Earth Pt3
Posted on Sat Apr 11th, 2026 @ 4:04am by Captain Rhenora Kaylen & Commander Jenna Ramthorne & Commander Savar cha'Salik hei-Surak Talek-sen-deen & Commander Dean House & Lieutenant Commander Thriss Kla'ren & Lieutenant Commander Aurora Vali & Lieutenant JG Jacob Rosen & Lieutenant JG Rowan Hale & Lieutenant JG T'Lar & Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell & Remal Kajun
2,413 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
Beholder
Location: SOL Solar System
"Commander Thriss, Savar," Rowan called out, his eyes fixed on an fluctuating frequency spike on his screen. "If they mirrored my encryption to authorise that transport, they’ve likely left a parasitic sub routine embedded in our primary computer core. It’s piggybacking on my voice to stream our own telemetry straight to that Bird of Prey."
He turned his head slightly to look at Rhenora, his expression a mask of pale, professional focus.
"That relic isn't outrunning us, Captain. It’s reading our navigation logs before we even execute the turns. Using an ancient T’Liss Class to outmanoeuvre a modern Starfleet vessel is practically impossible - unless the carriage is using our own eyes to see the road."
He flicked a data packet over to Bonnie and Savar’s consoles.
"Commander Durnell, cross-reference that Bird of Prey’s cloak harmonics with the resonance echo from the morgue. If the frequencies match, it means they aren't just flying away... they’re still connected to my encryption. We don't need to hunt them down; we need to cut the cord."
Bonnie’s eyes flicked across the incoming data Rowan pushed to her console, fingers already moving as she folded it into what she had been tracking. The pieces settled faster than she liked, the shape of it clean in a way that made her stomach dip.
“Yeah… I see it,” she said quietly, a small nod to herself as much as anyone else. “They’re still digitally tied to us. I'm running a traceroute to find it and cut it.”
"Talk to me people, is this Bird of Prey using our own nav system to evade us?" Rhenora's voice cut through the chatter. "To evade, or to run" there was a distinct difference in the two options.
"Raise shields, charge weapons. Fire to disable only"
"We're already set and ready. Disable only. We're getting her back, Captain." Dean nodded.
Bonnie leaned in closer, the bridge fading at the edges as her focus narrowed to the thread Rowan had pointed out. It wasn’t loud or obvious. It sat there, tucked into the flow of telemetry like it belonged, echoing just enough of Rowan’s encryption to pass as legitimate. Her fingers slowed, careful now, tracing it back instead of tearing at it outright, following the line to see how deep it ran.
She isolated the routine, contained it, then hesitated for half a heartbeat. Her hand moved anyway. She cut the signal output. The display shifted instantly.
The Bird of Prey they had been tracking stuttered once across the sensor grid, its outline warping like heat over stone, then collapsed inward and vanished completely. Bonnie blinked at the sudden absence, her breath catching as her brain scrambled to reconcile it. “Um… that’s...” she exhaled, a quiet, almost disbelieving sound, before glancing up from her console.
“Captain… that wasn’t a ship,” she said, voice steadier now, though a trace of embarrassment threaded through it. “It was a... smudge. Like… something laid over our sensors to give us something to chase while they went another way.” She shifted slightly, one hand lifting in a small, uncertain gesture. “We’ve been following a fake.”
"So where is the ship - and how is this.. fake... projecting our course?" Rhenora asked, frustrated that they had been played - again. "If it's a projection - where has it come from?"
"Um... Sensor ghost... and the signal that co-opted our sensors originated in the brig level. Maybe we could ask the Nausicaans?" Bonnie offered.
The Nausicans - they were scheduled to be transferred to Starfleet Security at 1400 hours today - so they were still in the brig, and still causing havoc.
"Security - get down there and sweep the cells, have a chat to our Naussican friends and find out how the hell they're playing sensors ghosts" Rhenora ordered - now pissed. "We need to find the ship - suggestions?"
Jacob entered the Bridge, clipping his pips on and attempting to straighten hair that could generously be described as disheveled. Gonzalez looked up at his hair as he approached the Ops station, rising to let him take his post, and laughed silently. Jacob looked at her and silently mouthed "Not now. Will tell you later. Maybe." He sat, typing in commands and reading the sensor logs.
