[Event Log](https://next.storp.org/public/d/110-among-the-stars-all-transcripts/10) ### Six hours after the initial arrival of the flotilla... Captain T'Mir N'Nari had been in command of two [i]Nez'rel[/i] vessels in the course of his long career. The previous vessel of [i]Excelsior[/i]-class to bear that name had been destroyed in the last weeks of Dominion War when Breen made their hit-and-run at San Francisco. What was little known that three more targets were attacked as a matter of diversion and Macadarna was one of them. Macadarna was, however, luckier as than the Federation [i]de facto[/i] capital, as Macadarnan Caitians had always been battle ready due to Ferasa Prime in the close neighbourhood. And the strike force aimed at Macadarna was significantly smaller. Previous [i]Nez'rel[/i] chased away the Breen attack group, but the cost of its own existence. Luckily, T'Mir had ship evacuated in time for the entire crew to flee, himself included. It took 45 years before another [i]Nez'rel[/i] was built. now as an [i]Aspero[/i]-class carrier. A flying fortress, packed up with [i]Stalker[/i] fighters, 3000 Caitians who served under him, of which 800 belonged to Caitian Marine Corps - ground troops who were on par with Starfleet's own Hazard Teams. Even at age of 122 Earth years, T'Mir's mind was spilling out his vitality. Only his chestnut brown mane seemed to gray out. And yet, the last six standard hours had drained him more than planetary evacuation exercises that were conducted once a standard year on Macadarna, of which [i]Nez'rel[/i] was always a part of. It had become a tradition among Macadarnans, just in case Ferasans ever changed their mind. Nothing was going well for him in this attempt of evacuation of Hespera IX - a Federation colony in the fringes of Alpha Quadrant, beyond the closest Tzen'kethi listening posts. Flotilla had consisted of several vessels, but [i]Nez'rel[/i] was seemingly the only one to fail in providing direct evacuation support. T'Mir could not blame his crew though. As a carrier, his ship housed an advanced flight control center with a computer system separate from the ship's mainframe which coordinated 150 fighters once they were deployed outside their hangar bays. But colonial traffic, or rather the lack of it, was too much even for [i]Nez'rel[/i]. Two passenger ships had collided in the upper atmosphere just as the relief flotilla arrived, even though [i]Nez'rel[/i] flight control center successfully tapped into colonial traffic control system. Were it not for [i]Adamant[/i], Borg Cooperative vessel, and Romulan R.R.W. [i]Dhae’Rhian[/i], their would even bigger loss of life. Unfortunately, a piece of debris created in that collision fell right on the fusion power plant located outside the main settlement, causing complete power loss across the colony and subsequent radiation spread in its vicinity. Something that Chief Petty Officer Ki'lana was now worrying about down there. "And it hasn't stopped there, Chairman Shissar.", T'Mir told Kor'rin, currently acting leader of Macadarna, until new elections came about. "On top of all these mishaps, Captain Shallas and her crew aboard U.S.S. [i]Weytahn[/i] think they have discovered the cause of this tectonic ruptures. Apparently, there is something deep in the planet, generating a powerful bio-electric signal which causes the planet to fall apart and serves as a massive transporter inhibitor." "Bio-electric signal?", Kor'rin said from the view screen in T'Mir's ready room. "An intelligence of some kind." "Shallas is uncertain, but that is how I interpreted her initial report. With the loss of the fusion plant, I had the entire Marines' contingent deployed to the planet. Search and rescue, and minimizing the radiation damage. This ship now serves as a communication center, a power battery, a barracks and a possible triage center. [i]Adamant[/i] is the only other ship whose size is somewhat on par with a geometric scale of this disaster.", T'Mir said. "That is not to say that others are not up to the task. The Romulans and our colleagues from C.D.S. Forde are doing their best to locate Professor Keating, colonial chief science officer." "You said that in his last transmission he stated there was nothing to worry about, correct?", Kor'rin asked after a few moments of silence. "Yes. Why?", T'Mir acknowledged with a concern in his voice. "I wonder... if there is something alive causing all this... perhaps this Keating was sure he had established a way to communicate with whatever is down there.", Kor'rin concluded. "Well, if he did, it seems he angered that thing.", T'Mir said. "But I will know more soon. Is Macadarna ready for potential refugee influx?" Kor'rin nodded. "We are preparing provisions' distribution but the shelter sites are up and running." T'Mir allowed himself a discreet smile. "Alright. I must head out now. Captain Shallas wishes to brief me and Captain Zohl on her crew's findings. I will have Ensign Ssari send fresh reports to You, Chairman.", he said and paused. "Oh, and one more thing, Kor'rin. Your son is down there, coordinating our Marines. It seems his MACO training paid off. You should be proud." "I am, T'Mir. Just bring him and everyone else back, safe and sound.", Kor'rin said and sighed. "Go now. Kor'rin out."

