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

Chapter Text

The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 13: Close to the Edge Part II - Total Mass Retain
Scene 12: Deception

Guessing problems only to deceive the mention…

13.12
Deception

The tide was sweeping out on the western shore of Numinor. The white spires of the central city rose halfway to the sky behind, gleaming in the setting sun. And on the beach, the body of a young woman had just washed up onto the white sands and was now still, no longer rocking in the receding waves.

“Six.”

Master Chief Bill Waller was sitting incongruously nearby at the helm of the U.S.S. Escort, a control panel under his fingers. The index finger of his right hand was flexing, ever so slightly.

“An interesting opening gambit. My beautiful young wife. We never found the murderer. It was a serial killer who struck only once in every city on Cun Ling… 47 victims across 47 cities. All beautiful young brides. The first was in Eden. The last was in Ba Sing Se. Then the murders just… stopped. I suspected this would be the first place you would bring me.” Waller looked up at the giant stag/tiger shrimp thing polluting the crystal clear waters of his home city of Numinor. 

“That is one of your strategies, isn’t it? Going to the moment that us non-coms enlisted in Star Fleet? And this was when I decided to join. To get away from this. Hundreds of light years away. But that was 32 years ago and I don’t live here anymore. Try again…”

Flames were subsiding from what remained of the battle bridge of the U.S.S. Valley Forge, an antique Excelsior class ship that should have been retired decades ago. It was just a training vessel these days, but the weapons and shields had been upgraded, along with nearly every other system and when the borg came, Excelsior was one of the first ships to answer the call.

A control stick from the panel had been blown outward and had punched a hole through the skull of a young vulcan officer.

“Five,” said Master Chief Waller. “Ensign Salok. It was shortly after I was promoted to Master Chief. Chief of the Boat. Valley Forge was to be my retirement assignment. Salok would have become a great officer and I wasn’t going to allow a bunch of rowdy enlistees to bully him. Training boat - green officers, veteran non-comms. It was a sad day, but you already kind of blew this trope with my dead bride. And wasted an opportunity to convince me not to kill you.”

“You?” Stephanie the Space Shrimp was incredulous. “What makes you think you can kill me?”

“Because I’m still sitting at the helm of the U.S.S. Escort with my finger hovering over the trigger for the phase cannons,” Waller replied. “I haven’t targeted them, but at this distance, I hardly need to. I have been ordered to kill you, but I am giving you four more chances to convince me not to. I suggest you not waste those chances trying to control me. Believe me, you can’t.”

“My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts,” said Ensign John Sevork, his fingers framing Bill Waller’s face. 

“You can take you whiskers, or whatever those are, off my face, Stephanie,” said Waller. “We’re already in a mind meld. You’ve melded with the entire crew. It’s all happening simultaneously, but you can only experience it sequentially. But this is a very good move.”

“Four,” said Stephanie. “Okay, I don’t know how, but I can tell you aren’t lying. How? How are you able to have so much control?”

“There are 45 of us. And you’re having to really tightly control what you’re doing or you could kill every one of us,” Waller replied. “Yes, John realized when he melded with the captain that the way you communicate is very similar to a mind meld. And he taught us how to push back and take control. Only a few of us have the strength of will and mental balance to try. John evaluated all of us and selected a few of us to train. How to walk back into the mind meld to see what you see. How to stay grounded. Apparently, I’m a natural.”

“Now that you have learned what you need to know, you have three more chances,” Waller concluded.

“Master Chief Bill Waller, is it?” Captain Skip Howard was about the same height as the U.S.S. Escort’s minuscule chief of the boat, if much slighter of build. Somehow, the captain of the U.S.S. Beagle managed to be intimidating anyway. Green eyeshadow, black fingernail polish. “I am told you are the man I really need to get to know. Please do me the honor of joining me for dinner in my private mess aboard the Beagle.”

“Will my captain be there?” Waller asked.

“She is aware of the invitation. You’re welcome to discuss it with her,” Howard replied.

“You want to know everything about everyone on my boat, don’t you?” asked Waller.

“Ah, I see Rhonda has already prepared you for this meeting…” 

13.12