported, "Sirs, the sensor shadow has parked just off the forward bow."

Patterson asked, "Have the Corsaires responded to our demands? Have they powered down their weapons and shields?"

But before anyone could answer, Ens. Proximus Filler, standing in for LtCmdr. Tabeshk Tibris at the Operations Console while Tabby had been helping out with some of the repairs, said, "Um, sirs, we're getting an incoming hail. I'm guessing it's from them. No identifying transponder code."

But Tabby had just returned to the Bridge and stood at Filler's shoulder. He leaned over him and said, "Let me see, Filler."

Filler glanced up at Tabby. "Oh, sorry, sir. Yeah, you can have your station back. Um ... excuse the settings, sir. You know I can't just use it the way you do ... everything is backwards!" Filler was left-handed and Tabby was right-handed, the controls just didn't fit.

Patterson raised an eyebrow as Tabby took his seat and Filler moved off. He turned to the Helm station, where Cdre. Zak Taylor was filling in for LtCmdr. Jason Carter, who was among the various Delta Flyers out surrounding the remaining Corsaire. "Maneuvering thrusters only, Mr. Taylor. Bring us to point-blank range." He paused, scooting forward on the Command Chair. "I wanna look this man in the eyes."

Zak smirked over his shoulder, "Can't see him yet, Colonel. But I'll put us breathing down his neck if you want."

Patterson nodded, then stood. "Tabby ... on screen."

 

Ka'Gun

Tabby answered, "On it, sir. On screen in 3 ... 2 ...," he trailed off as the screen filled with an enormous man, bristling with bony protrusions on brow and shoulder and with a bright orange frill in the center of his head festooned with various flashy gems. A nasty scar sliced across his face from right eye to the bottom left of his chin.

Tabby mumbled, "Holy sh- ...," and trailed off.

Carshel remained quiet, sipping from his cup of coffee as he reviewed the sensor data.

Zak, at the Helm, flinched as if he was going to stand, sort of a reflex, but corrected himself and remained seated, glancing up at Patterson.

Patterson assessed the huge man on the viewscreen. He said, "Nice to know you received my initial message, but ... you have not complied with my demands yet. Disengage your cloak and stand down your weapons. I will not ask you again."

The Zhenkarian on screen, for that's what he was, waved to someone off-screen, and his Destroyer-sized vessel dropped its cloak and powered down their weapons, but ... not their shields.

Standin reported, "Sir, they've powered down weapons, but ... their shields are still up. As are ours."

The vicious-looking man on the screen spoke. "Did I hear you correctly identify yourself as Patterson and your warship as the Penumbra?"

Patterson nodded. "You did, yes. Do you know why you're still alive and breathing?"

The Zhenkarian grinned, showing sharpened, shark-like, teeth. "Because you need me. I am Ka'Gun, V'rot of the Jukh'ma."

Patterson smirked, "Stand down Red Alert. Maintain Yellow Alert for now, however."

Standin adjusted the settings and said, "Standing down to Yellow Alert."

Patterson returned his attention to the Zhenkarian on the viewer, "Ka'Gun ... I was told we would cross paths with a mutual interest."

Ka'Gun gave a slight nod. "I was told to watch for a warrior named Patterson of a strangely shaped ship named Penumbra. So ... what is it you want of me?"

 

Negotiating with a Loose Cannon

With introductions done, Patterson got down to business. "We are looking for information on the Typhon Pact. More specifically, the Breen. Your cooperation would be in your best interest." He turned and made his way back to the Command Chair and took a seat.

Ka'Gun gazed around the Bridge at what he could see through the commlink. After a moment he said, "I would think having such a warship at my disposal could earn you quite a bit of ... cooperation."

Cmdr. Relok, at the Primary Science Station, cleared his throat and muttered, "At his disposal?" He glanced over at Patterson. "Um ... sir?"

