Babblings and Bodies
Posted on Thu Apr 30th, 2026 @ 2:26pm by Commander Jenna Ramthorne & Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell & Remal Kajun & Captain Rhenora Kaylen & 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 Micheal Stevens & Lieutenant JG T'Lar & Lieutenant JG Olivia Voight & Commander Jennifer Baldric
4,143 words; about a 21 minute read
Mission:
Beholder
Location: USS Sunfire
“It was never about hiding the trap… only to make them desire what was inside it, and give them a reason to step forward.”
I.S.S. Sunfire - Mirror Universe Vessel
MU T'Lar watched the viewscreen from the science station with silent trepidation but her outward appearance belied none of it.
The two figures in EVA suits were tantalizingly close now. She prayed to all of the old Vulcan gods that one of them was not the Prime Jacob Rosen. Although she had no way of knowing if their Jacob was anything like her Jacob, the idea of him being killed by a booby trap she set was too much to contemplate. The device was doubly redundant. Disable the ionic interference and it would trigger the phaser inside the casing to overload, causing the casket to explode with enough force to kill anyone within a thirty foot radius. Don't disable the ionic interference and manage to open the casing, and the phaser discharged into Batel's body but also immediately began to overload, again creating for all intents and purposes a mine. There was the minutest of chances to defeat her trap, but it would require split second detection of the energy build up, lightning reflexes with a transporter lock and just plain luck.
Bonnie didn’t arrive at T'Lar's side so much as appear, close enough that the faint shift of air betrayed her, one gloved hand resting lightly against the edge of the console as if she had always belonged there. No one else reacted. No one else noticed. Her voice came low, measured to die between them before it could travel. “You look, overly-certain,” she murmured, eyes flicking once to the viewscreen, tracking the two distant figures with predatory calm. “Certainty gets people killed.”
Her gaze slid to T’Lar, or rather through her, weighing, measuring, already calculating outcomes and acceptable losses. “Be careful of your position... Taskmaster.” The title wasn’t respect. It was a line drawn with a blade. "They are not to be underestimated."
"You make several flaws in your assessments of not only my demeanor, but in assuming that I would underestimate our opponents in any way shape or form. " T'Lar countered, her voice low and menacing. " Up to this point your babblings have been no more than a pebble in my shoe, annoying but easily dismissed for the ignorance they are. But question my position again and I promise you it is you who will find yourself in a fatal misstep."
Bonnie’s expression shifted by a fraction, the faintest curl at the corner of her mouth as the word lingered between them. “Babblings,” she repeated softly, tasting it, her tone edged with quiet amusement rather than offense. Her fingers tapped once against the console, light, deliberate, as her gaze settled fully onto T’Lar now. “Interesting choice,” she added, voice low, precise, already forming the next cut. “Especially from someone...”
Bonnie did not finish her statement. The faint curl of her smile lingered, but her eyes stayed empty. Her hand, at some point had moved with quiet ease, producing a slim blade from nowhere obvious. It rolled once between her fingers, catching the light in a slow, controlled turn. Not a threat, just a reminder.
A soft sound interrupted her. Remal’s throat cleared from somewhere behind them, the subtle break in the moment carrying more authority than either of their voices. “Problem… ladies?” he asked, tone even, controlled, the question settling into the space like a weight rather than an inquiry.
Bonnie’s gaze shifted past T’Lar for the briefest moment. When she looked back, the change was seamless, her expression smoothing into something almost pleasant. “Oh no,” she said lightly, the knife still moving in her hand with idle precision. “Just two ladies having a nice...” She tipped her head slightly, as if considering the word, then let the blade come to rest point-down against the console with a soft, exact tap. “...chat.” She clicked her tongue to emphasize her words.
Her eyes settled fully on T’Lar again. The amusement drained away, leaving something colder, something misaligned beneath the surface. The blade slipped out of sight as cleanly as it had appeared. Bonnie smiled then, thin and polite, with nothing behind it. Turned, and walked away.
T'Lar watched her impassively until she was gone then slowly raised her left hand from beneath the console where she'd had her own knife out and angled at the other woman's ribs. She glanced at Remal with a nod briefly as she secured the blade but said not a word.
