Starfleet/Klingon Strike Group

Full Version: Maya Pt. 2
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75568.3 blinked on the wall outside the central shuttle bay of Waring Collective Station, a relay and hub to most non-aligned trading collectives wanting to use the wormhole.

Maya indicated via padd the shuttle was coming in on schedule.  D’ena, her first officer, growled, looking at the time and the shipping manifest of the last series of intercepts they would miss because of this unscheduled trip.
The k-class shuttle came out of warp 20 kilometers from the station’s port side.  The Bor’lea, a Walker Class blockade cruiser, was fueled and ready to head to Terok Nor.

They were eleven standard days behind the Tasker fleet, and the Andorian auction house wouldn’t be considerate enough to hold the bidding until all contractors arrived. 

Maya’s shuttle passed through the kinetic barrier and moved to pad three.  The moment Maya stepped off the vessel, D’ena was already fuming with a murderous look in her eyes.

“Fourteen days!” she yelled. “You said 30 standard hours Mora!” D’ena growled. “Just because Nausicans can’t count or eat with silverware doesn’t mean your crew can’t!” her forehead was fielding a sizable vein moving up into her hairline. “36 minutes until we have to be at warp if we want any chance of making the auction….”

Three years at her side was filled with harrowing experiences and more than a bit of trouble, but they’d grown close to the point they were finishing each other’s sentences and making plans that always seemed to be what the other was thinking until this impromptu trip she ‘had’ to take.

“Tell Kendall he can extend liberty for two more days….” She started.

“Have you lost your mind!” Her first officer interrupted her.

“No, but if you let your captain finish, she would have told you that she already secured 6 of the 22 contracts at a 3 percent commission.”

“The Walix Cartel?” D’ena asked apprehensively.

“All five with non-competes, care of Inquisitor Barras” She smugly crossed her arms over her impressively disarming chest. “No need to go to the auction after all, not until the signing at least, that’s in what, 28 days?” She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Is that what this was about?” D’ena questioned.

“I just wanted to attend the ascension of Minister Jaurus, as a good Su’Kar should….” She tried to look innocent.

“You hate parties, Mora….”  Her commander was dubious.

“Not when Terran High Command was in attendance….” She smiled.

“Ah… so leaving your crew in the dark was a ruse to get the Korgasanti on your side?” D’ena jabbed.

“I don’t think we should use that word in public, Princess….” Maya warned as they moved to a turbo lift.

“Your word, pirate….” Her commander teased.

D’ena was right; of course, they met as a matter of pure circumstance, and neither figured their relationship would become what it was today. 
The biting but affectionate push and pull between them stemmed from a series of successes that made the ‘Morakos’ name synonymous with both of them. 

Like most political alliances, the reality was less important than the effect. In this case, Maya and D’ena carried out operations under the same pseudonym. 

They had their specific penchant for the dramatic, but they were aware of their distinction and were careful to insert the habits of each other into operations to spread their anonymity and maximize their opportunities with the powers that be.

Princess, Pirate, or Mora(kos) were the only titles they allowed in public; the ones closest to them didn’t even know their real names outside of inferences of where they had come from or what experiences they may have had together.

“I suggest we head to Terok Nor even if we’re not going to participate in the auction itself; this is a good chance for us to show the competition that we don’t see them as a threat,” D’ena mused out loud.

“Agreed, tell Mackes to get the crew ready to go to warp; ten days at warp 6 is better than 50 hours at warp nine and a very agitated crew,” Maya admitted. “All of this fuss over 15 light-years,” she sighed.

Maya made her way to the dockmaster’s office to pay mooring and fuel for the Bor’lea. Inquisitor Barras would likely be at Terok Nor already; military vessels housed slipstream engines able to cross entire sectors in a matter of minutes.

This was the basis of their dominance and her reliance on the delicate attentions of the empire. She could still smell the sweat of the portly pig of a Terran on her; the sonic shower did little to erase the still vivid memory of his lust.

People were mindlessly reliant on the empire, the price of “freedom” in the quadrant.  The most powerful warlords in the quadrant were still subservient to the emperor; the empire's logistical and tactical advantage over everything was mind-bogglingly superior compared to non-allied interplanetary travel.

The Bor’lea, a walker class cruiser, was designed to act as a light battlecruiser or a chase capital ship. Due to personal alterations to the main warp drive, it had become one of the fastest ship classes in the Orion armada respective to its size, topping out at 1,516 times the speed of light or warp 9. 

