Star Trek Prometheus - in the Heart of Chaos

by Christian Humberg

  Besides, she remembered when the Jem’Hadar made their retaliatory strike on Cardassia Prime at the end of the Dominion War, killing billions of Cardassians. Krish would have thought that would have satisfied her need for vengeance against her people’s oppressors, but instead she found herself mourning the innocent lives lost because the Cardassians had rebelled against the Dominion just as Bajorans had rebelled against Cardassia.

  She put her reminiscences aside as Bharatrum VI-Delta, the largest moon of this particular gas giant, appeared in front of them. The Renao called the planet Shoraoun, and the moon Calidhu, but Krish preferred to stick to the nomenclature of the early Starfleet expeditions that had initially charted this system. Strictly speaking, the moon was called LC-14-VI-Delta in the fleet’s databases, but Krish found that a bit too technical.

  VI-Delta was a gray and yellow rock with a diameter of approximately three and a half thousand kilometers. It orbited the gas giant once every ten days. There was no water down there, but the enormous tidal forces of Shoraoun caused amazingly active volcanoes, leading to numerous calderas, some of which were incredibly large.

  Vogel read off the results of the scan: “The temperature is around minus one hundred and forty degrees Celsius. The atmosphere consists predominantly of sulfur dioxide, and it’s extremely thin. It’s not a place where you’d like to spend your shore leave.”

  “How many places in space exist where you would actually like to spend your shore leave?” Krish asked.

  “As far as I’m concerned: two,” Vogel replied, grinning over his shoulder. “Casperia Prime and Risa.”

  “Not Risa anymore,” Sh’rar muttered. The Caitian was the fifth person on the bridge, and he operated the engineering station. He shot Bhansali a look then turned back to his station. Like the tactical officer’s homeworld, Risa had been devastated during the Borg invasion.

  “The Federation is rebuilding Risa,” Vogel said. “It’ll be even more sensual than ever before.”

  “Risa’s best times are over,” Bhansali said. “Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet—that’s where you spend your leave these days. Again, I should say. The world was pretty rundown for a while.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” Krish interjected. “I believe I have heard enough ideas for my next free fortnight. Could we turn our attention back to the matter at hand?”

  “Aye, Lieutenant.” Vogel turned back to his console, as did Bhansali and Sh’rar.

  Naxxa reported: “We’ve reached orbit.”

  “Initiating surface scan,” Vogel announced.

  It was quiet for a minute on the bridge while everyone focused on their instruments, and Krish stared at the image of the moon with its yellow, jagged landscape. No one expected to find anything there, but they needed to remain vigilant, Krish knew. If it turned out later that she had overlooked anything, that would lead to a nasty reprimand in her Starfleet file. Not to mention the possibility of more people dying that she could have prevented from being killed.

  “I’ll bet ten pieces of gold-pressed latinum that we won’t find a base anywhere around here,” Bhansali announced suddenly.

  “Where did you get gold-pressed latinum?” Vogel asked.

  “I played dabo on DS9,” the security chief said. “That was a good deal for me.”

  “Would you please concentrate on your work!” Irritated, Krish rubbed her ridged nose with her thumb and index finger. “I’m aware of the fact that we’re not pursuing the most exciting of tasks in the world—”

  “Lieutenant!” Vogel interrupted her, excited. “I’m picking up something on the moon’s surface.”

  Krish sat up straight. “On screen.”

  The moon’s surface shifted and zoomed in. A tactical triangular marker was placed over a massif in the center of the bridge screen.

  “Here, Lieutenant. I’m definitely picking up artificial structures inside this mountain range. There are subterranean vaults.”

  “Any signs of life?”

  “Difficult to say. Ores inside the rock are interfering with sensors. I’m reading geometrically shaped caverns with smooth surfaces, which can’t be of natural origin, but I can’t make out what’s inside of them.”

  “Check the records for mining facilities on VI-Delta.”

  “Right away.” Several seconds after the stocky man had typed the query into the computer, he said, “No settlements or plants are registered here.”

  Krish turned to the security chief. “Bhansali, tactical analysis.”

  The bearded Denevan peered at his console. “No energy readings of any kind, as far as I can tell. But as Vogel said, readings from inside the mountain are not conclusive.”

