Team Bajor pt6

Posted on Wed Oct 1st, 2025 @ 5:49pm by Remal Kajun & Captain Rhenora Kaylen & Commander Savar cha'Salik hei-Surak Talek-sen-deen & Lieutenant Commander Aurora Vali

2,369 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: For Bajor!
Location: Master Satellite Warden

"Well, speak up there, Junior? Razorcat got your tongue? These fine folks are interested in your work, as am I." He watched as the 'crew' shifted nervously until one of them started reaching for something slowly.

Another, trying to distract with his voice, spoke, "As you know, Bajor is under a severe drought. We're here by authorization to try to find out what's gone wrong. And as this is a work area, not subject to tours at this time." He sneered, "I'm going to politely have to ask you to leave."

"Really? I was so looking forward to seeing how everything worked? Im sure you lovely people could explain everything to us simple folk" Rhenora batted her eyelids and attempted to appear meek and diminutive.

Savar moved around until he was beside Rhenora. Excuse me sir as a tourist and something of a weather geek, weather is something of a hobby of mine. I and as the lady said the others would greatly appreciate the opportunity to watch you work."

“Meteorology is something of a hobby” Aurora smiled sweetly from where she was leaning against the doorframe playing the innocent curious female. “I'd love to have a look at what you’re doing.” All she needed was to get close enough to use a Vulcan nerve pinch.

Savar nodded at Aurora's statement and added to it. "You see gentlemen, you have a very interested group of tourists here. It would be monumentally disappointing if you could not spare a few minutes of your time showing along with telling us what you are doing."

“Ah, look at this, lad!” Yitka clapped his hands together like a showman unveiling a prize. “These fine folk here have come all this way to see the great and glorious Weather Wardens in action. Surely you can spare us a little performance? A flicker of lightning, a puff of storm—something dazzling, eh?” He rocked on his heels, grin wide and reckless, already knowing full well he was standing one misplaced spark away from a fire fight. But blast it, he’d been armed with nothing but his tongue for ninety years, and it had gotten him out of worse scrapes than this.

Remal, still unable to see much, took his weapon out and aimed it between Rhen's legs. If anything he's get at least one good shot in.

Rhenora wandered over to the nearest panel, still unthreatening, more like a school child would couldn't control her curiosity. "Oooooo this one likes like the atmospheric moisture regulation system...wow...there's an error message. What does 'off-line' mean?"

The one who seemed to be the voice of the group casually stepped forward, "We've had to take a number of systems offline while we make updates and repairs. Please, I must implore you to vacate the premises while we continue our work. Um, I'm sorry about your tour, but there will be no demonstration and no further need for discussion." He touched Rhenora's arm in a manner to usher her away from the console.

The “maintenance” crew worked on, their tools clinking against panels, but the way their shoulders stiffened and eyes darted toward the tour group betrayed them. Yitka’s gaze sharpened when one of them slid a wiring harness into a squat black box he’d never seen in all his years babysitting the Wardens. He clicked his tongue loudly, drawing every eye back to him.

“Now, that’s a sorry sight,” he declared, striding forward with the presence of a carnival barker and the weight of a man who knew this machinery like his own bones. “These fine folk didn’t pay for a front-row seat to you fumbling with mystery boxes. They came to see the Wardens sing! Surely there’s something online you can show us? A bit of storm over Kendra Valley, a playful breeze over the Fire Caves? Come now, don’t tell me you’ve gone and broken the very system you’re meant to be maintaining.” His grin flashed wide, but his eyes were hard as duranium, a challenge hanging under every word as he casually shifted himself just out of the most obvious line of fire.

One of the “maintenance” techs froze mid-motion, nearly dropping his spanner before catching it with a clang. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“Ah... systems calibration, that’s all,” the man said too quickly. “Nothing worth showing, really. Just… just a routine diagnostic. You know how it is, uh, delicate work. Wouldn’t want to risk an unscheduled weather event, eh?” He chuckled weakly, glancing at his comrades as though begging for backup.

But the black box still sat there, its indicator light pulsing in a rhythm no Weather Warden system had ever produced.

"But if there's nothing wrong with them, why is it not raining?" Rhenora asked meekly as though she had no idea what was going on. She had felt something when one of them had touched her, and it had rattled her as she tried to place the dark feeling.

He smiled a crooked smile, "You see, darlin', that's what we're trying to figure out. That's why we're here. And you are keeping us from our work." While he was watching her, Yitka had moved away, and now Savar and Aurora were in the room, fully leaving Remal and Zio on the solitary staircase. He and his crew were outnumbered and surrounded.

"Perhaps a quick demonstration. Would that appease you enough to make you leave? Huh?" He turned back to his crew and walked up to the one blinking console. His crew was giving him questioning stares. He returned a stink eye, suggesting that if they just played along, this nightmare scenario would be over soon enough.

"A demonstration would be most appreciated and appropriate as this is a weather satellite. It would be most gratifying to see it in action." Savar said with a fair amount of curiosity in his voice.

"You can make it rain? Really? I would be oh so grateful if you did," she batted her eyelids in a way that made most men swoon. "Can you imagine if our people finally had enough food to eat again? Crops in our fields and food in our bellies? It would be like the coming of the Prophets themselves."

The man chuckled awkwardly, "Now, I didn't say that. If I could make it rain, don't you suppose I'd have done so by now?" He stepped over a pile of tools and up to the working console. "We're just trying to safeguard the system against bad actors. The best I can give you..." He pressed a series of buttons, out of order and randomly. The system groaned and then he presented, "There you go, see?"