The Tasker fleet trade consortium was far slower, maxing out at 384 times the speed of light or nearly warp 6; they were their biggest competitor. 
Grud’ Pasan Tasker was the captain of the consortium, and Pa’Kar as the Vulga province delegation directed. This rank allowed him to trade without direct authorization for each trade and species.  Maya’s distinction as Su’Kar was similar to the Tasker Captain, but her influence did not pass to multiple vessels. 

Grud’ Pasan hated Terrans and refused to work with Terran vendors outside the empire. His species didn’t have a sense of smell so pheromones wouldn’t sway him.  He felt that Terrans and Terran adjacent were too stupid to reasonably be trusted at their word, so he made special attention to show their inferiority any chance he got. He ruled his traders with an iron fist, and even the Terran Empire themselves asked permission before moving through his territory on non-emergent missions, a territory that expanded or changed dimension depending on who he wanted to intimidate. 
D’ena knew the non-compete contracts Maya secured would put a price on her ship and her head, but no matter what they did, Tasker would want them dead long before they got much more affluent than they were. 

Aboard the ship, D’ena commanded the crew to set course to Terok Nor; Maya beamed directly to her quarters to take another shower.
“Bor’lea to Tower: requesting permission to depart…” an eager young Andorian called out to the station’s departure command.

“Tower to the Bor’lea: Tolls and Advent paid and authorized, permission granted, perimeter defense network indicating your status as green.  You are cleared to depart.” An emotionless Bajoran slave responded absently.

“Take us out half impulse until we clear the grid. Then engage at warp 6 for Bajor.” D’ena ordered before moving to the ready room, hardly paying attention herself.

One hundred sixty defense satellites and six heavy carriers, each with more than 240 interceptors, orbited the station at eight kilometers.  A dreadnought drydock housing had been retrofitted as a capital decommissioning station nicknamed “the mothball.” It was said to have a series of ships in different stages of decomm and detention, but several defense vessels operated inside; the exact number was classified.  But if it were full, more than 36 cruiser-sized vessels could be waiting just inside the dock.  They belonged entirely to the Terran Empire, as a waystation during wartime, it mirrored as a casino, shipyard, and command center to hide its true purpose. 

The defenses and the sheer presence made it far more of a threat to opponents of the empire and served as the military reserve for Terok’ Nor. The Wayland Collective had 300 defensive and tactical batteries stationed in and around habitat rings and entertainment zones. The port was one of the most secure locations publicly accessible in the alpha quadrant.  The station stuck out in stark contrast to the rest of the space around it as a black scar in front of the massive sector-wide badlands nebula. 

Most considered it safe, but anyone with internal knowledge of the empire saw it for what it was, a posh-looking prison and a stranglehold against the development of assets by the Cardassian-Klingon empire headquartered only thirteen light-years away.
As the ship cleared the defense grid, a series of trade vessels were coming out of warp upon detecting the gravity well of the station, presumably coming from the wormhole.

Mackes the Bor’lea’s second in command was plotting a route through the congested trade lanes when his tactical station indicated a ‘stealth ship’ come out of warp directly into their path at impulse speeds.  Mackes looked at the proximity detection of the defense field and knew he couldn’t put up shields without instantly triggering a response from the Terran Defense network; they wouldn’t be able to avoid it in time.

“Brace for impact!” Mackes yelled over the intercom as the Red Alert klaxon began going off with an ominous regularity.

Several moments passed with no reaction; Mackes checked the ship’s status as D’ena and Maya emerged from different turbolifts. “Report!” Maya and D’ena called out at the same time.

Diagnostics information came in over multiple sensors, all saying the same thing: an object resembling a torpedo or small shuttle impacted with the deflector shields in the port lower quarter of the exterior hull between deck 6 and 7. “No damage, captain….” Mackes responded. “It appears it may have been flotsam or some undetermined remains of debris in the exit aperture in the trade lane.” Mackes relayed.

D'ena picked up a diagnostic padd scanning for damage to the hull; the deflectors prevented the device or debris from connecting to the ship.
“Move to the Kilmer-5 trade lane and go to warp as planned.” D’ena responded “Computer… cancel red alert…” She nodded in appreciation to Mackes and went back to the ready room. Maya was still in her robe as she followed D’ena with a perplexed expression on her face.

As the light lines of warp began to trail behind the ship Maya opened the reserve closet in the ready room removing a clean uniform from the hanger.  D’ena was facing the observation window staring out into space as though something was on her mind.

“We’re getting too jumpy Mora” D’ena spoke without turning as Maya finished slipping the uniform over her intentionally distracting curves. “We’re gonna have to be at least until we find a way to deal with Tasker.” Maya cleared her throat as she zipped up the top of her form fitting top and took a lounging seat in the captain’s chair.