  “In that case, we’re going down there with an away team,” Krish said. “Vogel, find a good access point. Bhansali, take two security personnel and an engineer, and prepare for an away mission. Environmental suits and personal shields. We don’t want to take any risks.”

  “Aye, Lieutenant. I’ll take Meuer, Swallow, and Ensign Loanaa with me.” The security chief got up and strode out of the bridge. After a minute, the turbolift returned and deposited Ensign Elisa Flores onto the bridge to relieve Bhansali at tactical.

  Not long after, Krish received Bhansali’s confirmation from the transporter room that they were ready.

  “Excellent,” the Bajoran woman responded. “Ensign Vogel will give you the coordinates to beam down to. Look after yourself, Lieutenant.”

  “Always,” came the laconic reply.

  “Bhansali’s team is transporting now,” said Vogel. “Transport successful—sensors are detecting the combadges in their suits. The lieutenant is hailing us.”

  “Put him through.”

  “Bhansali to Prometheus.” The Denevan’s voice sounded tinny, and he breathed heavily inside his EV suit helmet.

  “We can hear you, Lieutenant.”

  “We’re directly outside the massif. Above us, we can see several holes in the mountainside. They look like entrances to hangars, but if any ships are parked there, they can’t be any bigger than shuttles.”

  “Are there any ships that you can see?”

  “Negative, Prometheus. Everything here seems dead and abandoned. No energy readings, no lights, no atmosphere shield protecting the hangar entrances. Ensign Loanaa found a way in that is on a slightly lower level and easily accessible. We’re going in now.”

  “Understood. Keep this channel open.”

  For about a minute, all they heard was panting and some quiet curses.

  “The floor here is very uneven,” Bhansali said. “And there is this yellow dust everywhere. Looks pretty poisonous to me.”

  “Presumably sulfur deposits,” Vogel said. “They don’t pose a danger to the EV suits.”

  “We’ve reached the side entrance now. There’s a locked door. Loanaa thinks she can get it open.”

  The humming of a piece of equipment—probably a P-38, which engineers like Loanaa referred to as a “can opener”—was audible, followed by a clicking noise.

  Bhansali said, “The door’s open. We’re going in. Meuer, you take point. Swallow, you bring up the rear. Dammit, it’s dark in here. It’s like the inside of a grave. Activate your spotlights. Loanaa, you keep an eye on the tricorder. If this is a trap, I want to know about it before it springs.”

  Krish felt her heart rate increase. She wished that she was leading the away team. Being tied to the command chair while others advanced boldly into the unknown sat poorly with her. However, Starfleet regulations were clear: captains had to remain aboard ship if their presence wasn’t urgently required on site. At the end of the day, a captain’s responsibility toward their ship and crew was much more important than the individual’s desire for adventure. Things used to be much better in the old days, Krish thought wistfully, remembering her history lessons at the Academy about Jonathan Archer, Garth of Izar, Christopher Pike, and James Kirk.

  “It really is a base,” Bhansali said. “The corridors and rooms have been carved into the r
ock. And there are Renao symbols on the walls.”

  “Any indications that someone is home?” asked Krish.

  “Negative, Lieutenant. There’s no readable energy or atmosphere in here, except for the thin moon air. I’d be surprised if we found anyone here. It looks as if the base has been abandoned.”

  Someone said something that Krish didn’t understand.

  “True,” replied Bhansali. “Loanaa just noticed that the inhabitants can’t be long gone. We found dirty dishes in the crew mess hall. There are open supply crates here, as well. It seems as if these guys made a hasty exit. Besides… Hey, now look what we’ve got here.”

  Alarmed, Krish sat up straight. “What did you find, Bhansali?”

  “A few posters have been put up here. I can’t read what they say, but the symbol is unmistakable: the Purifying Flame! I’d say we hit the bullseye.”

  Krish wasn’t so sure. “If the base was abandoned, it’s doubtful whether we’ll find anything to help us make any significant progress. The fanatics will have covered their tracks.”

  “If they had the time to do so,” Bhansali said. “There are all sorts of belongings here in the living area, where we are now—clothes, food, tools. They must have left in a hurry. We’ll advance further. There must be a command center somewhere around here.”