"Captain, what if they haven't left the local Earth area? Perhaps they're trying to get us to chase in order to safely escape?" Jacob asked turning towards the Command chairs.
That gave her pause. They hadn't left the Sol system yet - having been chasing the sensor ghost at impulse power. What would they be looking for though? "Got any suggestions Chief? Where do we start?" They were back at square one with their quarry possibly getting further away by the minute - or possibly be hiding in plain sight.
Jacob began typing away at his console. "Pulling up data from Space Traffic Control." The display filled with millions of dots representing vessels of all kinds. "Filtering out Starfleet vessels, autonomous tenders and repair drones, member planet diplomatic ships, and merchant vessels with verified flight plans." Slowly with each command, dots disappeared from the viewer, narrowing their search. "That leaves a few hundred private vessels without a registered flight plan, unaffiliated with official entities. From here..." Jacob looked to Dean, momentarily unsure how to ask. "Commander, can you find any residual trace yourself?"
Dean sucked in a breath. This was supposed to have been done with already. Someone had to go and mess up laying Batel to rest? His jaw clenching. Whomever it was should not have pulled this. He didn't care if he got put in prison they are going to pay.
For the moment, Dean closed his eyes and tried to feel around, not that he knew how this worked but.. let's try it anyway. "129 mark 78."
"Jenna, follow that heading" Kaylen ordered, sitting back in her command chair - not questioning how Dean could track a dead woman. She noted a concerned expression from Jennifer - still clad in ripped jeans and leather.
"Aye, new course plotted and ready." Jenna replied as she engaged the new vector. The mighty Sunfire turned an almost 180 degree arc back towards Earth, or slightly to the side like. They had traveled just far enough that the Earth now looked like a small blue dot set against the dark black veil of space.
"Punch it Commander" Kaylen ordered, and waited for the second round of cat and mouse to begin.
T'Lar reported to the counseling suite still wearing her Starfleet issue sweat suit and joggers, with her hair still in a ponytail. Her stomach growled from hunger so she replicated a bowl of oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts and settled in behind her desk. First order of business, find out what was going on. She hadn't seen Counselor Vali or Remal when she entered. She wasn't even sure if they were aboard.
=/\= T'Lar to Counselor Vali. I am back aboard. I am unsure of what is going on at this time but I stand ready to assist in any way possible.=/\=
No answer was forthcoming, but given the chaos of the situation, that was understandable. Still T'Lar couldn't afford to be out of the loop. She knew one person that might be able to help...
=/\=Counselor T'Lar to Crewman Lockyear =/\=
=/\=Go for Lockyear Counselor... =/\=
=/\= Can you give me a sitrep? I just got back aboard. =/\=
=/\=Ahhh... we are kinda busy right now Counselor, but basically someone stole Captain Batel's body and we are trying to get it back.=/\=
Ponfo Mirran!
Aurora was doing as instructed by Sarah resting in her quarters after being unwell. Her duty hours were reduced to accommodate her resting her throat and voice. She tapped her comm badge. “Vali to T’Lar, apologies I’m on reduced duties, please do what you can to assist whilst I’m off duty.”
T'Lar tapped her combadge in return, "Understood Counselor. I will do my best to represent the department in your stead while you recover."
That makes me acting ship's Counselor... I need to get to the bridge! T'Lar thought as she got up from her desk and headed for the door.
Back on the bridge Rhenora sat forward, elbows resting on her knees as though willing the Sunfire to catch up with their quarry.
"Time to intercept?"
"We are at max impulse inside the system, ETA until point of contact two minutes." Jenna reported while maintaining a lock with her sensors, trying to find something, anything.
"Divert power from all non-essential systems to the engines, if they get through the system security grid and go to warp...." Kaylen let that hang for a few moments. "Charge weapons, target their engines..."
"All power from non essential systems has been reouted to the engines captain." Savar noted and then added , "Phasers and photon torpedoes online and ready at your order."
T'Lar stepped out of the turbolift and crossed over to the Counselor's Chair, taking her seat.
"Fire on their engines, let's level the playing field" the Captain ordered.