### Hespera IX – Surface, Primary Settlement Perimeter > The following takes place directly after an interlude session recorded here: https://next.storp.org/public/d/110-among-the-stars-all-transcripts/11 The holo link failed in a haze of static and intermittent light, and with it the briefing room of the USS Weytahn vanished. Zohl remained still for a moment. He was standing on the holo-projector in the governor’s office just as a renewed tremor could be heard and then felt rolling through the foundations once more. Around him, emergency teams worked to re-route power feeds and reinforce what little of the communications grid remained intact. Something which was proving increasingly hard given the radiation spread. The air smelled of ozone. Zohl would need to follow Chief Ki'Lana's advice soon and get himself into an EVA suit. There would be some nearby, he hoped, because he'd need one. He had said he'd ensure the Professor's records at the settlement's research campus would be checked and transmitted, but he knew this would be a task for him. Who else could he call upon; most of those present were not his crew, and he would not put civilian lives in jeopardy to go acquire these files on his behalf. He explained the situation to those around, the governor included. They'd be evacuated shortly anyway. He donned an EVA suit and set out into the ash filled settlement's streets. The research campus lay on the eastern side of the settlement, farthest from where the debris had fallen. They were a collection of low, reinforced structures set amid the very fields that had made Hespera IX valuable as a research agrarian world. Transport was unreliable, so he had made the journey entirely on foot, weaving past fissures in the ground which seemed to be emerging and closing regularly and collapsed irrigation towers and silos. Radioactive ash still drifted on the horizon from the destroyed reactor complex. The campus had been already evacuated. A handful of civil defence personnel and one of the campus administrators remained behind under the supervision of a single Starfleet Ensign. When he neared them, they were arguing about whether to run in once again to extract the research core and some conduct some specimen preservation. They all quieted when Zohl approached. He calmly requested access to Professor Alexander Keating’s private research core from the administrator present. It was not connected to the colony network. That, in itself, was telling. It was granted outright, whether the administrator knew anything of the Professor's work or not, he could not say. But when the administrator was about to plead their case about going in and getting the main research core and specimens, Zohl was quicker to the mark, ordering the Ensign to evac these civilians immediately, at phaserpoint if he had to. They looked surprised, but didn't resist as the Ensign's hand went to his belt, but he did not draw. 'Good', thought Zohl and he proceeded inside the building. Inside the labs were dim but intact. Consoles flickered as he walked past, and turned off again as per emergency power protocols. In the main lab, Keating’s work could be seen across the central display in layered streams of data; soil analytics, crop performance metrics, environmental modelling. Nothing outwardly alarming. The colony had been established to test 'aggressive agricultural strains', as the governor's documents had put it; capable of supplementing replicated food in conflict zones. High yield, fast growth, environmental resilience. Practical, even admirable in intent. But those same documents had Starfleet Command’s imprint all over them, which was unusual. Zohl located the Professor's office and accessed his computer with a command override. [IMG]https://i.imgur.com/hXawtKa.jpeg[/IMG] The files revealed much.... private correspondence on Keating's computer showed that the Federation Colonisation Office had been 'encouraged' to expedite Hespera IX’s development as a colony. Energy credit allocations had moved quickly. Industrial replication and associated logistics had been prioritised. The aggressive crop templates being tested here had originated not from the colony's research campus itself, but from Starfleet research divisions specialising in emergency preparedness and strategic supply. All marked top secret. Zohl sighed, and rubbed his temple. His antennae were cramped in the EVA suit. Aboard the Tykera, his own, had been custom fabricated to give more room. Reading further, it seemed Keating’s own annotations across various files suggested **he** had _longstanding ties_ with those divisions. Old colleagues. Advocates. Friends. Zohl even recognised a few names as retired Starfleet personnel. Keating wrote of meetings held off the formal record, of proposals “championed at the highest levels”. He had not merely been selected for this world; he had been placed upon it. Zohl looked deeper. The sound of the evacuation sirens momentarily entered his mind. They had been sounding for hours and hours now, but they were quite muted within his EVA suit. He couldn't stay long, but wanted to get a better sense first-hand of the files. The primary strains in cultivation were, as Keating described, comparatively rudimentary; gene edits to accelerate maturation, increase caloric density, harden root systems against soil volatility. Useful, but not revolutionary. Most of the colony's efforts were focussed on these, and the fields which surrounded the colony, which stretched as far as the eye could see, held these crop strains. Then he found the secondary index. > [Strain 'Theta Green'] Unlike the others, it was flagged for "off-grid cultivation" in peripheral greenhouse complexes _far beyond_ the main settlement. The same region where Keating’s last transmission had originated. Crews from the Forde and Dhae'Rhian were tracking that down now. Zohl was no xeno botanist, but even he could follow the notations in the file. The genetic architecture was _different_. Embedded within the plant structure were proteins designed to 'conduct and modulate' bioelectric charge. Root 'matrices' engineered to 'interlink more densely than natural analogues'. Notes referenced 'subspace responsiveness'. That was a phrase that did not appear anywhere in the colony’s public documentation; and Zohl made sure to check the research campus' general files for it too. Nothing. Keating’s later logs grew less clear... whether it was the ramblings of a mad-man or of an ultra-specialist, Zohl could not tell.. he wondered if there was a difference. He could only gleam that Keating had identified the planet as having pre-exiting seismic pulses, a phenomena so discreet at least initially, that it was near-undetectable by standard colonial seismic monitoring. Further, and this was truly the extent of Zohl's ability to decipher the notes, Keating had begun correlating the presumed-natural pulses with growth patterns in the plantations of 'Theta Green' strain crops. Keating had written. “They are synchronising.” Zohl stepped back from the console. He needed to get this data to the Weytahn immediately, but confidentially. He couldn't risk data fragmentation given the increased radiation in the atmosphere, nor could he hand-off the data to anyone else for now. Another job he'd have to personally do. He _was_ a Captain, wasn't he? He smiled. Zohl initiated an export of the files. Another tremor beneath his boots felt less like random instability now, and more like a message... there was more going on here than they were told. Whatever was happening on Hespera IX, it seemed to run deep.