Patterson frowned a bit, and stood up again. "Your ship's logs would do me just as well after we salvage it from the fragments of your destroyed vessel, and I'd be guaranteed no loose ends. So ... spare the effort of waving pride and stubbornness in my face, Ka'Gun. You give me the information I'm after, and I'll see to it, once we take what we want from the Breen, you can have what's left with no work required."

Ka'Gun laughed out loud. "Ha! You'd give me the remnants of the entire Breen Confederacy! As if you could deliver such." He paused, eyeing Patterson a moment, then continued, "Look, I think we've both done enough blustering, don't you? I think that you think that I know something that can help you with the Breen. And ... I think there's something you can do for me that won't hurt you too bad."

Patterson crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk. "I'm listening. But ... my patience doesn't last very long. I have a long-standing reputation for being a Loose Cannon ... and with a warship under my command no less."

Ka'Gun grinned again. "And you haven't heard my reputation either. But again, more blustering. Look, I could use another feather in my cap against the other Corsaires out here. Having your warship in my arsenal, or at least the threat of being able to call upon it, would go a long way."

Carshel leaned over towards Relok and muttered, "I don't like this guy, and I don't like what plans he has. I suspect double-crossing is immanent."

Relok mumbled back, "I agree wholeheartedly. I'd almost rather be negotiating with a Ferengi. At least with those you know where you stand!"

Carshel chuckled softly, "I agree, even if they are fugly as sin!"

Overhearing the conversation between Carshel and Relok, Tabby slipped out and stepped over to them. Nonchalantly he mentioned, "I might know a certain Ferengi."

Relok turned to him, "You know a Ferengi?"

"Maaayybee," Tabby drawled. "Depends on who's asking." He turned and sauntered back to his seat.

 

A Certain Merchant

Patterson glanced over at his two Science officers and Operations Chief, then back to the Commodore at the Helm before he looked back up at the Zhenkarian on the main viewer. "You already ran off two of your companions ... let's hear your offer, then."

Ka'Gun gave a dismissive wave of a hand. "I ran off two Corvettes with my Destroyer. And my reputation. I pull some weight around here, locally, but ... if I could even just claim to have that magnificent Cruiser at my call, whether true or not, my influence would grow. Can I call you my friend, Patterson? Would you come if I call?"

Relok muttered, "Depends on what he's calling us for, right?"

Patterson turned back to the Command Chair and took his seat. He addressed Ka'Gun again, "If you call, I'll answer, that I can promise ... IF you have something to offer me."

Ka'Gun slapped his chest with a flourish and gave a short bow. "Then we have a concord, warrior Patterson! And it isn't what I can offer, but who I know that may have what you seek. There is a certain merchant ...," he trailed off.

Tabby choked trying to contain himself at the phrase "warrior Patterson", but Patterson merely asked, "Who? And where can I find him?"

Ka'Gun answered, "He calls himelf Galex, and can usually be found aboard his ... what does he call it? 'Luxury cruise liner'. But ... he deals in various weapons and ... other goods of questionable origins. He would know about the Breen operations in the area, surely."

Tabby suddenly stiffened, swallowing his almost-laugh, and shut up real fast. Patterson noticed the behavior, and recalled Tabby's comment about "a certain Ferengi", thinking the name Galex sounded a little familiar.

Ka'Gun continued, "I will have my navigation officer send you the coordinates of his vessel. We keep regular tabs on its circuit. Many of his best guests make excellent ... donations ... to our cause." He nodded towards someone off-screen.

Zak glanced at his board then announced, "Receiving coordinates, Col ... uh, Patterson." He'd noticed Patterson had avoided any mention of rank, or references to Starfleet or the Federation.

Carshel muttered again, "Don't like this guy, I really, really don't."

Patterson nodded and stood once again. "Then we have an accord. And ... we'll be on our way. Be seeing you soon!"

Ka'Gun's Destroyer broke to its starboard-dorsal and accelerated just a few hundred meters above the Penumbra's hull to slip past the larger ship. Standin reported, "Sirs, Ka'Gun's Destroyer has left the immediate area ... and jumped to warp."

 

"Mother-freaking Lex!"