USS Sunfire
On the Prime Sunfire, Rhenora held her breath, the decision weighing heavily on her shoulders. Abort the mission, salvage what they could and get the hell out of there. Or look deeper and brave the storm to capture whoever stole Batel's body.
"Are we able to beam the casket aboard? Along with the away team?" Right now, they were two targets, she needed to reduce the resources and consolidate their position.
"Recommend that we beam the casket and Commanders Baldric and House back on board captain." Savar spoke at Rhenora's side. His eyes on the casket and the two Sunfire officers.
T'Lar spoke up.
"At this time, Commander, there remains an inordinate amount of ionic interference surrounding the casket. It is unlikely that we will be able to get a positive transporter lock with the levels I am detecting, however I concede that this is not my primary area of expertise. I do know that pattern enhancers, however, are ineffectual with this sort of polarized ionization. I have a theory..."
She paused briefly,
"Were I attempting to conceal a weapon of some sort, such as a bomb or some sort of improvised explosive on such a casing, I would by all means make every effort to prevent the casket from being beamed aboard because, if memory serves, our transporters are set up in such a way as to detect and neutralize foreign weapons. I would set up just such a polarized ionization field to lure us into bringing the casket aboard via tractor beam or some other manual method, thereby allowing whatever nefarious booby trap I'd constructed to remain undetected until it could be triggered. Additionally, I would insure that any tampering with the ionic field generator would trigger the explosive."
Aurora’s senses were trained on the other ship, to what she could sense from those inside. “They’re waiting for us to take it, I can feel it.”
Rhenora's gut clenched, the need to keep her people safe warring with the priority of recovering the body of one of Starfleet's greatest.
"Can we beam everything within a 10m radius into the cargo bay. The casing, our people...." she tried, not wanting to use the tractor beam for fear of causing an explosion.
Bonnie didn’t look up, feeling like the wrong touch might decide things for her. She swallowed once, recalibrating the lock, watching the interference ripple across her readouts. “I can get our people back,” she said, voice tight but steady, threading control through the tension. “But I can’t guarantee the casket. Not cleanly.”
Her eyes flicked to the ionic distortion wrapping it, jaw setting as she forced the words out anyway. “And if I push it, if I try to pull everything at once, there’s a non-zero chance I trip... whatever they've buried in there.”
"Based on what T'Lar says and Aurora senses. I would say there is a high degree of probability that and explosive or some other weapon hidden/disguise on or in the casket and as such we need to be extra cautious." Savar added.
"Dean, can you 'sense' if Batel is actually in the casing, or if it's a ruse?" Rhenora tried one last ditch effort as the Sunfire scanned for anything that could be explosive. Meanwhile the tiny rocks that were colliding with the ship's shields began to organise themselves in a formation, as though they were programmed to do something far more sinister than drain the shields by a thousand tiny impacts.
"I.." Dean closed his eyes. This was still very weird; how he can still feel her, that connection. "She's, yes. She's in there still. I agree with everyone else, something is up. We can still go out there instead, Nora."
"Do you think you can retrieve her, safely?" Rhenora asked, watching as Dean and Jennifer floated next to the casket.
"Only one way to find out," Dean moved closer to the casket. Running his fingers along the cold casing. "We should manually inspect to see if it's been tampered with first, Jenn."
Jen floated over the other side, setting her teather to the casket so she didn't float away from it. She ran her tricorder over the length of the casket, unable to detect much of anything.
"The lack of data is disturbing, as though something's blocking our scanners" she advised.
Dean shook his head, "Then they've messed with it. We should be getting something one way or another." There was a sigh given, moving towards the head of the tube. Since it shouldn't have a warhead, Dean should be able to just manually open it.
Dean slid his fingers along the casing until he found the port to open the top section of the casing. Pushing his hand in to get to the manual release it suddenly clamped down and a timer started. Pulling to try to get his arm free. "Umm... Problem... problem.. Problem!"
"Why'd you stick your arm in there?" Baldric squawked as she relocated next to Dean and peered inside. "It's an explosive..." she announced. "I'll try to disconnect the power source" she reached inside, peering in the narrow space and thankful that her arms were thinner than Deans.
"Sunfire, we've triggered an explosive. Do NOT attempt a beamout" she snapped as she worked, feeling along what seemed to be a phaser to find the power cell.