Yitka squinted at the console’s display, then jabbed a thick finger toward the viewport where a wispy smear of vapor curled high above the planet. “That? That little puff up there?” His laugh boomed through the chamber, half cough, half cackle. “Don’t make me laugh, lad. I’ve seen stronger steam rising off my morning jumja tea! You call that weather? You call that control?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough for the crew behind him to catch the sharper edge beneath the humor. “Now, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to hide something under that weak cloud trick. And believe me, I do know better.” His grin snapped back, broad and toothy, as he straightened up, clapping his hands like a delighted patron at a bad play. “Come now, give us the real show before these fine folk start asking for their money back!”

The crewman’s face flushed a deep crimson as the rest of the team froze, tools stilled mid-motion. He followed Yitka’s finger to the faint, unimpressive wisp of cloud and swallowed hard.

“That’s… that’s just a test pattern,” he stammered, his earlier bravado faltering. “Baseline diagnostics to check atmospheric dispersal.” His hand hovered uncertainly over the console, fingers twitching like a man searching for a lifeline. “The, uh, the real systems are offline for scheduled maintenance. Sensitive components. Not the sort of thing we’d just… show to tourists.”

But his words tripped over themselves, landing heavy and awkward in the silence that followed. His eyes darted toward his comrades, silently pleading for someone else to step in and cover the lie.

Yitka tilted his head, the half-ear catching the red glow of the console lights, and let out a long, theatrical sigh. “A test pattern, is it? Fascinating. Because in all my years crawling over these Warden guts... long before you lot could tell a plasma relay from a chamber pot... I’ve never once seen a baseline diagnostic produce a lonely puff of cloud and a console that whines like a gored targ." He eyed the man hard, "You’re either the worst liars I’ve ever seen…” He let the pause hang just long enough, then grinned wide, “…or you’re about to give these fine folk the best damn behind-the-scenes tour in satellite history.”

Despite his initial reluctance in Yitka's abilities, Savar had to admit (at least to himself) he was impressed with Yitka's powers of observation as well as his ability to shrewdly put the maintenance workers on the defensive and to some fancy tap tapping. "Please do give us a behind the scenes tour it would so illuminating and ultimately fascinating."

Rhenora looked on with interest, keeping the guise of being meek and demure. "Dakar province, that would be amazing. I would consider it a personal favour if you could make it rain there"

"Indeed. Please do, It would be most worthwhile and educational to see the satellite doing the job it was created for." Savar replied adding his voice to Rhenora's.

They waited, still ready to see if this could be resolved without weapons. As time ticked on Rhenora began to doubt this, the workers were clearly procrastinating and unsure.

Savar was ready to act at an instant's notice and he knew Aurora and the others were equally prepared to act. However his eyes remained on the workers and their words and actions.

"I... I..." the standing impostor attempted to make it look more authentic but really all he wanted to do was make these 'tourists' leave. He pressed a number of buttons quickly as if trying to act like he knew what he was doing.

Yitka’s one good ear twitched, the half-ear curling like an antenna. He’d been watching the impostors mash buttons like drunk Ferengi playing dom-jot, and he finally barked out, “Pah! If you’re going to tickle the console, at least do it in rhythm. Look.. like this.”

Before anyone could stop him, Yitka reached over, flicked three breakers in an odd sequence, and scraped a stripped copper wire against a grounding plate. The panel spat a fat crack of static, arcing across the controls.

Blue sparks leapt through the air, crawling over the impostors like hungry fireflies. Two of them jerked and went down hard, slumping over their seats with the smell of singed hair.

The third, wide-eyed and smoking at the collar, remained standing, barely. He clutched the console for balance, teeth chattering from the residual charge.

“Ahh,” Yitka exhaled, brushing his hands as though dusting off crumbs. “Now that is how you make it rain.” Yitka wagged a finger (the one he still had) at him. “Don’t worry, lad. I left just enough juice in your bones to keep your tongue wagging. You’ll answer questions, or I’ll show you what the second round feels like.”

Savar watched as the 'maintenance' workers were hit by an electrical charge and went down hard like a drugged Vulcan sehlat. "Impressive. Most impressive, Mr. Yitka. Well done, my compliments." Savar spoke with a slight nod of his head.

Rhenora swept forward, her cloak whispering as she moved. Reaching into her satchel, she removed some old zipties and restrained the two downed men, before moving to the third.

"You are no maintenance engineers. Now, before I toss all three of you out the airlock for the crimes you've inflicted on our people, who do you work for?" The words were uttered low and in a most threatening tone.

Remal came up the stairs and focused his weapon. "Perhaps we should turn them over to the authorities. I'm sure there are a few Constables who would jump at the chance to play hero."

Zio also came up the stairs but stayed back, wary they had missed any, she remained on the defensive. "Without any hard evidence, they are likely to disappear soon after we hand them over."

The conscious man spat at Rhenora, "You're no tourists. We would rather die than tell you who paid us."

"That can be arranged." Zio seethed. "Yitka, do you think you can get this mess back in working order and make it rain? If anything, that could flush out our enemy."

He straightened, eyes flicking to Zio and then to the consoles with the fond, dangerous look of a man about to coax a temperamental beast back to life. “As for making it rain—aye, I can coax her. She’s old, she’s ornery, and she answers to a tune only a fool or a lunatic would try to hum without practice. Give me a half hour, some spare fuses, and a watchful eye; I’ll have her cough up a little weather that’ll make whoever hired these bastards peek out of their holes."

"Splendid" Rhenora glared at the would be saboteurs and motioned for Savar and Aurora to take them back to the shuttle. "We'll have a little 'chat' with them before we turn them over to any authority" Rhenora walked a dangerous line being a Starfleet Captain. Authorities be damned they had a planet to save.

As the downed men stirred back to consciousness, Savar pulled them roughly to their feet so they could join their companion in the shuttle.

Aurora kept her weapon trained on the two men, just incase either got any ideas.

TBC

 

RSS Feed