“I’m not worried about the auction, sib, Tasker doesn’t have the stones to make a move there.” D’ena mocked. “But he might have something on Walix already and this could all be for nothing…” She resigned and felt suddenly less confident about their recent successes.
“Mackes, punch it to warp 9 get us to that station…” Maya spoke into the communicator layered into her uniform agree with her commander this may be too good to be true.

The light lines took a deep red shift now that the ship was moving fast enough in its warp bubble that the stars no longer registered completely disappearing from the artificial horizon. This was indicative of a more harrowing shift in desperation that marked the concern the two Morakos had been dreading.

20 hours later…

“Engineering, report?”  Sub-Commander Fourth Mate Arthis Kendell was in command at 0330 local time. “BPIC Boseman here Sir, Mix Ratio’s still operating at 94% port nacelle operating within tolerance, 30 hours of fuel remaining at max.” The third engineer or Bunkering Person in Charge, he was the single most capable engineer when it came to pushing the envelope of what a ship was capable of. “There is a slight buildup of transphasic residue in the Bussard Collectors, we’ll need to purge them at TK, and run an L3P.” His eye roll was almost audible dreading a “9-hour Linear Provisioning Diagnostic” over the comm. “Levels are still far below tolerance but we’re eleven months overdue for a retrofit, so that could explain it.” Boseman mused. 

“Mora will play springball with our heads if we can’t leave because you took the engine apart.” Kendell smirked. “Get it done Bose… Kendell out.” He turned off the communicator and sipped spice laced with cordafin, a powerful stimulant.

He looked at the navigational console and noted that they were 2.8 light years from the station it would take them just over 16 hours at current speed. Mora would be taking over in just under 3 hours, and everything was green across the board, one could almost forget that the universe was a cold and brutal place where nearly every nicety was met with betrayal in the vacuum of space.

12 hours later.

Entering the Bajor sector was not an unremarkable feat, the sector had been fought over so often during the last decade that it was remarkable any civilian outposts remained, but one by one trade convoys and slave ships sent requests into any frequency that was listening.

Maya was lying silently in her quarters studying a map her recent rendezvous had earned her, the trade was a gift for services rendered she convinced herself that she would have gotten the contracts anyway, there was no way the Terran empire was going to give the navigational data to locals, or operatives they’d never worked with before, the Bajoran sector was filled with hundreds if not thousands of artifact sites hidden in caches just waiting to be found.  They would all be Terran if command had any say.
 
The recent discovery of the wormholes gave considerable evidence that the prophets as they had been known where from other places in the region besides the inside of a tunnel to nowhere. Scans taken from enterprising but suicidal merchants in the past gave Terran engineers evidence that there was similar energy coming from different sectors and planet bodies long thought to be devoid of life, the universe was opening its doors again to discovery, this time with technology from a long dead lifeform that may be able to help the future in ways not even the emperor could have thought of.

Maya stood naked in front of the digital display on her deck window, she thought more clearly when clothing wasn’t pulling at her heightened senses.  Born Try’n Baan a red orion from Gyran colony a mining world, it was quiet and clean in some areas, but she was from an inferior family, and she was used to working in the mines. 

Her body was made for it, the overlords said, but ruddies got sick, passively weaker over time, reds would rarely last into their seventies whereas green orion seemed to be ageless some aging well into the third century of life. Maya looked down at her hand as the skin shifted in color from red, to green, the sickly peach Terran hue her job so often demanded of her. 

While she thought of her past her mind was on dozens of other thoughts simultaneously a vastly superior mind pulsed silently in her head smarter than twenty of the children she had known growing up. 

Gyran colony had been destroyed in a trade dispute it was assumed all were lost in the mine collapse Maya stole the credentials of a dead guard and waited for the orion to save at least their own. 

Either the orion were far too distracted to realize that she wasn’t the former mine guard or they were impressed with the dogged tireless tenacity the girl they had rescued showed in training, with wars and disputes commanding much of the armadas attention the naysayers to her ascension through the ranks were soon replaced, and as the armadas fell one by one to the Terran empire Maya had discovered how to play the game and get out before there was nothing left.

Maya smiled absently as her eyes tracked multiple articles and reports streaming too fast for a Terran mind to read, she was enhanced in every way that mattered but her dutiful ‘ruddy’ compassion always made her stop just short of everything she could want in the universe. 

She cared when so many of her green sisters and brothers had not, the world ending around them was a sign of business to so many but that was why Maya pushed so hard, to save the ones the universe forgot about, they would be the ones who changed the galaxy. 

