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Maya Pt. 3
#1
The kinetic emitters hummed absently throughout the room as the window looking into space painted a bleak canvas of far-off stars and smudges of nebula distant in the cosmos.

              “Computer… what time is it?” The deep green sensuality of her species was evident even in her voice as the last syllable of her question lingered.

“Stardate 8 3 2 9 0.8” The computer chimed back almost musically. The holograph of the stardate floated silently in the kinetic field of the security barrier.

                              “Morakos?” a shrewd Romulan lieutenant named Vikos entered the security holding area of the U.S.S. ALMEIDA spoke out loud as he read from the PADD in front of him. “I’m trying to learn about the cultures of other worlds, but I don’t think I’ve heard the name before…” he questioned, taking a seat and looking into the cell.

              A smile touched the corners of her lips as she let out a short huff of humor. She was lying still facing away from her interrogator as the view highlighted her loose, exposed clothing leaving little to the imagination of the appeal visible over her shapely frame.

              “Pi Oranis three…” she responded without moving. “It’s a large cat-like predator; it was said to be impossible to find without technologies….” She sat up in a fluid and muscled display, her hair moved around her neck and shoulders in a controlled, almost intentional rise and fall, knowing exactly how to highlight her already tantalizing features. 

Dancer’s feet were small but precise as each muscled part of her heel could easily support her large but adaptable frame. She turned on her toes to face the lieutenant as her hair fell across her shoulders and arms, making her face stand out from the shadows of the dim room.

“Even then… more than a few hunters have fallen to her charms.” Her eyes danced in the shifting security field separating them, but her delicious intentions were as evident as the field sparkling in response to the weaponized pheromones that reacted with the barrier.

He shifted in his chair, trying not to watch her display. “Clearly… So, I am Lieutenant Faun Vikos of Starfleet Security, and this interview will determine exactly how long you will be our guest.” he cleared his throat. “It says here, a Klingon, a Captain Kav’ei Mvok’Mug, accused you of insulting his honor…” he continued, a little confused by the plausibility of what he was reading next.  “…by throwing him and the rest of his command crew into the airlock of their own ship.” he scrolled to the next page. “…and threatening to open it if they didn’t give you the command codes?” He finished, looking up at the disarmingly tender-looking woman.

“It’s unusual to find a pirate with so little background information on them as successful as you seem to have been….” He cleared his throat again, being somewhat disarmed by physical charms even if her chemical advantages had been neutered.
“Bio-scans mark an exposure to high theta-band radiation, something typical of those from the Mirror Universe, but there is no record of your transition,” He continued. “Which is statistically impossible, given your lack of decay markers” He stood and came close to the security field.

“You’re making me blush….” She intentionally forced amber blood into her cheeks as the contrast brought out her high cheekbones and hypnotic eyes.

While she spoke, a switch internal to her brain activated, and a hyper processor intentionally disguised until this moment started cataloging everything within her sightline. She picked up com ports and antennae relay discovering access points and proximity servers, her ability to transfix her prey made the apparent minor alterations to the tech in the room significantly less attractive.

“Under normal circumstances, the Klingons would have been within the rights of the treaty to execute you….” His word choice was intentionally triggering, as though he were trying to gain a sense of control over her. “but… Your bio-scans identify you as a Federation Diplomat…” he looked up at her.

“It’s a pleasure to be recognized, but I prefer “Effective Host.” She smiled as the amber in her cheeks moved in slow rhythmic patterns along her jawline and lips. Internally she was accessing the security console in his PADD to tap into the field controls while the internal circuitry of her implant was sending data bursts to an autonomous interceptor cloaked just outside the deflector shields of the intrepid class cruiser.

“Which you clearly are not…” he seemed confident in his ability over her now. “But no one thought to mark the alteration in federation records, so naturally… here I am….” His smug attitude was growing.

“This may come as a shock to only you at this point, lieutenant.” she crouched down until they were at eye level as she gained access to the control he thought had been locked. “You aren’t the only one with intelligence bureaus,” She smiled as her eyes got more stern and penetrating. “You’re not even close to the best.”