  “Be careful. These fanatics might have left behind surprises for any intruders.”

  “Aye, Lieutenant. We’ll keep our eyes peeled. But the EV suits and the illumination in these corridors don’t make things easy for us. And the tricorder doesn’t seem to get on very well with the ore inside the walls. Our detection radius is almost zero.”

  Krish turned to ops. “Ensign Vogel, try to boost our sensor performance. Focus on the massif. If you register any strange increases in energy, we will beam our people out immediately.”

  “I’ll do my best, Lieutenant,” the German replied. “But that won’t be easy. I’m not even sure if our transporters are able to lock on the away team through the rock.”

  Krish hit the sensor button on her armrest, activating the intercom with her fist. “Bridge to transporter room.”

  “Transporter room here.” The Saurian crewperson S’arkee spoke with a slight lisp.

  “Are you still locked on the away team?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant. The lock is somewhat unstable but I can compensate for that. That said, if the team moves any deeper into the mountain, maintaining the lock will become difficult.”

  “Understood. Thank you.” She slightly raised her voice: “Did you hear that, Bhansali?”

  “We did,” the Denevan answered on the open channel. “We can’t advance much deeper anyway, since we seem to be moving upwards now. We’re just reaching some kind of an armory.” He whistled. “I’ll be damned… These pieces of…”

  “Enlighten us, Lieutenant,” Krish ordered.

  “The chamber has been pretty much emptied. But there are a few old cargo crates, which appear to have been holding guns and explosive charges. Romulan military, Cardassian forces… These guys have purchased ordnance from all over the quadrant. And they call us sphere defilers. Two-faced bastards.”

  Someone shouted something that sounded remotely like “command center” to Krish.

  “On my way,” said Bhansali. “Apparently we’ve discovered the command center, Prometheus. Yes, there are scattered computers here. Ha, dabo! I’d say. Hey, what’s that?”

  “Report, Bhansali!” Krish asked when he didn’t continue. “The tricorder is picking up a sign of life on this level. It suddenly appeared. Down there. Hey, who are you? Freeze, and don’t move! On behalf of Starfleet, I’m asking you to… Oh no!

  Beam us up, Prometheus. Right now…”

  They heard a sudden heavy thud, before the connection was terminated.

  On the moon, they saw a minor conflagration on the outer mountain wall. And then, half of the mountain blew up.

  * * *

  “According to our analysis, large quantities of explosives had been stored in this specially protected room that our sensors couldn’t detect due to the ore inside the stone,” Lenissa zh’Thiin said, pointing at the holoimages of the almost completely destroyed mountain range that her staff had taken. “Apparently, the assassin stayed behind waiting for us, then blew himself up, which delivered the initial spark for the larger explosive charge. The blast of the explosion amounted in strength to approximately four standard photon torpedoes. The base has been completely destroyed; our away team didn’t survive.”

  Adams listened to the report with a stony face. But behind the mask of professionalism, he was seething. It had finally happened. The Prometheus mourned her first victims of this mission.

  Captains always had to be prepared for the deaths of people under their command, and Adams had lost numerous people during the past few years—especially during the Dominion War and the Borg invasion. Even in times of relative peace, a battle ship like the Prometheus would frequently suffer casualties, because Adams and his crew were usually deployed to dangerous locations. Although the captain had accepted death as a permanent companion in his life, that didn’t make it any easier to bear the loss of crew members.

  It never got any easier.

  “Did we find clues in the ruins of where the fanatics fled to when they abandoned the base?” Roaas asked. He was in Adams’s ready room with Adams and zh’Thiin.

  The Andorian woman’s antennae lowered. “None whatsoever. Then again, there’s half a mountain burying these chambers. We have only gained access to a fraction of them.”

  “In which case, we will continue our search the way we started it,” said Adams. “We don’t have any other choice.” Their investigations on Bharatrum proper had proven to be less than fruitful. The hard-line attitude of Custodian Goraal ak Behruun hadn’t changed, either. He had only allowed them the bare minimum of freedom of movement, and the Federation’s regulations forced Adams to comply with the wishes and whims of the locals.

  The only thing the planetary space flight control had confirmed for them was the fact that the solar-jumper captured by the Venture had been flying to and from the system several times during the past few weeks. Before they had been able to follow up that lead, they had received word of the incident on Bharatrum VI-Delta.