Relok had noticed Tabby's unusual behavior as well. He raised an eyebrow and leaned over to Carshel, whispering, "Did you see Tabby's reaction to the name of the merchant, Galex?"

Carshel answered, also in a low tone, "Yeah, I saw, but it's not my business. I know where to put my nose, and I know when to butt out."

Relok smirked, "We're Science Officers, Mr. Carshel. It is our job to probe into mysteries, right?"

Carshel gave a slight shrug. "That's YOUR job. You're the Chief, Relok."

Relok just raised an eyebrow at his young subordinate, who once would have meekly agreed to do anything asked of him without saying a word. He just stood and moved over to Tabby. "Mr. Tibris, I noticed you reacted to the name, Galex. Is this someone you're familiar with?"

Tabby just muttered, mostly to himself, "Mother-freaking Lex! Of all the people! This is going to be a nightmare."

"Mother-freaking-Lex, is it?" Relok asked. "And a nightmare? I think you'll need to explain that Tabby, but ... maybe later?"

Tabby just rolled his eyes. "Let's just say ... I know him."

Patterson had begun barking orders. "Recall the Delta Flyers and lay in a course to intercept this luxury yacht." He stood and said, "Mr. Taylor, I relinquish Command to you."

Zak tapped his commbadge, "Delta Flight, return to base. Mr. Carter, please return to Helm at your convenience."

The voice of LtCmdr. Jason Carter came over the commlink, "Aye, sir. Delta returning to the Flight Deck now."

Zak stood from the Helm and turned to face Ens. Filler, who had taken one of the Auxiliary Consoles nearby. "Mr. Filler, can you pilot this ship until Mr. Carter arrives?"

Filler jumped to his feet. "Of course, sir! I'd be honored!"

"Then take the Helm, Mr. Filler," Zak said, "And lay in the course to the coordinates Ka'Gun sent us." He turned towards the Colonel. "Mr. Patterson, you are relieved. Please resume your duties as XO."

Patterson grinned and stepped over to the XO's seat. "Aye, sir." He glanced over at Tabby and Relok and gave a slight shrug, "I said if he called I'd answer, right? Never said I'd come to his aid ... just that I'd pick up the phone so to speak."

Zak settled himself back in the Command Chair. "I think you negotiated excellently, Mr. Patterson. No promises you couldn't keep, and no binding agreements on the Federation. In fact, I don't remember you mentioning the Federation at all. Nicely done."

He looked back over at Filler, now sitting at the Helm. "Mr. Filler, as soon as everyone is secured on the Flight Deck, engage at Warp 7."

 

Engineering

Extra Hands

Down in Main Engineering, LtCmdr. Bevin MacArdry-Tibris was struggling with the cold re-start of the warp engines, trying to figure out a way to speed up the process without endangering the ship. As she worked, two tall Marines stepped through the sliding doors, SgtMaj. Derek Hines, and MstSgt. Khal'Gon.

Hines called out, "Bevin? Where do you need extra hands?" Hines was extremely skilled in the handling of explosives and other hazardous materials, and Khal'Gon was trained as a Marine Engineer. And while every Marine, especially Special Forces like the Pathfinders, were trained primarily as combat infantry, many also had some other specialty aside from their combative skills, and Hines and Khal'Gon could certainly lend a hand in Engineering when needed.

Bevin looked up and answered, her thick Scottish Brogue often nearly unintelligible to those not familiar with it, "Howdy, Hinies, iffin ye caeld chaik tha daiffirint jawnkshires tae tha sainsirs, ait waeld be aippraichatid." She'd told him that he could check the junctures of the sensor feeds, and that she appreciated their help.

Hines nodded and gestured to the half-Klingon, half-Nausicaan who accompanied him, "Khal'Gon, get to it."

The over seven-foot-tall Marine nodded and moved over to one of the consoles to begin the diagnostics on the sensor relays.

Hines turned back to the Chief Engineer, "Bevin, what about the dilithium matrix for Warp Core reset? If there's any destabilization, it could blow out the nacelles."