She clicked her tongue as the field powered down around her. “If only you had been paying attention…” she brought her forehead into solid connection with his, stunning him and knocking him away from the security dais. She dropped off the platform and brought a knee up into his solar plexus, crashing him into the evidence table behind him as he fumbled for his phaser.

D’ena lifted a chair, preparing to finish him as a Cardassian transporter beam surrounded her body. Vikos pulled his phaser and fired it three times at nothing but air, he called out for help, but his prisoner was gone.

The Interceptor remained cloaked as it went to warp within seconds of D’ena materializing in the equipment bay. She brought the chair still in her hands down on the reinforced aluminum bulkhead of the carpeted floor.

“Mistress,” a familiar voice called out over the intercom. “It is good to have you with us once more.” Her autonomous tactical officer named himself Oh’bot. “If you would care to freshen up, I have taken the liberty of drawing you a bath.” he finished.

“Two more seconds, Oh… just two more seconds….” D’ena grimaced as she grumbled, walking to the bar for her typical shot of Klingon blood rot she used to toast every successful mission.

“Apologies, Mistress, the tactical computer of the Almeida had detected your circumvention of the security protocol and was about to activate a transport inhibitor, two more seconds, and you would still be on their ship,” Oh’bot responded matter of factly.


20 hours later…

“Mistress…” The intercom crackled to life.

“We’re not hitting freehold on the way back. Oh… you can see your Holo in the suites like everyone else….” D’ena called out from her bed, clearly not wanting to be disturbed. 

“Comforting…” Her friend and holographic confidant returned, somewhat confused for a moment. “The, I.K.S. Khellian is decloaking 300 million kilometers to our port side,” Oh’bot continued as D’ena rolled out of bed, scrambling for her PADD. “Similarly, The U.S.S. McKenna is making its way into this system. Both seem to be sending out tachyon pulse beacons, eleven to be precise, none of which can scan us at this range….” The E.H.T. in him continued expertly said as he materialized in D’ena’s quarters.  “It’s pretty obvious they don’t want the other hiding,” He finished.

“Start scanning frequencies and see if you can track the harmonics of the tachyon pulses and adjust shields to match,” D’ena called out as she turned on the sonic shower with her panic faded.
                              “Mistress… they are emitting a general hail,” Oh’bot replied
“Main comm…” D’ena noted.

“To any Cerim Confederation vessels patrolling the border of confederacy space, we request an audience to discuss the respected sovereignty of our mutual borders. Please respond on frequency 279.441 megahertz.” The message was repeated every 120 seconds.

“Mistress, we are 1.7 hours cruising speed from the Cerim border; it is likely information shared between attachés, and the pursuing alliance will implicate our involvement before we cross into Cerim space.  He confirmed. “The proximity defense marker in the Dilithium interchange relay will make any attempts to hide from the Cerim Reactionary Force futile.
“Well, the honeymoon phase couldn’t last forever, right? Punch it up to warp eight and get us to Cerim D2 Perimeter station.” D’ena resigned as the ship went into warp. “We can’t fight the Feds on our own….” D’ena put her hair back in a ponytail and sighed with disappointment. She walked back to her quarters, starting the sonic shower and disrobing before the door shut.  “Time to face the music….” Her voice trailed as she tried to fake a smile.

              “E.T.A. 35 minutes.” Oh’bot returned over the intercom.


Jada was busy with more than two dozen trading disputes in different levels of arbitration all over her desk as one of her Gorn valets entered with a gentle knock on the door. His name was Vu’lag. He was pushing 2.8 meters, and he was aware his secondary responsibility besides taking calls for the senator was to be the one that would stand in the way of a sniper’s shot. The expectation was the same for anyone in his position, but it was what he expected and looked forward to.

“Madam Senator” His deep, graveled voice resonated clearly through the large office. “You have a priority three call from a Captain Meekis…” he was cut off.

              “He’s not getting a dreadnought, how ma—” she was cut off in return.