Among The Stars: Hesperia IX Incident - ship logs

darthhorvath

Event Log

Six hours after the initial arrival of the flotilla…

Captain T’Mir N’Nari had been in command of two Nez’rel vessels in the course of his long career. The previous vessel of Excelsior-class to bear that name had been destroyed in the last weeks of Dominion War when Breen made their hit-and-run at San Francisco. What was little known that three more targets were attacked as a matter of diversion and Macadarna was one of them. Macadarna was, however, luckier as than the Federation de facto capital, as Macadarnan Caitians had always been battle ready due to Ferasa Prime in the close neighbourhood. And the strike force aimed at Macadarna was significantly smaller. Previous Nez’rel chased away the Breen attack group, but the cost of its own existence. Luckily, T’Mir had ship evacuated in time for the entire crew to flee, himself included.

It took 45 years before another Nez’rel was built. now as an Aspero-class carrier. A flying fortress, packed up with Stalker fighters, 3000 Caitians who served under him, of which 800 belonged to Caitian Marine Corps - ground troops who were on par with Starfleet’s own Hazard Teams. Even at age of 122 Earth years, T’Mir’s mind was spilling out his vitality. Only his chestnut brown mane seemed to gray out.

And yet, the last six standard hours had drained him more than planetary evacuation exercises that were conducted once a standard year on Macadarna, of which Nez’rel was always a part of. It had become a tradition among Macadarnans, just in case Ferasans ever changed their mind. Nothing was going well for him in this attempt of evacuation of Hespera IX - a Federation colony in the fringes of Alpha Quadrant, beyond the closest Tzen’kethi listening posts.

Flotilla had consisted of several vessels, but Nez’rel was seemingly the only one to fail in providing direct evacuation support. T’Mir could not blame his crew though. As a carrier, his ship housed an advanced flight control center with a computer system separate from the ship’s mainframe which coordinated 150 fighters once they were deployed outside their hangar bays.

But colonial traffic, or rather the lack of it, was too much even for Nez’rel. Two passenger ships had collided in the upper atmosphere just as the relief flotilla arrived, even though Nez’rel flight control center successfully tapped into colonial traffic control system. Were it not for Adamant, Borg Cooperative vessel, and Romulan R.R.W. Dhae’Rhian, their would even bigger loss of life. Unfortunately, a piece of debris created in that collision fell right on the fusion power plant located outside the main settlement, causing complete power loss across the colony and subsequent radiation spread in its vicinity. Something that Chief Petty Officer Ki’lana was now worrying about down there.