"Aye," she answered, "I knaw. Waeld ye gait an ait, plaise?" She acknowledged his concerns and instructed him to get on it for her.

Hines smirked and grabbed a tricorder and headed to check the matrix.

Bevin continued working the "pool table" central console of Main Engineering like it was the Chartres Cathedral Organ, shifting power seamlessly from one area to another, augmenting the shields and weapons systems, best she could. They'd been at Red Alert with the presence of the Corsaires, but now she saw the lights switch to Yellow as the alert downgraded. This allowed her to turn more of her attention to getting the engines restarted.

Finally, the engines warmed up and were ready to go to work, just as she noticed the configuration come from the Helm up on the Bridge requesting Warp 7. Finally, they were going to be moving again!

 

Sickbay

Doesn't make sense

In Sickbay, LtCmdr. Katarina Hawke, the Assistant Chief Medical Officer, tossed and turned on a biobed starting to wake up.

LtCmdr. T'Lin, the Assistant Chief of Sciences, had come down to Sickbay with some ideas on helping the Hawkes with their hallucinations caused by over-active Borg implants. She stood near a monitor where she was scouring reports and scans. As she did, she used her empathic abilities to send continuous waves of peace as a calming influence to keep the Hawkes as comfortable as she could. Dr. Shadow K'Trevala, himself a strong empath and telepath, lent his own considerable powers to easing the Hawkes' discomfort.

T'Lin spoke, "The Borg are efficient at their connections. It does not make sense for their implants to be so crudely connected."

LtCmdr. Denovan Hawke lounged on a biobed nearby. He agreed, "No, it really doesn't."

Kat woke up and chimed in, "And yet, they can be so easily manipulated." She groaned as she sat up.

T'Lin glanced at Den with an expression on her face that clearly conveyed, "Do you have any ideas?" But all she actually said was, "For it to malfunction at this stage with no discernable cause is ... strange."

Den answered, "I'm not particularly sure. The nanites fixed my arm just fine, so obviously they aren't malfunctioning." He flexed the fingers of his cybernetic arm to illustrate, then glanced at his sister.

T'Lin studied the readouts from when the nanites were working on Den's arm. "The individual nanites are functioning normally, but ... the implant itself is not." She murmured to herself, "Hmm."

Den commented, "There has been known a few things to infect Borg, but usually it's to kill, and not slowly, or cause dementia."

The holographic head of the Reconnaissance Artificial Intelligence known as MAX appeared on one of the screens. "I wasn't able to isolate the cause on my own scans while we were in the Vulcan Sector, but I was able to process ... speculation ... in regards to our previous runs, and there is evidence of a foreign signal that could be the culprit, during our failed infiltration prior to our return to Vulcan."

Kat rubbed her face with her hands, then looked over at the doorway to the room. With a start she scrambled off the biobed and hid behind her brother. "Stay away!" she called, "No! I won't go back!"

 

More Hallucinations

Den turned to soothe his sister, "Hey! Hey, hey! They aren't there!"

Kat looked wide-eyed at her brother, then gestured, "Tell that to them! They're saying I need to go back to the icy prison that was the moon you found me on." She straightened, steeling herself. "I won't go back there, Den!"

T'Lin turned to look at them. "So ... what exactly are you two seeing? I need to know exact details."

"Okay," T'Lin rubbed at her own eyes, thinking for a moment. Suddenly, she turned and began rummaging through a cabinet. As she did she asked, "Shadow, do you happen to have wart root? Or carver isle, or potil plants? I think we could mix a solution for the more serious hallucinations but I am not sure what we have here."

Shadow joined her, digging through some of his more exotic collection of potions. He picked up on the fact she was looking for something to calm psychic powers, like the Merasha drug they'd used against the Kyrathian Swarm. Apparently, T'Lin felt this might help deal with the electronic "heebie-jeebies" the former Borg were experiencing.