                “They’re hunting Morakos.” His voice hung as she didn’t have any kind of a response to that.

She straightened her tunic and cleared her throat. “Bring it up in here….”

A shorter than average yellow and blue Andorian materialized as a holograph in front of her with a Federation and Klingon ambassador standing behind him. The Andorian was clearly showing signs of his age, nearly 158 by human standards, Jada would have guessed.

He was a good officer, one of Jasen’s command crew on his first ship, the Dauntless. Now, however, he was getting pushy, claiming he needed a dreadnought as a show of force to hold off the pirate raids in his patrol route. What he really wanted was the experience on the behemoth so he could make a push for praetor.

“Madam President,” He started using her official title as president of the senate. “I’m afraid I do not come on pleasant tidings from the border….” He continued.
“Grumen,” she interrupted her officer and spoke directly to the Klingon Ambassador that she had known for years. “I am up to my spots in arbitration with your colonies. What in Sto’vak’or is going on?” She seemed considerably less than agreeable.

“If this could be avoided, I wouldn’t have even taken the call from this pa’taq fed dog that couldn’t hold on to a simple girl we handed to them on a silver plate.” Grumen was a good man; he was the first to stand up and approve of the Cerim’s independence from Klingon space.

              “If you have scanned her and checked for implants, she wouldn’t—” Counselor Braddock protested before Jada cut him off.


“You both went through considerable time and effort to reach me; if you would rather have a conversation by yourself, I’ll happily leave your choice, but you called me, so keep your tunics on and tell me what’s going on.” She directed both men. “Meekis, thanks for the arbitration; I have a feeling what this is about; I’ll talk to you in a moment.” He nodded, and his holograph vanished.

“Jada, as you probably have guessed, Morakos took the Ha’qut, a relay science ship in the Nukara sector,” He continued. “She beamed Perizine into the ventilation system and knocked out 90% of the crew. They woke up bound in the cargo bay.”
Jada, in all her experience, knew how to hide a visible smile when she agreed with what someone had done, even if it were underhanded if they did it to even the odds, but Grumen was just as impressed and wouldn’t have come this far if she hadn’t been caught. “She then took the command crew and put them into the airlock demanding the access codes for the main relay.” He probed.

“The suspect’d get the death sentence in minutes on Romulus or Qo’nos, and once we were aware that the breach happened, we used an ionic pulse to incapacitate everyone on board, we got er,’ but we don’t know exactly how much she got before we closed the port.” He looked over to the federation ambassador.
 
“She’d already been dead, but a bio-scan marked her as a diplomat, so the feds were on the line for it.” He grumbled as the federation diplomat began speaking.

“I appreciate the Klingon’s show of restraint as per the treaty, but when were received the Orion pirate.” He replied vainly, “She was quite disarmed; several scans showed no weapons or devices; we needed to know what she had access to and obviously shared the breach of information with our colleagues.”

“This isn’t the first time I’d had to deal with an idiotic federation officer.” She glared at the ambassador and intimidated him to resist the urge to interrupt. “But it is the first time I’ve heard the federation admit they were open to spying on an ally.” She smiled at the brash Klingon.

“They just don’t make ambassadors as smart as they used to, do they?” Grumen laughed in response as she turned her attention back to Braddock.

“I have the report… and as I see it, if you had waited for a Klingon security team as was your responsibility, she would likely still be in your custody….” She cut him off before he could speak. “I’ll be filing a complaint against Federation command, placing a 2% tariff on all imports from federation space, and requesting your disbarment from the diplomatic corps.” She smiled openly. “I don’t mind that you’re incompetent, Braddock; I mind that you thought it would get you sympathy….” Jada growled. “If you’d like to take this up with your superiors, I would, but understand if they don’t do everything, I just said this convo’s going to flood subspace that the federation was caught… spying.” She finished.

                Ambassador Braddock stood at attention as he was being railed, and his mouth went agape when he heard the consequence, just before Jada cut off his side of the call.