“And it hasn’t stopped there, Chairman Shissar.”, T’Mir told Kor’rin, currently acting leader of Macadarna, until new elections came about. “On top of all these mishaps, Captain Shallas and her crew aboard U.S.S. Weytahn think they have discovered the cause of this tectonic ruptures. Apparently, there is something deep in the planet, generating a powerful bio-electric signal which causes the planet to fall apart and serves as a massive transporter inhibitor.”

“Bio-electric signal?”, Kor’rin said from the view screen in T’Mir’s ready room. “An intelligence of some kind.”

“Shallas is uncertain, but that is how I interpreted her initial report. With the loss of the fusion plant, I had the entire Marines’ contingent deployed to the planet. Search and rescue, and minimizing the radiation damage. This ship now serves as a communication center, a power battery, a barracks and a possible triage center. Adamant is the only other ship whose size is somewhat on par with a geometric scale of this disaster.”, T’Mir said. “That is not to say that others are not up to the task. The Romulans and our colleagues from C.D.S. Forde are doing their best to locate Professor Keating, colonial chief science officer.”

“You said that in his last transmission he stated there was nothing to worry about, correct?”, Kor’rin asked after a few moments of silence.

“Yes. Why?”, T’Mir acknowledged with a concern in his voice.

“I wonder… if there is something alive causing all this… perhaps this Keating was sure he had established a way to communicate with whatever is down there.”, Kor’rin concluded.

“Well, if he did, it seems he angered that thing.”, T’Mir said. “But I will know more soon. Is Macadarna ready for potential refugee influx?”

Kor’rin nodded. “We are preparing provisions’ distribution but the shelter sites are up and running.”

T’Mir allowed himself a discreet smile. “Alright. I must head out now. Captain Shallas wishes to brief me and Captain Zohl on her crew’s findings. I will have Ensign Ssari send fresh reports to You, Chairman.”, he said and paused. “Oh, and one more thing, Kor’rin. Your son is down there, coordinating our Marines. It seems his MACO training paid off. You should be proud.”

“I am, T’Mir. Just bring him and everyone else back, safe and sound.”, Kor’rin said and sighed. “Go now. Kor’rin out.”

nynik

Hespera IX – Surface, Primary Settlement Perimeter

The shockwave reached them seconds after the light.

Zohl felt it in his chest before he heard it, a concussive pressure that flattened dust and grass in a widening ring across the colony outskirts. Even at this distance from the fusion complex, the blast wave struck hard enough to rattle the governor’s complex and displace lighter structures from their foundations.

The horizon seem to burn as a rising column of fire, smoke and debris pushed its way up into the sky, carrying with it a cloud of radioactive particles which would be lethal to those closer to the epicentre.

The reactor had been positioned well beyond the main habitation blocks, a precaution that now saved thousands of lives in the immediate explosion. Still, the outer agricultural silos and processing centres were all gone, reduced to twisted metal.

“Radiation spike” came a voice beside him. He looked to his own tricorder. The numbers were climbing, then plateauing at survivable levels. Not safe. ‘Survivable’. Everyone still alive would need anti-radiation treatment, but there would be some…

His train of thought was interrupted by a shrieking of static from a nearby console. Comms had gone down, but had somehow come back up. Perhaps the deployment of some mobile buoys… either way they were a web of chaos. The channels crackled with injured voices, response teams, medics requesting the evacuation of the injured. It reminded him of darker times in his past, times when hard decisions had to be made.

He lowered the tricorder slowly and turned toward the governor. Only moments earlier she had stood on the holo-projector in her office invoking emergency authority and placing the colony under martial law at Starfleet’s request. It had been the only way to break the paralysis, to override the hesitation of those still listening for Professor Keating’s voice, still refusing evacuation in the belief he would somehow stabilise the planet…

Zohl had reviewed the last transmission of him telling everyone to be calm and that there was nothing to worry about. Frankly, he thought the man had lost it. They sounded more like the ramblings of a lunatic. Anyone could see this planet was coming apart at the seams. And if he wasn’t cracked, then what he was broadcasting was down right dangerous! But that was many hours ago now, and all contact had been lost. There were teams looking for him though, because if he wasn’t dead, he just might be able to shine a light on what was going on here.