"Just get my arm out. I'll football this damn explosive!" Dean was shifting back and forth trying to get his arm out.
"Yeah and if we let it explode, they blow Batel's body to hel, and us along with it. I can disarm it, just stop wriggling." Baldric snapped as her deft fingers found the casing where the power cell should be. "Almost got it"
Bonnie’s breath hitched as the timer flared across her display, “Commanders, hold position,” she said, voice tight but controlled. “Do not fight it, you’re making the ability to read the casing worse.”
Her eyes tracked the ionic distortion, mind snapping pieces together. “Commander Baldric, please press the tricorder flat against the casing. Full contact. I can use it as a relay, get a cross scan of the interior.” she breathed sharper, more urgent. “Keep it steady. That’s the only way I’m going to see what you’re dealing with before something goes horribly wrong, um, not that it will, I mean.”
Savar's eyes were on the main viewscreen and the image it held. "Bonnie." He said evenly. "Is it possible for you to send a feedback current through Commander Baldric's tricorder and deactivate the explosive so she can remove Commander House's arm from where it is trapped."
“Possibly,” she echoed, quieter, fingers adjusting the signal parameters with careful precision. “I can push a feedback current through the tricorder, ride the contact point into the casing.”
She hesitated a fraction, jaw tightening. “But I don’t think they built this to fail that simply. If I guess wrong, I might arm something secondary instead of shutting it down.” A breath, steadier now. “I can try, but it won’t be clean, and it won’t be safe.”
Jennifer pressed her tricorder through the small gap, jamming it hard against the torpedo casing. She hoped Bonnie had a brilliant idea as the seconds kept ticking away. "Anytime now would be nice"
Bonnie’s world narrowed to a single thread of signal. “There,” she breathed, almost to herself as the tricorder feed snapped into coherence. The casing unfolded across her display in layered geometry. “I’ve got you... hold it right there, Commander, don’t move.”
Her fingers moved faster now, translating the scan into a full internal map. “Multiple compartments… tight packing... it’s a cascading system,” she said, voice tightening as the timer bled down. “Primary trigger wrapped around Commander House’s arm, secondary failsafe tied to the casing integrity... they built it to punish.”
Then sharper, more focused. “I see the power cell. Small, offset... right side of the housing, just below your current position, Commander Baldric. You’re close. But there’s a feedback loop running through it. If you pull it wrong, it'll spike the detonator.”
Bonnie swallowed, recalculating in real time, her hands adjusting the tricorder relay signal by degrees. “I’m going to inject a counter current through your tricorder,” she said, forcing calm into her tone. “It should dampen the loop long enough for you to extract the powercell. Timing has to be exact.”
" Righteo..."Baldric kept the tricorder pressed and tried to use her other hand to feel for the power cell casing again. "Let me know when.. we've got...12 seconds before things go boom"
"Ready?" Her voice dropped, quiet but firm. “On my mark... three... two...”
Jennifer waited for the signal, and heard her tricorder emit a odd sound as the loop initiated. She yanked hard on her other hand, separating the power cell and cracking her elbow against the casing at the same time. " Got it.. tell me I got it..."
Bonnie didn’t breathe until she saw it, felt it really, the pattern collapsing in on itself like a circuit finally admitting defeat. The tight, angry spike in her readings flickered, surged once, then guttered out. “There, hold,” her voice came out sharper than she intended, eyes locked to the stream. “Power drop confirmed. Phaser’s offline... detonator’s not cycling.” A beat, then firmer, steadier. “You got it, Commander. You actually got it.”
Relief didn’t last long. Her focus snapped right back to the map, fingers already isolating the next problem. “Stand by, there’s still a mechanical lock on Commander House’s arm,” she said, leaning closer, refining the interior geometry. “Clamp system is independent of the power cell. Of course it is...” A quick exhale through her nose, half disbelief, half admiration for the cruelty of the design.
She adjusted the feed through the tricorder again, tracing the latch assembly. “Alright. I’ve got it. There’s a manual release track running along the inner ridge, opposite side of where your arm’s pinned, Commander House. Narrow slot. You won’t see it, you’ll have to feel for it.”
“Commander Baldric... you’re going to need to reach past him. About five centimeters deeper than where you pulled the cell. There’s a recessed tab. Press and hold, then slide it toward the nose of the casing.”