“Brother… I don’t envy the convo you will have with High Command, but I would ask you don’t go to war over the federation getting nothing for their efforts.” She pressed against the bridge of her nose. “We have an idea where she is; I’ll retrieve the info on the breach and mark it with a diplomatic cipher per your biometrics….” Jada looked up at her old combat ally. “Why can’t “peaceful” people just leave well enough alone?” They chuckled as Grumen joined in, having watched the young Trill devastate his counterpart without so much as a threat to his family.

“I don’t expect the alliance will last too much longer, too much blood and resentment on both sides, sister….” Grumen remarked, checking a device on his table. I’m sure you have much to do, as do I… Qa’Pla!” He beat his chest and dematerialized, leaving her office empty again save for her Gorn valet.

“Why can’t I just have one day without someone threatening to declare war on the other Vu’?” she smiled and sank back into her chair. “Get Meekis back up, would you, hon?”
The Andorian appeared again alone this time.

“Madam president…” he returned respectfully.

“Meek, get the fourth legion on alert and run an audit on the patrol relay system.” She authorized the actions while they spoke. “When Morakos surfaces, we need to talk to her, and I check P2; her double is still there, so I imagine she won’t be far behind.” She smiled and nodded to the captain. “Thanks for roping me in on this one… Jada out…” The Trill senator closed the call and shook her head, eventually turning to her valet.

“Pauc might want to be there when Mora arrives, make sure he is… and send him my love….” She grinned, thinking of her husband, the most effective spy she knew.
“Senator…” he smiled and left her office…



The Interceptor approached the border and dropped its cloak.
              “Incoming hail from border patrol,” Oh’bot called out.
“On screen…” D’ena shrugged and took a seat.
The image of a mildly annoyed Klingon in a star fleet uniform signaled a series of commands in his console. The Interceptor reacted as though he were accessing the controls from there.

“I have been asked to escort you personally to the hospital wing of the P2 commander.” The Klingon asked nonchalantly.

“No offense, Lieutenant, I don’t think it’s realistic for you to take command of my ship for the next 22 light-years. I know the way; I’ll be fine on my own,” D’ena responded as she noticed a dreadnought command ship drop out of warp six kilometers off the port bow.
“Oh, this comes directly from Cerim Command; it’s no trouble….” The lieutenant responded.

              D’ena watched as The Command Warbird C.V.C. Saemna came out of warp twenty kilometers off the starboard side of the Interceptor. The vessel’s entire length was shrouded behind bright pulses of white and blue light from six orbiting nacelles that made up the housing of a massive singularity warp bubble between the four equally spaced heavy wings of the dreadnought vessel. Oh’Bot seemed concerned as the monolithic wall separated from the surrounding hull to reveal a massive bay door and gargantuan cargo bay internal to the ship.

              “Sub-commander Morakos, this is P2 Trans warp tunnel; please prepare for the jump.” A different voice came in over the comm, presumably from a Heavy Waystation 22 light-years, an entire sector away. D’ena watched in shock as the Interceptor was led into a kilometer-wide tunnel internal to the ship’s superstructure.

              D’ena barely had a moment to react before the internal cabin of the small bridge filled with a blue-white light. The tunnel in front of her vanished into a void of negative energy extending around the small vessel, causing the entire frame of the small combat dropship to dematerialize and disappear into a brief flash of light. The nacelles released a coherent beam of energy in the station’s direction and then returned to the placid blue of typical star fleet arrays.

              The next moment D’ena could recall, she saw the station that housed the entire surface of one of the smaller moons orbiting the Gas Giant Y’herim three, a significant Dilithium mine that gave the Cerim confederacy their considerable influence over the quadrant.

                From trading vessels to military escorts, more than one thousand ships teemed in and out of the light coming from behind her ship. The waystation was designed as a defensive structure, but over time it had become something of a nexus to the development of the confederacy, making it one of the most critical strongholds of the region.