THIEF SHIP
The ship ran quiet in the spaces between signals, its hull slipping along the edge of Federation awareness while dim amber light traced the seams of bulkheads and left most of the compartment in shadow. A Nausicaan at the forward console shifted his weight with a low, restless exhale, one hand hovering over controls he did not fully trust, while the other drummed a slow, impatient rhythm against the metal. “Say again,” he muttered, his voice rough with restrained agitation as his eyes flicked across the sensor bleed. “Hoomans followed that far?”
MU Bonnie did not look up at first, her fingers moving in delicate, almost absent patterns across the interface as if she were adjusting something too fine for anyone else to see. The glow from the panel painted her features in soft contrast, calm where the others carried tension, precise where they carried force.
“They followed exactly where they were meant to,” she said, her tone light, almost conversational, as if she were discussing weather rather than deception. She leaned back a fraction, eyes lifting at last toward the display as a faint curve touched one corner of her mouth. “The ghost held together longer than expected.”
A second Nausicaan gave a low grunt of approval from near the hatch, arms folded as he watched the scrolling data with narrowed focus. “Starfleet prides itself on sensors,” he said, the words edged with a quiet kind of amusement. “Turns out they can be taught new stories.”
“Everything can be taught a story,” Bonnie replied, her gaze flicking sideways without turning her head, her voice softening just enough to invite the thought to settle. She reached forward again, adjusting a sequence with careful intent, then stilled as a new line of data resolved across the screen.
“We are approaching the gap,” she added, more focused now, her posture aligning with the moment. “Their net thins here. Old infrastructure. Incomplete overlap. We pass through and their eyes lose us.”
From the rear of the compartment, a Ferengi shifted in place, his hands clasped together with restless precision as his eyes darted between the crew and the readouts. “And once we pass through,” he said, his voice carrying that careful blend of curiosity and concern, “our arrangement remains… secure, yes?”
He offered a tight smile that never reached his eyes, his tone measured in the way of someone who counted outcomes before trusting them. “The value of this… prize… depends on delivery.”
No one answered him. The silence felt empty. It settled, it pressed. And then, from the deeper shadow near the bulkhead, where the light failed to reach and presence gathered without announcement, a voice entered the space as if it had always been there.
“Good.”
The word came low and even, each consonant clean, the tone carrying no urgency and no need for it, while a figure resolved only in suggestion as he shifted forward just enough for the outline of him to exist. His gaze moved across the room without haste, taking each of them in with quiet precision before resting briefly on the forward display.
“As soon as we are through,” he continued, a slight pause placed with intent between thought and instruction, “signal that we are on the way with the prize.” His head tilted a fraction, consideration passing behind his eyes like something already decided. “Then go to warp.”
The Nausicaan at the console straightened without thinking, his earlier restlessness settling into something sharper, more directed, as his hand moved to comply. “Aye,” he said, the word coming quicker than before, as if the shape of the moment had changed around him.
Bonnie watched the exchange with quiet interest, her fingers resting lightly against the panel as she observed the subtle shift in the room, the way tension reorganized itself into focus. She turned her attention back to her instruments, eyes narrowing slightly as another signal brushed against the edge of her awareness.
“There is a change,” she said after a breath, her tone still calm though a new layer of attention threaded through it. She adjusted the display, isolating the pattern, then glanced over her shoulder toward the shadow where he stood. “The Prime Sunfire has corrected its course. They are no longer chasing the ghost.” A faint, knowing note entered her voice as she returned her gaze to the screen. “They are coming back toward us.”
The Ferengi’s composure tightened at that, his fingers pressing together with greater insistence as he leaned forward just enough to betray his concern. “That sounds… less than ideal,” he said carefully, his eyes flicking toward the darkness as if searching for reassurance he could measure.
There came a brief stillness, the kind that held just long enough to make the next words matter.
“Too little,” Remal said, his voice quieter now, the softness drawing attention rather than losing it, while his gaze remained fixed on the shifting lines of approach. A measured breath followed, unhurried, absolute. “…too late.”
He did not move after that. He did not need to.
Around him, the ship adjusted its course, the gap in the sensor net opening ahead like a seam waiting to be slipped through, and every motion that followed carried the quiet certainty that the outcome had already been decided.
TBC
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