Zohl wiped his face. Ash was beginning to fall and it drifted between those in the governor’s office like dark snow. He looked up to see the entire ceiling and roof of the complex was gone. He sighed as a medic injected him with an anti-radiation compound. It would be the first of many. Hespera IX was going to be just ‘one of those missions’, wasn’t it.

nynik

Hespera IX – Surface, Primary Settlement Perimeter

The following takes place directly after an interlude session recorded here: https://next.storp.org/public/d/110-among-the-stars-all-transcripts/11

The holo link failed in a haze of static and intermittent light, and with it the briefing room of the USS Weytahn vanished.

Zohl remained still for a moment. He was standing on the holo-projector in the governor’s office just as a renewed tremor could be heard and then felt rolling through the foundations once more. Around him, emergency teams worked to re-route power feeds and reinforce what little of the communications grid remained intact. Something which was proving increasingly hard given the radiation spread. The air smelled of ozone. Zohl would need to follow Chief Ki’Lana’s advice soon and get himself into an EVA suit. There would be some nearby, he hoped, because he’d need one.

He had said he’d ensure the Professor’s records at the settlement’s research campus would be checked and transmitted, but he knew this would be a task for him. Who else could he call upon; most of those present were not his crew, and he would not put civilian lives in jeopardy to go acquire these files on his behalf.

He explained the situation to those around, the governor included. They’d be evacuated shortly anyway. He donned an EVA suit and set out into the ash filled settlement’s streets.

The research campus lay on the eastern side of the settlement, farthest from where the debris had fallen. They were a collection of low, reinforced structures set amid the very fields that had made Hespera IX valuable as a research agrarian world. Transport was unreliable, so he had made the journey entirely on foot, weaving past fissures in the ground which seemed to be emerging and closing regularly and collapsed irrigation towers and silos. Radioactive ash still drifted on the horizon from the destroyed reactor complex.

The campus had been already evacuated. A handful of civil defence personnel and one of the campus administrators remained behind under the supervision of a single Starfleet Ensign. When he neared them, they were arguing about whether to run in once again to extract the research core and some conduct some specimen preservation. They all quieted when Zohl approached.

He calmly requested access to Professor Alexander Keating’s private research core from the administrator present. It was not connected to the colony network. That, in itself, was telling. It was granted outright, whether the administrator knew anything of the Professor’s work or not, he could not say. But when the administrator was about to plead their case about going in and getting the main research core and specimens, Zohl was quicker to the mark, ordering the Ensign to evac these civilians immediately, at phaserpoint if he had to. They looked surprised, but didn’t resist as the Ensign’s hand went to his belt, but he did not draw. ‘Good’, thought Zohl and he proceeded inside the building.

Inside the labs were dim but intact. Consoles flickered as he walked past, and turned off again as per emergency power protocols. In the main lab, Keating’s work could be seen across the central display in layered streams of data; soil analytics, crop performance metrics, environmental modelling. Nothing outwardly alarming. The colony had been established to test ‘aggressive agricultural strains’, as the governor’s documents had put it; capable of supplementing replicated food in conflict zones. High yield, fast growth, environmental resilience. Practical, even admirable in intent. But those same documents had Starfleet Command’s imprint all over them, which was unusual.

Zohl located the Professor’s office and accessed his computer with a command override.

The files revealed much…. private correspondence on Keating’s computer showed that the Federation Colonisation Office had been ‘encouraged’ to expedite Hespera IX’s development as a colony. Energy credit allocations had moved quickly. Industrial replication and associated logistics had been prioritised. The aggressive crop templates being tested here had originated not from the colony’s research campus itself, but from Starfleet research divisions specialising in emergency preparedness and strategic supply. All marked top secret.

Zohl sighed, and rubbed his temple. His antennae were cramped in the EVA suit. Aboard the Tykera, his own, had been custom fabricated to give more room.

Reading further, it seemed Keating’s own annotations across various files suggested he had longstanding ties with those divisions. Old colleagues. Advocates. Friends. Zohl even recognised a few names as retired Starfleet personnel.

Keating wrote of meetings held off the formal record, of proposals “championed at the highest levels”. He had not merely been selected for this world; he had been placed upon it. Zohl looked deeper. The sound of the evacuation sirens momentarily entered his mind. They had been sounding for hours and hours now, but they were quite muted within his EVA suit. He couldn’t stay long, but wanted to get a better sense first-hand of the files.