A tall Bajoran materialized on the bridge as D’ena was still coming out of her shock. “Welcome to P2 Commander; my name is Vice-Praetor Abbott. I am the captain of the command carrier Foundation on behalf of the Cerim Confederacy. Welcome to P2.” He smiled genuinely though his intentions were not amicable in nature. D’ena stood and saluted as soon as she was able. He nodded and saluted in return before continuing.

“I hear there is a bit of a situation that needs intent discretion. High Moon Pauc has requested you join him at berthing in the shuttle bay A-981.” Abbott smiled and nodded as he looked to someone obviously not within the direct line of the broadcasting and vanished without a second thought.

              She nodded as Oh’bot tentatively nodded in agreement as the Interceptor left the berthing area of the command ship and moved at quarter impulse the one hundred kilometers to the exterior of the closest habitat ring.

D’ena wasn’t aware of any technology that could cross so much distance instantaneously, and Transwarp, while an excellent concept, never seemed to work as advertised.
     
An authentication request came through over the central command console. As Oh’bot activated the credentials of the ship and its crew, a green pulse of approval shimmered and vanished as sensors indicated a previously undetected barrier of energy only a few meters in front of the ship...

The Interceptor moved to a port on the lee side of the central trading hub on autopilot. The ship passed through the barrier and transported the entire vessel into a very different part of P2. The planet’s interior resembled a floating city over a sea a thousand kilometers in diameter.
 
The ship dropped into a submersible bay well below the lake’s surface. Coral reefs beautifully detailed the delicate architecture of the subterranean ecosystem; as the Interceptor reached a particular depth, the reef expanded quickly to surround the vessel. D’ena and Oh’bot watched as the reef solidified and then pulled back from the ship’s exterior, forming walls of warm silicate and protein until it resembled a well-apportioned shuttle bay.

The water was displaced by air pressure and left a dry, durable caste of a manufactured coral cave.
 
              The doors of the Interceptor dematerialized, and four armed soldiers were transported into the silicate bay. D’ena shook her head as Oh’bot pulled his phase repeater from the holster that materialized over his thigh. She stepped out of the ship as the four soldiers rose their weapons to meet her and her photonic ally. They must have had some internal communication as they paused for a moment and finally lowered their weapons. D’ena rose her hands in surrender.

              “Welcome, Morakos…” A voice echoes in from hidden speakers assumptively built into the walls. “Please forgive the theatrics… we aren’t the only people watching, and they are not all allies.” The familiar voice of the Spymaster “High Moon” Pauc Besin, a Romulan telepath and one of the most dangerous allies of the Cerim resistance, now the Cerim confederacy.

“I was expecting something like this Pauc, but P2 is not nearly as predictable as I first thought, and I think that is by design,” D’ena replied, lowering her arms, moving with the escort to a larger room just off the bay’s entrance.

              “We’ve detected a rather sizable concentration of Terran insurgents, they’re a lot smarter than the federation gave them credit for, so we’re not taking chances,” Pauc responded. “You know this better than most, but we’ll talk about that when you’ve had a chance to freshen up.”

              In the interior, the four soldiers came to a halt just on the other side of the door as the coral walls grew and hardened over the entrance to the shuttle bay.
The four seemed to be conversing, but there was no sound outside of their helmets as they saluted and dematerialized in a flash of light, leaving D’ena and Oh’ Bot alone in a large room absent of anything resembling furnishings or comfort.

              D’ena pulled a tricorder from her belt and ensured they were alone before she finally let out a long sigh.

              “I assume this is about as secure as we’re gonna find until they decide what they’re going to do with me.” She was sure some kind of example would be required for the ailing Klingon empire, or the federation would be satisfied, but that didn’t mean that the Cerim government would let a successful asset simply endure whatever punishment was next.

“Computer…” Oh’bot called out. “Please furnish the room in the style of Griumkar estate, care of file Morakos beta-6,” Oh’bot finished.

A sound of acknowledgment came from the computer as the walls and floors of the room changed rather dramatically to match that of D’ena’s home on Almiga, a lifetime and a universe away. 

The suite was equipped with jamming sensors and system interference buffers that made unauthorized entry or internal detection impossible from outside the knowledge and authorization of the suite’s owner. Here, they wouldn’t be able to leave, but they wouldn’t have anyone else listening in either.