  Sighing, Adams put his hands on the desk. “Thank you for your report, Commander zh’Thiin. Dismissed.”

  “Aye, sir.” Nodding briefly, the security chief turned on her heel and left.

  Once the door had closed behind her, Adams looked at his first officer. “How is Lieutenant Krish?”

  “She’s feeling guilty, sir,” Roaas answered. “She’s asking herself whether she made a mistake. I tried to talk her out of it. No one could expect the Purifying Flame to leave a suicide bomber behind in an abandoned base. Believing that would have been bordering on paranoia.”

  “Apparently you can’t be paranoid enough,” Adams said. “Have Counselor Courmont talk to her. I want to know whether Krish is fit for duty or whether I should hand over command of alpha shift’s interim crew to Commander Carson.”

  “I’ll let her know, sir.”

  “I’ll leave the reassigning of Meuer’s and Swallow’s duties to zh’Thiin, and Loanaa’s to Kirk. Any suggestions as to who should take over Lieutenant Bhansali’s shifts at tactical?”

  “I’d suggest Ensign Flores, Captain. She’s doing excellent work, and, so far, she hasn’t expressed any questionable views regarding the Renao—unlike several other possible candidates for this post I could think of.”

  “Right. Flores it is then. I’ll let her know personally.”

  “Very well, sir.” Roaas hesitated before adding: “About the condolence messages, Captain—would you want me to take them off your hands? I knew Loanaa fairly well.”

  Adams shook his head. “Thank you, Commander, but I’ll see to that myself. It’s not a pleasurable duty but it’s important and it’s one of the tasks of a captain.”

  The intercom signa
l sounded, and they heard Sarita Carson’s voice. “Bridge to Captain.”

  “What is it, Commander?”

  “We have just received a message from Memory Alpha.” Carson sounded excited. “You’re not going to believe this, Captain. They really did find a second chaos zone.”

  13

  NOVEMBER 27, 2385

  U.S.S. Prometheus, in orbit around Bharatrum

  “The Taurus Dark Cloud?” Kromm asked skeptically. “I do not know of it.”

  The Benzite science officer brought up a star chart on the screen of the Prometheus conference room for Kromm’s benefit. “It’s a region of approximately one hundred and fifty light years in diameter beyond the Pleiades Cluster. Due to its high molecular density, it absorbs the light of stars behind it and appears in the visual spectrum of black on telescopic records. Since it’s located within the Taurus Constellation as visible from Earth, it derives its name—”

  “If I wanted to listen to lectures, I’d have stayed at the Academy on Qo’noS.” Kromm snarled and pointed at the screen with his gauntleted right hand. “This Pleiades Cluster… I assume it is more than two hundred light years away?”

  “That’s correct.”

  Kromm shook his head. “Even at maximum warp, we’d take…” He trailed off, looking questioningly at Nuk, seated next to him.

  “Almost thirty-nine days,” the engineer said after a moment of thought. “But you can forget that, Captain. The Bortas won’t last two days at maximum. She might be tough but she’s growing old. No ship could last that long at those velocities, not even Prometheus.”

  Adams, sitting at the head of the table, nodded grimly. They had convened on his ship in order to make plans and talk, instead of taking action. People from Starfleet loved talking. But they were in charge here, so Kromm had no other choice but to comply whenever Adams called for yet another session of babbling into the air.

  This time, there were nine attendees. Adams’s group consisted not only of Mendon, but also Roaas, Kirk, and Ambassador Rozhenko. Kromm had brought Nuk, Rooth, and Spock along. L’emka was still first officer aboard the Bortas, but he had banned her from the inner circle of his trusted advisors. It was his right as captain to leave her behind in charge of the ship. Excluding her from all important talks and decisions was his revenge for her constant second-guessing of his authority. He would have loved to execute her in orbit around Iad for the murder of Toras. Unfortunately, he had also killed a warrior in a rage of madness whose brother was a QaS Devwl’, one of the troop commanders. In order to protect himself from a challenge from the warrior’s brother, he was forced to class all actions under the Son’s destructive influence as involuntary, and all casualties as victims of ill-fated accidents.