The primary strains in cultivation were, as Keating described, comparatively rudimentary; gene edits to accelerate maturation, increase caloric density, harden root systems against soil volatility. Useful, but not revolutionary. Most of the colony’s efforts were focussed on these, and the fields which surrounded the colony, which stretched as far as the eye could see, held these crop strains.

Then he found the secondary index.

[Strain ‘Theta Green’]

Unlike the others, it was flagged for “off-grid cultivation” in peripheral greenhouse complexes far beyond the main settlement. The same region where Keating’s last transmission had originated. Crews from the Forde and Dhae’Rhian were tracking that down now.

Zohl was no xeno botanist, but even he could follow the notations in the file. The genetic architecture was different. Embedded within the plant structure were proteins designed to ‘conduct and modulate’ bioelectric charge. Root ‘matrices’ engineered to ‘interlink more densely than natural analogues’. Notes referenced ‘subspace responsiveness’. That was a phrase that did not appear anywhere in the colony’s public documentation; and Zohl made sure to check the research campus’ general files for it too. Nothing.

Keating’s later logs grew less clear… whether it was the ramblings of a mad-man or of an ultra-specialist, Zohl could not tell.. he wondered if there was a difference. He could only gleam that Keating had identified the planet as having pre-exiting seismic pulses, a phenomena so discreet at least initially, that it was near-undetectable by standard colonial seismic monitoring.

Further, and this was truly the extent of Zohl’s ability to decipher the notes, Keating had begun correlating the presumed-natural pulses with growth patterns in the plantations of ‘Theta Green’ strain crops. Keating had written. “They are synchronising.”

Zohl stepped back from the console.

He needed to get this data to the Weytahn immediately, but confidentially. He couldn’t risk data fragmentation given the increased radiation in the atmosphere, nor could he hand-off the data to anyone else for now. Another job he’d have to personally do. He was a Captain, wasn’t he? He smiled.

Zohl initiated an export of the files. Another tremor beneath his boots felt less like random instability now, and more like a message… there was more going on here than they were told.

Whatever was happening on Hespera IX, it seemed to run deep.

darthhorvath

nynik

Three hours after radiation cloud hits the main settlement on Hespera IX

K’Sari City, Macadarna

Acting Chaircat Kor’rin Shissar of R’Relar clan was, once again, pacing back and forth in the Office of The Chaircat of Ministerial Council, the executive body of Macadarna planetary system, within Caitian Union. His chestnut, dark brown mane (or hair?!) was let loose, and was periodically swinging left and right behind his back as he paced through the Office. It was an extraordinary electoral period, as the previous Chaircat (Chairwoman) K’Uura passed away of old age, half through her second mandate.

She was the second Chaircat Kor’rin served under. Her predecessor, Ke’ral Senior, grandson of Lord Governor R’Rel, stepped down following the disgrace that his own son, Ke’ral Junior, brought to the founding clan of modern Macadarna. The Junior had allied with those Ferasan clans who had, for years, saw Macadarna as their hunting ground, teeming with Caitian prey. When the Klingon Shattering occurred, Ferasan Dominion aligned with the Mad Emperor J’mpok. Ferasans saw this as a green light to do as they please and assaulted Macadarna directly. While these clans were defeated, and Mad Emperor was dethroned, nothing could bring back two thousand innocent civilians lives that were lost.

Many on Macadarna dug out the age-old question - can Ferasans ever be trusted? The debate began nearly 50 standard years earlier, when Lord Governor R’Rel permitted a single vessel, the Dragon, and her mostly Ferasan crew to settle on Macadarna. R’Rel even encouraged them to found a new clan, Se’mohkan (Ferasan word for flying lizards), thus merging together all the Ferasan exiles that would occasionally run away from the Dominion and seek protection among their non-augmented, Caitian siblings. Kor’rin’s own grandfather, Ki’raal, and maternal uncle, Kee’ren, had been instrumental welcoming the Dragon's crew. While they would prove themselves as dedicated and loyal citizens of Macadarna, if not Caitian Union itself, especially during the Dominion War, the Dragon crew sometimes operated in a more shadowy parts of the law.