D’ena smiled at her digital companion as she moved to sit on one of the lounging sofas that had appeared throughout the room. Almiga was a very wealthy planet in the Terran Empire. Its dignitaries had specific tastes and needs more modest planets didn’t have, so the room was covered in rich fabrics known as conflict fabrics due to the people being in extreme poverty or subjugation.

Flowing fountains gave the room the consistent smell of Ji’ana Spice, a rich aphrodisiac that no longer existed in the prime universe. The scents were derived from Maya’s private collection and provided quite a market among the Ferengi and Cardassian merchant collectives. Even the federation had come to appreciate this unique scent as the invasive species was perhaps one of the rarest naturally occurring flowers in existence.

The room was a holographic suite/safe house explicitly designed for the needs of whoever would use it from patron to patron; this was a prime showroom to some or a heavenly vacation for others; holosuites had improved in every way since they first came into popularity in the 2370s. Forty years later, suites could mimic any person, sensation, or experience the patron wanted, and specific aspects of those suites could travel away from the suites enhancing the immersion of so many.

“Computer… Activate Carbon to Photonic Avatar series Mark III - Morakos-Delta-38.” A perfect replica of a D’ena appeared in the room as the living D’ena’s optical sensors flashed and went to sleep on the sofa without another word leaving the avatar entirely in control of D’ena’s sense, it would all still register in the live version’s mind, but the digital avatar would be the one experiencing it.

“Time to do what we came here to do,” she winked at Oh’ Bot as they both vanished from the room, appearing in the medical wing of the exterior habitat ring located more than 1100 kilometers from where they were only a moment before.

                D’ena walked through the promenade outside the main hospital, security trackers internal to the waystation would be able to tell that she was a digital avatar, but external detection systems would not. She and Oh’Bot walked into the main foyer of the waiting room. D’ena placed her hand on the biometric scanner as the system acknowledged her identity and transported them to a spacious medical room located somewhere else on the station, deep in a security wing of the defense sector.

In the bed on the far side of the room, Maya lay in a deep coma with her body and mind in stasis. The machines keeping her alive had to reduce her mental stress, so an approximate holograph wouldn’t be possible for her in this state. D’ena touched the side of the isolation bed. Maya’s vitals hadn’t improved since that day two years ago.

Doctor Huri, the original Ferengi that treated her on the Vetyl, walked into the room silently, watching the two from a private distance. Oh’bot was standing next to the door nodding to the doctor with a smile.

                D’ena could hear the interruption and turned to see her friend; she turned and walked to embrace him warmly a few paces away from the bed.


“How is she, Doc?” D’ena asked timidly.

“The nightmares have stopped, and the phasing in her legs has been circumvented, but so far, no improvement…” his high pitch was harder to hear in the large room. “But…” he walked to the bed. “Her body is determined not to let her die, and outside of her electrospinal cord malfunctions, there is nothing wrong with her.” He continued. “Then again, that has been the problem all along, hasn’t it?” he was speaking out loud, not blaming her but frustrated; all the same, he couldn’t fix it.
 
“Without understanding the tech in the implant, we can’t turn it off without killing her, D’” He was the only one she had told her real name to, and as far as she knew, no one else in the prime universe had any idea.

“I got the name and location of the designer, doc…” she said hopefully. “As soon as the blowback…” she stopped short.

“I know, kid… leave it with the nurse; I’ll make sure no one knows you got it to me….” He said reassuringly.

“Thanks, doc…” A tear slipped down her green cheek as she held back outright sobbing as the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in.

“Oh, gods…” she mumbled as Oh’ Bot moved to embrace her, and she lost all composure.

              The intercom interrupted them:

“At your convenience Doctor Huri, Morakos is needed in the council hall.” A passionless computer interface chirped and then went silent again.

                D’ena nodded and hugged Huri again before Oh’bot sent a file to the nurse’s station, and they both blinked away in a flash of light from the transporters.
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