D’ena was proof that her impression of her life was not folly, hopefully her choices wouldn’t get them both killed.

Gryan colony was long ago a dead world, Maya had lived 230 years and not a single wrinkle found its way onto her porcelain face.  Her powerful broad shoulders flexed with the elasticity of a gymnast in her prime, her smooth unblemished skin was warm to the touch but blooms of color would blush and cool with each breath, in public of course she could choose her species and scale patterns but in private she allowed her chimerism to run free. 

Not even D’ena knew of her unique and entirely artificial abilities. She had been impregnated with so much experimental tech there was scarcely a name for what she had become, eventually she would die a mortal, simply an organic, but stolen tech from so many worlds, so many cultures always seemed to find their way to her.

“Morakos, we’re closing on the edge of Terran space.” A deep Klingon voice came over the comm “Defense command wants our itinerary, and authorization.” 

Maya smiled and nodded as the display turned off, she turned towards her mirror to show her perfect body rippling into a seductive human body and enhance her features even more by shifting her hair from it’s deep blue to a mix of blonde and red highlights. Time to put on the charm she thought as she tapped the communicator on her side table her smartest Terran uniform materialized over her body leaving just enough to keep her audience guessing.
 
As she made her way to the door of her cabin she responded, “We shouldn’t keep them waiting then, shall we?” Maya smirked as she stepped into the main hall of deck three “Take us out of warp and prepare to get in sensor range of the first command frigate” She knew they would only give her a hassle if she didn’t speak to the person in charge.
 
In this case, that would have been Captain, Ashe Gurena a pasty homeworlder with no taste of the finer things in the galaxy but like most Terrans from Terra itself she was as predictable as she was stupid, but it kept the people above her and below her from having to do their jobs to the letter. 

She was in it because of family and that was always the best reason Maya hoped to hear through her intelligence, nepotism always meant manipulatable and Maya has chosen this look just for the vapid eyes of a bored captain, and it was probably the only thing she would need to get past this blockade with minimal time lost.

The ship came out of warp just outside of the Bajor system, but something seemed very wrong.  Maya could tell long before alerts even started going off all over the ship, Metaphasic radiation was building in the intermix relay of the main drive, the sound resembled that was flying like a bat out of hell, but it only put more and more into the failed valve.  Maya’s synthetic mind flashed with potential solutions, the only possible solution would be to drop the core and hope the shields survives the blast.

She tapped her uniform and transported to the beacon she had placed on D’ena so long ago materializing next to her sleeping friend’s body just as the first safety system activated and failed moments later, the shock rocked the ship violently tossing D’ena to the floor as the status of the ship blared over klaxons and screens, they had less than three minutes.

“Evac now!” Maya screamed into her comm, she heard no response from the bridge, the sudden jolt had thrown D’ena into a bulkhead knocking her out cold.

“D’ena, I don’t have time… oh drell!” she noticed her friend’s head bleeding, and immediately tore at her pants creating an emergency bandage. She applied the compress and lifted her commander into her arms as a device in her head activated the transporter without a word as they appeared on a modified shuttle that had been cloaked in the shuttle bay, just in case.

Maya was relieved that so many of the escape pods on the vessel were ejecting, a few moments later she saw the ships warp core floating to starboard, the ship would survive… she breathed a sigh of relief as the worst seemed to start and end so quickly.

She took the small fighter out of the bay silently to get to range just in case they had hidden guests that had caused this sabotage.
 
The interceptor had a class 3 drive allowing it to hit warp 4, which is what Maya had done clearing nearly 200 thousand kilometers in a fraction of a second then the warp core exploded a blast of metaphasic energy changed the typical behavior of the core into an implosion pulling the ship closer to it.
 
More than 30 escape pods had already been drawn into the implosion, the emotionless demeanor of Maya's perfect face didn’t shift for even a moment as she had lost dozens of those, she would have considered friends. She paused knowing if she left now, she could rebuild, life a simple life.  

Even before her emotions had registered this the rest of her was moving the ship at high impulse, she could save some of them.

She came within 1200 kilometers and began searching for life signs.  Hundreds were alive and likely going to survive the blast but so many more were blinking off the tracker one by one as they dropped into the deep implosion of the warp core.

The implosion had triggered a burst of the building metaphasic energy and moments before the beam hit the shuttle Maya had analyzed it, it was an interphasic band of radiation, she had seen it before, but only in the-


The Jetyl was moving through the bajoran sector with a trade delegation meant to begin peaceful negotiations with some of the colonies that had sprung up over the last ten years.  

Jada was the lead delegate, representing the Cerim Confederacy, and peaceful independent territory just outside the Romulan empire.

