Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 1: Eye of the Beholder
Scene 7: Teacup Tiger

1.7

Teacup Tiger

The U.S.S. Mako traveled with the U.S.S. Beagle for three days before handing off escort duty to a more appropriately designed (and named) ship - the U.S.S. Escort under the command of Captain Rhonda Carter. Carter’s career had been lackluster and she probably would never have made 1st Lieutenant if it hadn’t been for the War with the Dominion. 

Star Fleet had needed fighters and in Rhonda Carter, they had found one. In the span of two years she was promoted four times and decorated five for valor. Because of her diminutive size and combative personality she had been nicknamed the Teacup Tiger in Star Fleet Basic Training. She had owned this nickname and an artist had painted the image of a tiger leaping out of a teacup onto the Escort’s hull.

The three captains met, along with General Krank and Lt. Cmdr Senek, in the Beagle’s large conference room. Carter, at age 48, still looked like a teenage tomboy - only 5’ tall and maybe 100 pounds. Her mousey brown hair was long, fine and straight. She stood immediately when the Hero of Al Selem VI entered the room. 

The change in General Krank was nothing short of astonishing. He still carried the heavy black cane, but it was now more weapon than support. He was still gaunt and haunted looking, but he could walk and stand up straight. “wamwI’ mach?”

Carter’s aggressive features grew more aggressive and her blue eyes blazed. “blQ Duj puy ngo’!” she responded.

The two heroes of the Dominion War glared at each other for a long moment. Captain Yui Song leaned back in her chair, an unreadable, passive expression on her face. Captain Skip Howard sat forward in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face, his fingertips pressed together. He had switched from black to a turquoise blue fingernail polish, with matching eyeshadow.

Krank grunted in satisfaction and took a seat next to Captain Howard.

Carter broke into a smile and resumed her seat.

“Captain Carter,” intoned Howard, “It appears Star Fleet has chosen to have the tiger watch over the dog. I am sure you have been thoroughly briefed on your assignment?”

“You mean that I am to destroy this ship before allowing it to fall into the hands of an ally, much less an enemy? And similarly her crew?” Rhonda Carter was a study in raw aggression. 

“Let’s hope it never comes to that, but yes,” Howard responded. “As a last resort. The Beagle’s technology - and the knowledge about it - are that highly sensitive. And while this dog is not entirely without teeth and claws, my standing orders are to escape, not to protect our escort, should it come to that.”

“Then I have no doubt Star Fleet chose the right man for the job,” Carter rejoined.

Captain Howard took the backhanded compliment with a slight giggle. “Everyone has to be good at something,” he rejoined. “Even skipping out.” Howard took a breath, then plowed into the purpose for this meeting: 

“Our three ships have been formed into an ersatz task force with a hybrid mission. Tyr’phoyx Mining Consortium, a corporation formed under the laws of the Trillian Senate and therefore recognized by the Federation, has violated Federation treaty law, lost a mining exploration ship with a complement of 127 combined crew and mining engineers, and caused a crisis with the Ferengi Commerce Authority in a single act of breathtaking stupidity.”

Howard tapped a control on the conference table in front of him with a bright, sparkly, turquoise fingernail and a planetary system in orbit of a red dwarf star appeared as a holographic projection above the conference table. The image continued zooming in to a moderate size planet, 6th from its sun, then to a grainy image of a small, apparently derelict ship in orbit. “The ship is Tyr’phoyx 8. The FCA has prohibited the company from mounting a rescue mission - and they have more than adequate firepower to ensure compliance.”

“I recognize that system from long-range telemetry,” said Captain Yui Song. “The FCA designation for it translates to D, Red South 179 - well inside Ferengi territory - on the other side of their homeworld. Am I correct?”

“You are, Song,” Howard replied. 

“I have never seen it in such close detail. How did you obtain this telemetry?” Yui asked.

Skip Howard smiled. “The Ferengi gave it to us.”

“Surely you mean they sold it to us,” remarked Captain Rhonda Carter. 

“Gave,” Howard replied. “Gifted. Free. No charge. No negotiation. No gold-pressed latinum. No paperwork. Offered it up to us on a silver platter, along with free passage through their space to run a rescue mission…”

General Krank grunted. “Beware ferengi bearing gifts. Those commodities carry the greatest price.”

“You couldn’t be more right,” Howard intoned. “But this is a very unusual case. The ferengi are terrified. I don’t know why and they’re trying their best to hide it, but it’s written all over everything they’re doing.”

“How are you so certain of that?” Carter asked.

“Hello…” Howard gestured toward his face by wiggling all 10 of his turquoise fingernails: “The Skipper knows fear. They’re not just frightened - they’re completely terrified. They tried to cover it with ferengi bluster, but they were acting like people facing certain doom. Whatever those trills got mixed up in at D, Red South 179, the ferengi clearly think that they won’t be able to contain it. They came to us hoping for a miracle. Senek, analysis please…”

The gorgeous, blonde vulcan spoke up for the first time - his large green eyes as mournful as ever: “Ferengi telemetry registers 19 life forms active aboard Tyr’phoyx 8, in orbit of D, Red South 179. Specifically, 18 trill and one unidentified. Life support is minimal, although there are no outward signs of damage. Apparently the trill deliberately vented all of their antimatter, dilithium, ejected and destroyed their warp core and their impulse engines, leaving only the thrusters. Readings of the planet are obscured by electromagnetic interference from a very strong magnetosphere, however there are some indications of concentrations on the surface that may indicate a rudimentary power grid.”

“Whatever has the ferengi spooked, it must have frightened the trills pretty badly too,” Carter mused.

“That is not the only possible explanation of the facts extant,” grumbled Krank. “Infiltration.”

“A reasonable assumption, General,” Senek intoned. “However, there are other possibilities that need to be considered.”

“We have three ships full of war veterans and scientists,” said Skip Howard. “And one week for them to process all of this data and come up with recommendations. Let’s reconvene in two days to consider their progress and prepare to greet the ferengi as we should shortly thereafter arrive at their border. It will be another 6 days from there to D, Red South 179. We should have a plan no less than 2 days out.”

“Before we recess, I want to make a temporary reassignment,” said Captain Yui Song. “I’d like General Krank to coordinate with Captain Carter aboard the Escort. At least for the next few days to develop defense models for our tactical configuration. Skip, because you’re the biologist and this situation appears to be driven by biology - specifically that unidentified lifeform aboard that trill mining ship - you’re in charge of the scientific investigation. Rhonda, if we get into a tactical situation, it’s going to be you, with support from the General. As ordered by Rear Admiral Ho, as senior captain in situ, I will maintain executive authority. My intent is to use each of you according to your strengths. We reconvene in 2 days.” 

When Captain Yui stood up, everyone else stood up as well: “Dismissed.”

1.7