Bonnie inhaled, quieter now, but edged with tension. “Fair warning... you’re both going to be very close for this.”
"Excellent work Bonnie." Savar said from her side. His eyes on Baldric and House as they worked to free House's arm from the casket it was cruelly trapped in.
Bonnie’s shoulders hitched just slightly at Savar’s praise, a flicker of color rising into her cheeks before she ducked her head back toward the console, fingers moving again as if the work itself could hide it. “Just… doing my job, sir,” she muttered, a little too quickly, eyes refusing to leave the readouts.
Jen floated closer, pressing her body against Dean's as she jammed her arm further inside the casing - there was sure to be a torpedo shaped bruise later on her bicep. She reached under his arm, long fingers probing for the release on pure tactile feel. She held breath and pushed forward further, feeling the release with her fingertips but not having enough reach to activate it.
"Damnit.... I can feel it. I just need..." She grunted and wedged her arm up to the shoulder, fighting the pressure on the long muscle and bone as she felt for and attempted to activate the locking mechanism. Whoever had designed this - had NOT meant for it to be reversed.
Bonnie's head snapped up toward the viewscreen. “Commanders, heads up,” Bonnie said, sharper now. “I’ve got micro-fragment acceleration across your position. Pebble-sized, but they’re... vectoring... this isn’t natural.”
On screen, the field answered her. Tiny shards of rock, no larger than a few centimeters, began to shift direction, then surge, pelting the casket and the two figures in tight, staccato bursts. The impacts sparked faint flashes against their personal shields, rapid, relentless, like a swarm testing for weakness.
Bonnie was trying to track trajectories. “Those fragments are sharp and fast. Your suit integrity will not hold if that continues,” she warned, voice tightening despite her effort to stay controlled. “Shields are taking the first hits, but they’re going to degrade under sustained impact.”
Her eyes flicked back to the internal map, then to the storm forming outside it, caught between two problems racing toward the same conclusion. “Commander Baldric, you need to finish that release now,” she pressed, urgency creeping in. “We’re running out of time.”
Her shoulder burned, pushed almost out of its socket as Jennifer made a last ditch effort to push the release just two centimetres further, feeling it give under her fingers. The micro asteroids were impacting her personal shields, and she could see the shield strength rapidly decreasing under the onslaught.
"Got it!" She shouted as the release finally engaged, allowing the top of the casket to lift up slightly. With the power cell removed from the bomb, and the lid no longer holding them hostage - it was time to bring the Sunfire in.
" Righto - we're good, come pick us up before these damned asteroids penetrate our suits"
Bonnie didn’t hesitate, already attempting to compensate for the interference still rippling across her sensors. “Not clear yet,” she said quickly, eyes narrowing as the distortion refused to fully collapse. “There’s still ionic interference hanging on… I don’t like it.”
She worked, tightening the pattern on the two EVA suits instead of the casing. “Commanders, I need you to push off the casket. Put at least ten meters between you and it. I can get a clean lock on you, not the casing.”
A brief pause as she rechecked the solution, then firmer, decisive. “Once you’re clear, I’ll bring you straight aboard. We’ll tractor the casket into the cargo bay after. Do not stay attached to it.”
" Do it" Could be heard in the background as the Captain ordered Bonnie's plan to be implemented. As much as Jen didn't like leaving the casing behind, leaving it vulnerable to be beamed onto another ship - this time is was life over... well.. not alive.
"Copy Bonnie, disconnecting now" She nodded towards Dean who motioned that he had heard the message, and untethered from the torpedo, activating the small thrusters in her suit to move away from it.
Bonnie held the transporter lock until the separation was clean, tracking the distance with quiet precision before she gave the order. “Energize.” The beam took them without resistance, and she followed the pattern all the way through re-materialization before letting herself breathe. “Commander's House and Baldric are safely back on board,” she reported, steady and professional, though a hint of relief slipped through as her shoulders eased a fraction.
A flicker on her sensors caught her attention. “Wait,” she said, quieter now, her posture shifting forward. She watched the casket adjust itself against the natural flow of debris. “Captain,” Bonnie said, tension returning to her voice, “I am reading a localized gravitational eddy. It is... interacting with the casing.”