Her sister Shavi was feeding her newborn as Jada’s eldest 12-year-old daughter Jetyl’a was crooning at the profound difficulty Shavi was having at soothing her first child. Shavi’s wife Miyan had been trying not to laugh as she watched her fearless assassin of a wife crumble into the utter insensibility of caring for an infant.

“Senator?” Pauc was at navigation looking out over the long-range sensors, Jada turned to her Husband and smiled. “We have unusual reports of radiation spikes off our starboard side, 2000 kilometers” Pauc seemed worried.

Jada got up from her chair and moved to the console touching his hand gently as she looked on.  He smiled and looked back but a sense of worry was in his eyes. Terran signatures radiation was showing up on the console, but it wasn’t large enough to be more than a few dozen shuttles in size.

“Red Alert!” Jada called out.  She technically wasn’t the captain, but she held the rank of Legatus of the Cerim Defense Force long before she took the role of a politician.  The captain was a Gorn named Gu’kashi an engineer Jada had come to know from her former first officer Thraak.  He was extremely capable, but he knew better than to get in the way of the Senator.

“Sorry Gu” Jada winced and nodded to him, he just smiled and nodded to the bridge crew as the klaxons went off and the hue of the bridge shifted that deep familiar red.

“17 intact vessels coming through a broken rift in the radiation band captain, I don’t think this is an incursion captain, this was an accident.” Hashiua, a bubbly imminently qualified Orion girl reported as she worked her fingers like magic over the tactical command console.

Gu’kashi looked at Jada and they both nodded together, and Shavi had gingerly given the infant to her capable wife moving to take an engineering station.

“Clear the deck lieutenant, get as many people as you can into a safe zone.” Gu looked back at his Tactical Chief. “Keep your eyes out for anything that doesn’t look like it’s in trouble and call our Romulan friends in on this one…” He paused before speaking again. “You might as well let the federation know about the crisis happening on their front door too…” He remarked dismissively before pulling an image of the radiation band popping escape pods into the prime universe on the main viewer.

One by one they were transported into waiting shuttle bays.

“Captain!” Hashiua called out as arrays began charging. “An interceptor class escort just appeared behind the pods; it looks like it’s pursuing them!” She called out as reticles appeared on the forward viewscreen.

The interceptor seemed to correct and change course, but what first appeared to be intent was an explosion that rocked the ship off course.

“Life signs?” Gu called back as Hashiua was tracking nearly 30 ships or debris of differing sizes.

“Two… One very weak” Shavi called back.

The image of the interceptor came into view, and entire side to the hull was missing as though it was sheered off by a weapon, they could see the emergency forcefields beginning to fail but a humanoid seemed to be creating one of her own around her body and another on the floor in front of her, they wouldn’t last more than a minute that much was obvious no matter how unusual this person had been.

“Beam them both to the infirmary and get a security team to meet us there.” Gu’kashi looked to Commander Faise a talented Andorian science officer as he got up and left the bridge immediately with Shavi, Jada, and Pauc in tow.

The commander continued the rescue of the rest of the pods without hesitation, Miyan a supremely gifted ranger in her own right simply held her infant daughter to her chest as the chaos of the situation continued to unfold.

The infirmary was well equipped as the Jetyl had been used as a hospital ship during the Cerim Liberation War.  A tall orion woman materialized on a bed, and it was obvious from her bandages that she had suffered a head wound, a Ferengi doctor began working on her right away.

But the woman who appeared next defied description, she was tall and chiseled in appearance but color of her skin as well as scaling and spots forming over her exterior shifted randomly as her hair and skin rapidly changed density and muscle tone, elements of borg technology in her spine was evident when some of the skin had turned transparent. The monitors above the bed showed she was very much alive, but she was unresponsive in any meaningful way.

Jada ran into the infirmary just to see the artifact of a woman beam into the bed, she tapped a console on her wrist as she tapped into the medical computers.

“Captain...” The Commander Faise chirped in. “out of the 17 pods detected, we were able to pull 31 life signs into the cargo bay, three in critical condition but most look like they’re gonna make it. Three warbirds are at full warp, ETA 39 minutes” He finished.

“Thank you, Mr. Faise, keep us informed if anything changes” Gu responded as he walked in next to Jada.

Jada touched the captain’s arm affectionately and smiled as Pauc and her sister came in just after.

The Orion girl was already showing signs of responding…

Jada, and The Gorn Captain watched on as the cunning former saboteur and the lethal former assassin stepped into the hospital behind looking on to decide exactly what kind of trouble, they’re new guests were escaping, or perhaps what kind of trouble had they caused to get here…