Kor’rin reiterated all this historical facts for himself as he paced through the Office. He was now facing a bordering issue. CDS Nez’rel, an Aspero-class carrier, pride of Macadarna itself (as its Excelsior-class predecessor had been instrumental in the planet’s history), was returning from inter-Alliance military exercises when they diverted to Hespera IX colony in response to a planet-wide crisis. The planet was tearing itself apart tectonically and evacuation was needed. Nez’rel seemed as a proper ship for the job. With its vast hangar bays for Stalker fighters and many triage areas for Caitian Marine Corps, the ship was well suited for the job. Captain T’Mir had responded to the distress call and informed Kor’rin that Marine contigent, supervised by Kor’rin’s son, Lieutenant JG Ki’ras Shissar, was deployed to herd the evacuees.

But today, three hours earlier, Macadarna long-range comm network lost all contact with Hespera relief flotilla, which consisted of Caitian ships Nez’rel and Forde, Romulan warbirds Anarhai and Dhae’Rhian, Borg Cooperative vessel Adamant and Starfleet’s own Tykera, among others. Macadarna’s closest neigbhours, Deltans and Saurians, confirmed the same loss of signal. Apart from one short-burst message: Alpha Feline emergency signal. It was used for emergencies among Caitian Defense Force, and when transmitted, it usually meant that the sender “lost all its fur suddenly”, as Caitian military chiefs often described it.

Without any hesitation, Kor’rin had the transmission forwarded, along with Hespera mission summary, to Cait itself and the Starfleet Command outpost on Tellar Prime. But Cait was too far away to assist and Starfleet itself issued a depressing response: “All local forces are currently employed to contain the Chimeran crisis.”

Native Deltan, Saurian and Tellarite forces were preparing for response but it would take time. And time was something Hespera and its relief flotilla did not apparently have. Leaving him with no further options, Kor’rin pondered to reach out to one force capable of quick response - Ferasan Dominion.

As planned, a middle-aged Ferasan entered his office. Nall Se’mohkan, once a chief tactical officer aboard the Dragon, now a Captain, wore the ship’s official uniform, gray and black jumpsuit. The Dragon and her crew never became official part of Caitian Defense Force or Starfleet. They were simply classified as a “well-armed civilian patrol vessel contracted by Macadarnan government”. And this ambiguous definition often tipped the balance in Macadarna’s favour in - morally ambiguous situations.

Kor’rin nodded to Nall and gestured him to seat at the workdesk.

“That Tellarite who drafted the first contract with my grandmother, M’Tala…”, Kor’rin began as they both sat down.

“Pragann.”, Nall muttered.

“Yes, Pragann, Sages bless his beard. He was a slippery devil.”

Nall grinned, displaying his imposing fangs. “F’arru said that a thousand times.”

“Then, Captain, I will be Pragann-ishly blunt with you. We lost contact with Nez’rel in Hespera system.”, Kor’rin stated firmly, his ears twitching.

“Are you concerned with the ship and its crew, or just Your son, Mister Chaircat?”

Kor’rin growled. “I am responsible for the well being of the enti…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, Nall interrupted me. “Spare my fur of your well-rehearsed rant. What do you need me to do?”

Kor’rin sighed. “The Dragon is just one ship. I need a prompt action of more than one ship. Do you think you could find willing vessels, and their crew, to investigate what happened within next one standard day?”

Nall shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the first time we are asked to do the impossible. This is just a bit impossiblier. There are capable, action-minded privateers but it will raise a price considerably. Not from the Dragon, but the privateers themselves.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Captain.”

“Chairman Kor’rin, I operate in the gray zone often but this will have strong political implications, not just for the Ministerial Council, but for my clan as well. F’arru may be old, blind and demented, but he is still the living head of my clan and I will inform him of this.”

“See that you do, Captain. I expect nothing less.”, Kor’rin replied firmly.

Nall nodded and rose from the chair. “Fine by me. I’ll see myself out, Chairman.”, he said and bowed, leaving Kor’rin to his thoughts.

nynik

darthhorvath

Hespera IX – Surface, Governor’s Complex

12 minutes after the radiation cloud hit

The bitter, metallic taste in Kyhid’s mouth was a unwelcome reminder. One he knew too well. Radiation from the power plant’s destruction had spiked over recent hours, and he had been overcome by it despite the many hypos he’d been injected with. Having come too, he gound his body’s muscles had again all locked in place.

It was because of radiation poisoning he had suffered as a child; his nervous system was weak to this kind of environmental condition. He hadn’t been the only one to collapse, but he was the only one who still lay frozen on the floor. His own body failing him just when his crew, his fellow Captains and the allied fleet needed him most.