Den was still trying to calm his sister. "It's another hallucination, Kat." He took her hands in his. "No one is taking you back." He paused, then added, "I saw a big demon earlier wanting to kill T'Lin. I ignored it and it went away. I think it ran off because security was coming."

Shadow looked at T'Lin. "I have several kinds of wortroots, as well as anhalion, talicil and cinquefoile."

Kat noticed Shadow and T'Lin rummaging through the cabinets. She asked, "Wait, you can make something that might make me stop seeing my old collective? Great! Why didn't you say so sooner?" Yeah, she may have sounded a bit sarcastic. She turned back to the Borg Drones she saw across the room, then back to Den. "Wait, if it ran off because you think Security was coming, how do you know it was a hallucination?"

But it was T'Lin who answered her. "The best way to know is by seeing other people and their reactions. No reactions mean no threat." Without missing a beat she responded to Shadow, "Talcil? That could work."

 

"Grab, ground, grind and give"

Kat blinked at T'Lin, completely confused, and the expression could have been described as "cute". She responded, "Yes, well, that's good to know, considering they're standing right in front of you now."

"Yes," Den said, "that thing ... 'cause, they aren't freaking out." He gestured at T'Lin and Shadow digging through the cabinets. But, he didn't sound so sure.

Kat muttered, "Uh-huh. You don't sound so sure yourself." She poked him in the chest a few times and gave him a pout. Den was much older than Kat. She was just a kid when he was assimilated, and wasn't much older when she herself was assimilated. She didn't even know when he'd been found and removed from the collective and it wasn't until much later that they'd found her, alone, on that frozen moon.

Den looked at his sister and stammered, "Well, I ... um ... ," he  waved his hand through where Kat appeared to see Borg Drones. "See? Nothing."

Kat watched him, then said, "They are moving out of the way of your hand. It's not going through them since they are avoiding it."

Den shrugged, "I don't think they are moving. Maybe they are."

T'Lin ignored both Kat and Den and continued speaking to Shadow, "And I do not need wortroot. There is a specific plant I grew up with called Wart Root, crimson thorny mushrooms with roots almost as long as my forearm."

Shadow produced a small, glazed, terracotta vessel and removed the cap, handing it over to T'Lin. "Here you go. Seems like it would work to me."

She sniffed at it, squinting her eyes, and then began speaking in a strange double voice, as if both T'Lin and her ancient D'Vir mother guide were each speaking at the same time. "Talcil, Potil, Glywell, Roolunas. Block the access, block the reactions." She paused, then continued, still with two voices, "Grab, ground, grind and give. A solution for a problem. But ... not all solutions are harmless."

And then she closed her eyes, leaning on the counter, breathing heavily from the effort required to maintain the blend of two souls. She opened her eyes, turning to Shadow. When she spoke, her voice had returned to normal. "You are a strong healer, and you know what harms may come from this solution."

 

A Dangerous Solution

Shadow studied her a moment, then nodded, "Yes, I do." He added a pinch of something and said, "And adding a pinch of cinquefoile powder should ease some of the more dangerous components of the Potil."

Finally, Den looked between the scientist and the healer. "Ground, give, what?" His face took on an exaggerated look of confusion like some ancient yellow minion.

Kat had also turned to look at the others, her face a mirror of Den's confusion.

Shadow turned to them. "Kat, Den, we've managed to come up with something that will knock out the link you have for a while, but it should also take care of the hallucinations. Some of the ingredients could be considered dangerous for you, but we have done all we can to minimize the danger as well as the side effects, but we'll not proceed without your agreeing to it."

"It will what?" Den asked. Then he turned to Kat and mumbled, "Um ...."

Shadow continued explaining, "It will turn off the implants and nanites for a while, 'til everything can restart fresh, and hopefully get rid of the hallucinations."

Den's face crinkled with concern. "I don't know," he said, "That's something to think about first." He knew that both he and Kat were dependent on their Borg implants now just to stay alive. If their cortical nodes were shut off, it would be like removing the cerebellum, the part of the brain that regulates autonomic activities like breathing and heartbeat. It could kill them!