On the viewscreen, the torpedo-shaped casket responded in kind, its path correcting in slow, deliberate increments as it slipped through the asteroid field, no longer adrift but guided. Bonnie turned slightly in her seat, “It is moving toward us,” she said, more firmly now. “On its own.”
The tractor beam engaged a moment later, a line of force reaching out and locking onto the object as it continued its quiet approach.
Rhenora dared to breathe as what appeared to be a tiny shooting star blazed in the background. Their people were safe, and the casing was about to be. The microasteroids continued to amass around the Sunfire, not causing a concern - yet, but they were therr for a reason. The sooner they got the torpedo on board the better.
"Helm, set a course out of here and back to Earth, maximum speed. As soon as we get what's ours we get the hell out of here"
"A logical and proper course of action captain. The sooner we set course to Earth the better it will be for all involved." Savar chimed in as Baldric and House were safe and the casket was about to be.
Jenna’s read the confirmation as the tractor beam completed its work. “Casket is secured,” she said, voice steady, grounded. “Cargo bay confirms containment. It’s on board.”
Her hands moved immediately, thrusters firing in controlled bursts as the Sunfire eased backward through the tightening field, pulling away from the drifting debris with deliberate care. The ship pivoted on a narrow axis, hull sliding between stone and shadow as she turned them cleanly off their approach.
“Reversing course,” she added, guiding the nose toward open space while keeping their profile tight against the grid’s unseen reach. “Plotting exit vector.”
I.S.S. Sunfire - Mirror Universe Vessel
MU T'Lar watched with increasing frustration as her carefully laid trap failed to be fully sprung. Whoever was out there was either very lucky or more likely just that damned intelligent to be able to disable her countermeasures. Stranger still, absent the use of the Prime Sunfire's tractor beam, T'Lar detected movement from the inactive torpedo casing towards the other ship.
"More Jedi mind control voodoo bullshit!" she said through gritted teeth as she slammed her palm down on the console.
"Not only did they disable the trap, but the casket is moving towards their ship of its own free will, as if being pushed by the gods themselves... I cannot explain it."
Suddenly the Prime Sunfire's tractor beam lanced out and took hold of the casket.
"It is getting away!"
The bridge held for half a breath as the casket slipped from them, the Prime tractor beam locking on with quiet certainty. Remal did not move. He watched it go, jaw flexing once, slowly, deliberately, the smallest sign of irritation threading beneath something colder. His eyes tracked the motion, measuring, recalculating, then settling as if the outcome had already adjusted itself to his design.
“Impressive,” he said quietly, the word placed without warmth, without resentment. A pause followed, his gaze lingering on the fading telemetry. “...and inconvenient.”
The Ferengi leaned forward immediately, unable to stop himself, hands tightening together as his voice slipped through the tension. “The body,” he pressed, urgency sharpening his tone. “Our agreement was contingent upon delivery. I trust this... deviation does not affect my, err, our compensation?”
Remal’s attention shifted to him, slow and exact. It was not a look of anger. It was worse. “You will be paid,” he said, each word clean, controlled, leaving no room for negotiation. A slight tilt of his head followed, as if clarifying something simple. “For what we deliver.”
The Ferengi swallowed, nodding quickly, calculation already reshaping itself around the answer.
Remal turned away from him before the motion finished. His gaze moved to the forward station, to the dark field beyond, where shapes waited among the stone, patient and armed. “Signal the raiders,” he said, tone steady, absolute. “Spring the trap.”
The Nausicaan at the console straightened, something eager flashing through his expression as his hands moved to comply. A low, anticipatory growl slipped from him as he keyed the transmission. “They’ve been waiting,” he muttered, almost to himself.
Remal inclined his head slightly. “Then wish them well,” he replied, the faintest trace of something cold threading through his voice. “Happy hunting.”
Across the belt, engines stirred to life in silence, weapons primed in the dark, the waiting broken all at once.
Remal’s gaze shifted slightly, just enough to acknowledge the loose thread he had not forgotten. “Hold position,” he said, calm, precise, the order cutting clean through the rising momentum. A measured pause. His eyes found Baldric without turning his head fully. “Your trial,” he said, voice low, controlled. “Begins now.”
TBC
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