The room around him was a blur of noise and fear. He heard Chief Ki’lana coughing nearby and the desperate, heated arguments about using Borg technology just to stay alive. Governor Hillstra had started to come around, and was already hand-cuffed for what was suspected to be a charge of gross negligence at best, and downright conspiracy and reckless endangerment at worst… but a conspiracy of what type wondered Zohl, and to what end?

Lying there, unable to move a finger, he felt a familiar wave of despair. This helplessness reminded him of the mission where his first officer had be killed. A failure that still haunted him. In the silence of his paralysis, his guilt felt heavier than ever. It had been a long time since he had lain so still and thought of such things. It had helped to keep darting from one crisis to the next instead of think about that.

Slowly, the frozen feeling in his limbs began to fade. He forced himself to breathe steadily, leaning on the strict military discipline of his Andorian heritage. He couldn’t give up; his uniform was the only thing holding him together. To his crew, he had to remain the calm, steady Captain they expected. With a massive effort of will, Zohl forced his muscles to move, pushing through the pain to stand up and rejoin the crisis.

Starbase 39-Sierra, Sierra Sector

Close to the Romulan Star Empire Neutral Zone

The view beyond the primary viewport of Starbase 39-Sierra was dominated by the shifting, emerald nebula of the Romulan front. Admiral T’Nae did not look at it. Her focus remained fixed on the scrolling data of a high-priority, encrypted PADD. The screen flickered with a sub-space transmission from Starfleet Command. On the monitor, a Rear Admiral’s face was tight with a practiced, bureaucratic neutrality.

“The situation on Hespera IX remains classified under the Internal Oversight Directive, Admiral,” the officer stated, his voice thin over the long-range link. “We appreciate your concern for the fleet units in the sector, but the research conducted by Professor Keating is a matter of Federation security. We advise you to maintain your current posture and wait for further instructions before engaging in any contact. That includes consideration for sending any further relief.”

T’Nae’s expression remained as static as the stone of Vulcan. “Your recommendation for ‘posture’ is noted, Admiral. However, the allied vessels are currently experiencing a total communications blackout following a massive bio-electrical discharge from the planet’s surface. They are not ‘waiting for instructions.’ They may be dying.”

“We are assessing the data,” the voice countered quickly. “There is no evidence to suggest the botanical research is the cause of the—”

“I am not interested in your assessments of the cause,” T’Nae interrupted, her voice dropping into a lower, more dangerous register of calm. “I am interested in why Keating’s aggressive crop strains contain nucleotide sequences that bear the exact subspace-resonant signature of the Hobus Supernova. I am interested in why Starfleet Command is authorising agricultural research that utilises radiation-mutated matter from a dead star system; a signature I have seen before in classified Section 31 dossiers regarding Romulan bio-weapons.”

The officer on the screen went silent for a fraction of a second too long. “That is a reach, T’Nae. Even for you.”

“Is it? Sierra-39’s sensors have been tracking the fallout of Hobus for years. This is not a reach; it is a match. Logic would indicate that research on Hespera was not designed to feed a colony. Nor was it designed to feed others. It was designed to weaponize the very force that broke an Empire. I expect a full accounting of who authorized the Keating Project within the hour or I will raise this directly with the Federation Council. T’Nae out.”

She cut the link before the officer could respond. The silence of her office was immediate. She turned her chair as her adjutant, a young Lieutenant, stepped forward from the shadows of the doorway.

“Admiral,” the Lieutenant whispered, “Command is still intending to send a ‘technical delay’ notice to the fleet. They don’t want the captains knowing the nature of the radiation or the Keating connection.”

T’Nae stood, her back straight, unseen weight resting upon her shoulders. She looked at the Lieutenant with the cold, piercing clarity that had made her a legend on the Romulan front.

“Deception is a poor substitute for strategy, Lieutenant. Those captains do not require the comfort of a lie; they require the utility of the truth. Send every unredacted file we have on the Keating-Hobus link to the Tykera’s last known buoy coordinates. Give them the truth. I know many of the captains in that allied fleet personally, and they can handle it.”

She walked toward the viewport, her eyes finally settling on the distant, dark patch of space where the Hobus had once been. More than forty years had passed, and still the ripples of that single event crept across the galaxy.

“Meanwhile,” T’Nae added, her voice hardening, “ready my shuttle and a science escort. If there are some within Starfleet Command who seem intent on digging up the ghosts of the past, then I think it’s time we take a trip and do a bit of digging of our own.”